Archive of Our Own ^beta

Such a lonely day shouldn't exist 

It’s a day that I’ll never miss 

The most loneliest day of my life

—//—

Hizashi Yamada has always loved to sing, since a very young age. And it may have to do with the fact that both his dads were professional singers. 

It hadn’t been a surprise when his quirk manifested and it turned out to be a voice quirk. He had been thrilled and overly excited to say the least. His dads were happy for him and had cried when their ears almost bled when Hizashi had screamed out one night and almost blew up their ear drums. 

Of course, the joy of getting his quirk was overridden by his soulmate bond. When Hizashi turned ten, he created his bond with his soulmate for the first time. 

Hizashi had been ecstatic about hearing his soulmate’s voice in his head for the first time. He waited patiently until the clock marked midnight, and as soon as it did, Hizashi closed his eyes and waited.  

And waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

Hizashi was crying by the time the clock struck past midnight, and his dads had to hold him until he calmed down. 

Then, it happened. 

Hello? I’m not really sure how this is supposed to work, but I think I’m supposed to talk to you. 

If there’s even a you to begin with. 

“Of course there's me.” Hizashi has said out loud to his parents thinking they were the ones who talked to him. “Why wouldn’t there be…” His dads’ gazes told him everything he needed to know. 

Hizashi jumped to his feet, excited. His soulmate had talked to him and he had responded. They had made the bond, and Hizashi couldn’t wait to meet the boy on the other side of the line. 

However, the boy didn’t seem as over excited as Hizashi had been. And while that did put Hizashi off a little, he didn’t let it bring him completely down. 

It was slow at first. With Hizashi trying to get to meet the boy on the other side. He would ask him questions about himself, some were answered, some weren’t. Hizashi didn’t pry too much, they were just kids anyways. And his dads always taught him to be respectful and mindful. 

The boy didn’t speak much at first, only on times where he wanted to tell Hizashi to shut up. And Hizashi would never deny that it hurt, that it stung, a little that his soulmate didn’t seem interested in knowing him. 

He spent years trying to get the boy to talk back to him, to not avail. The boy was just quiet and didn’t seem to want to speak to Hizashi, except when he wanted him to shut up. 

When Hizashi turned thirteen he decided he had enough. If his soulmate didn’t want to talk to him, then Hizashi wouldn’t. He couldn’t even believe he had such a shitty soulmate that he didn’t even want to talk to him. And he tried, he tried to find reasons for his behavior but there just wasn’t anything to justify it. 

So Hizashi quit. 

He didn’t try anymore. And his bond with his soulmate was quiet from that moment on. 

And Hizashi was fine with that. 

—/Two Years Later/— 

Hizashi sat on his designated seat. His head bobbed to some rock music he was listening to on his headphones. A present from his dads once he passed the entrance exam for UA. 

The classroom was mostly empty, and Hizashi had come up only because he had no one to talk to. 

His doodling on his notebook, drawing an electric guitar in purple and white, a speaker connected to them. Hizashi loved music, not only because of his quirk, he genuinely loved it. He considered it a part of him that he couldn't live without even if he tried. 

Music calmed him, it was like the thing that helped him control himself. It created a bubble between him and the outside world, one he liked being in almost all the time when he was out of his house. 

The door of the classroom opened and Hizashi looked up, whether by force of habit or because there was a sudden shift in the air when it happened, Hizashi would never know.

There, standing at the entrance as he stared at a paper, was a beautiful boy with black hair that rested by his cheekbones. He had his uniform half way done, with the first two buttons undone. 

He stared into the paper before he looked up, his eyes meeting Hizashi’s. 

The bubble around Hizashi popped. 

Those eyes stared at him, scanning him from his yellow hair, down to his glasses and even lower to where his torso disappeared under the desk. 

The music on Hizashi’s ear suddenly became muffled. And it was like he had ear plugs that kept him from listening properly. He could see the bubble disintegrating before his eyes as the strange boy walked up to him. 

“You're in my seat.” Hizashi followed the line of his buttons up to his face, eyes stopping at the bare skin of his collarbone. 

Hizashi didn’t even register his words, mainly because of his headphones. But even as the boy repeated what he had just said, Hizashi couldn’t concentrate enough to read his lips. 

A hand rose up from under him, reaching for Hizashi’s headphones. The blonde back up, back hitting the back of the chair where he sat, fingers grew closer. 

“Wait-”

Hizashi felt his headphones being pushed off his head, rolling off and plopping themselves around his neck. 

Their eyes connected again; Hizashi’s green eyes meeting black. He saw the boy blink again, and Hizashi was startled when red eyes stared back at him. 

“What’s wrong with you? Can’t you hear a word I said?” He said, tongue clicking in his mouth. 

Hizashi had always had good hearing, better than he could ever imagine. It became even better after he got his quirk, having been able to hear things with more clarity. He didn’t know why, his parents hadn’t known why either, at least not in a concrete way, but Hizashi had just been able to do that. 

So when he heard the clicking of the boy’s tongue against his mouth in something that Hizashi could clearly tell was displeasure, it surprised him when he felt his heart jump inside his chest. 

The boy’s red eyes stared down at him. 

“Are you still not listening?” 

Hizashi saw his mouth move, saw how pink his lips were. His white teeth, chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

Woah, he's beautiful. 

Hizashi almost jumped out of his chair when he heard the voice inside his head. His gaze instantly went around the room, finding only two other students; one sleeping and the other reading a book. No one was looking at him. 

No one but those red eyes. 

Sorry. 

The voice came again. 

That wasn’t meant for you. 

And Hizashi’s heart plummets to the bottom of his stomach. The boy in front of him backs up a little, removing his hand (something Hizashi just realized) from the back of his chair. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” He coughed, putting his hand back inside his pocket. “I’ll just sit next to you.” The boy walks to the side and sits on the empty chair next to Hizashi. 

Hizashi is still processing that his soulmate had just spoken to him after two years. And to say something that wasn’t even meant for him.

Hizashi pulls his headphones over his head again. He needs to calm down, his throat is starting to itch with the need to scream. 

Hizashi shuffles to his safety playlist, the one he knows will definitely keep him from exploding the glass windows, as he slowly sees the bubble build up around him again. 

He takes a deep breath and lets it out. He lays his head down on the desk, forgetting about the drawing, and closes his eyes. 

He didn't notice the eyes on him, much less the gaze that stared into the back of his head. 

—//— 

About a month later, Hizashi found out that the boy he had his encounter with on the first day was called Shouta Aizawa. His quirk, according to the practice run their homeroom teacher did on the first day, was to erase someone’s quirk by looking at them.

Hizashi didn’t talk to him again after the first day. But the boy still sat next to him, in the seat he came to learn had been his assigned seat, not Aizawa’s. 

Yet, the boy didn’t bother telling him to swap seats the next day. In fact, when Hizashi had arrived at the classroom, Aizawa had already been sitting on the same seat from the day before. So Hizashi didn’t say anything either. 

Shouta didn’t talk much, and he kept a lot to himself. Him and Hizashi never crossed paths, always avoiding each other since the first day of school. 

That was until they were paired up for team work in Hero Course. They were up against one of their teachers, he was able to bend hard objects and mold them to anything he wanted.  

Aizawa and Hizashi didn’t talk about a plan, they didn’t even say a word to each other before the match. And yet… 

It took them five seconds. 

When they found their teacher, it took them five seconds to take him down. 

One for Aizawa to go up into a pole, the second for Hizashi to change the sound waves of his speakers. Three for the teacher to acknowledge them, four for Aizawa to activate his quirk and leave his teacher quirkless and armless. And five for Yamada to use his voice waves to make his teacher stumble and fall to the ground with a disoriented head. 

It was to say the least that everyone was stunned. No one had ever taken such little time to take down their opponent in the previous battles. And no one did in the ones that followed either. 

Aizawa’s behavior shifted a little after that. 

He sort of began to acknowledge Hizashi more. It wasn’t spoken out loud, but Aizawa began sitting with him during lunch hour, outside under a tree. He began to wait for him in the cafeteria before they headed towards the classroom together. And he also began following Hizashi around when it seemed he had nothing else to do.  

Hizashi didn’t mind, it was sort of his first friend, even when it was a little weird the way Aizawa showed his affection. Could Hizashi even call it affection? He didn’t know but it was the only way to explain it. 

When the first break of school came around, Hizashi found a piece of paper on his desk when he came back from lunch. It had a phone number written on the top, scribbled in tilted hand writing. 

Aizawa 

xxx-xxx-xxxx 

Text, don’t be a stranger. 

Hizashi had beamed, his smile growing ten times its fold when he read the content of the paper. His heartbeat was fast inside his chest, and his whole aura radiated happiness. 

When Aizawa crossed the threshold of the classroom door, Hizashi was already on his feet. 

“I won’t be a stranger, I promise.” Was all he said as he wrapped Aizawa in a tight hug. 

Aizawa didn’t say anything back, but Hizashi could feel his hands gripping the front of his shirt tightly. 

Hizashi beamed. 

—/One Year Later/— 

Hizashi shuffled in his bed sheets, his room was dark and it stunk. There was a slow knock on the door, Hizashi grumbled under the bed sheets and the door opened. 

He didn’t move as he heard the door close and lock behind him. He didn’t flinch when the covers were half removed from him, the cold air making him shiver. He didn’t startle when the mattress dipped behind him. 

He felt hands wrap around his torso, pulling him to a warm clothed chest. 

Hizashi didn’t have to turn to know it was Shouta who was hugging him. His scent of lavender and eucalyptus shampoo hitting his nose like routine.  

Hizashi pressed his knees up, against the hands that laid over his stomach. 

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Shouta said behind him, and Hizashi broke. 

It had been an accident, one he caused. And he tried to convince himself it had been for the greater good, that it had been his job, but it didn’t stop it from making his chest swell and his throat to close up. 

Oboro had been their friend after the first break of school. He was just like Hizashi, loud and fun to be around. His laugh filled rooms, his smile outshining even the sun. His blue hair was like the sky, and his eyes were always so eager to learn, looking for ways to receive knowledge through them. 

Oboro loved studying, and hero work, and he had this dream of building his own agency when he grew up and made a name for himself. He loved helping people, he loved being a hero, he loved… 

Hizashi sobbed, hands grabbing the sheets under him. 

He loved them. He told them countless times how no matter that his soulmate had never appeared or that he never created a bond with them, Oboro loved them. 

He. Loved. Them. 

And Hizashi had loved him right back; with the same intensity, with the same passion, and with the same love he had for music. 

And Aizawa… Gods, Aizawa. What didn’t he feel for the young man who had now become his refugee after the accident. 

Shouta and him…  they've grown close over that first break from school. Aizawa had finally let go of his shyness and spoke with Hizashi until late nights or until Hizashi fell asleep on the other side of their FaceTime call. 

Man, how Hizashi had grown to treasure the young man Aizawa had become through the past year.

And when he had chosen Aizawa’s hero name for him, he would never forget the way those eyes had looked at him. He had been surprised when Aizawa went with it and chose it -kept it- as his hero name. Hizashi’s heart had beaten so fast he felt like it would break out of his chest and fall into the desk in front of him. 

Hizashi had grown accustomed to having Aizawa around. After class, during lunch, and even after school was over, Hizashi would invite Aizawa over to his house every day. 

Even with Oboro in their life, there was something about them that somehow fitted. A part of them that not even Oboro was able to push through even if he tried. Not that he ever did. 

Oboro had been the only person in their friend group that had known. If Hizashi thinks about it now, after, he's sure Oboro knew. That was probably why even when he told them countless times how much he loved them, he never seemed to want to interrupt their little bubble.

The bubble Hizashi and Shouta created when they were glued to the hip like gum under a desk. The bubble Hizashi and Shouta created when they worked together as a team and no one could stop them. 

The bubble that not even Oboro Shirakumo dared to burst. 

And many people tried; they tried to pry Aizawa from Hizashi’s hold. To take Shouta’s attention from Hizashi, to have him socialize with someone other than Hizashi. 

And Aizawa had put them in their place. There wasn’t a place where Aizawa would rather be than next to Hizashi. And he proved that point very loudly during that lunch hour in the first year of school. 

And Hizashi loved the attention; he basked in it. Like water filling up a tank, or how the flowers basked in the sun, or how the ocean basked in the moon glow. 

When Oboro passed, it broke them. 

Aizawa couldn’t stand anyone touching him other than Hizashi. He didn’t want to be near anyone that wasn’t Yamada, and they both took some time off school after the accident. 

Shouta moved into Hizashi’s house, he met his dads for the first time, and made a home in the guest room of their house. 

Of course he spent more time inside Hizashi’s room than in the guest room. He had nightmares and would run to Hizashi’s room for comfort to always find him awake already, with nightmares of his own placating his mind. 

At the end, Shouta would just fall asleep with Hizashi. On the same bed. 

Some nights, they were fine. Some nights, one of them had nightmares and the other would wake to comfort the other. Other nights, they would stay up talking about everything and nothing.

On some nights, like this one, Aizawa would hold a crying Hizashi who couldn't fall asleep due to the guilt that ate him alive from the inside. 

“Shhh, Zashi, I’m here.” He whispered into his hair line. 

Hizashi cried louder, cries muffled by the pillow. 

He would never admit this to Aizawa ever, but sometimes… just sometimes, Hizashi wished his soulmate was the one holding him.

And he would cry some more because of that, and Aizawa will believe it was because of Oboro. 

And Hizashi let him believe so. 

—/13 Years Later/— 

Mic remembers the pain his chest felt. As he sat on the chair of his desk, grading some tests for his classes. 

It had come out of nowhere and Hizashi remembered the aching sensation that pressed against his heart. The last time he felt like this had been when his soulmate cut all communication with him. 

The door of the lounge opens, and all the teachers turn to see Ingenium standing under the door frame. 

Mic is standing up before the words are out of the young man’s lips. 

“USJ… Aizawa-sensei… villains…” Was all he could say between his breaths. 

Mic ran. He ran towards the USJ building, not waiting for anyone. 

His heart ached more as he ran. It almost made him stop running, the pain making his entire body ache. 

But he pushed it down, even when it made his skin burn from the inside, even when his mind kept sending him warning signs that someone was hurt, even when he could feel pain form on his head. 

Hizashi ran. Because right now, all he cared about was Aizawa. Not his stupid and selfish soulmate who hadn’t even cared about him when Hizashi had been ten years old. 

He could die for all Hizashi cared. 

He would be content with just Shouta, even if Shouta didn’t think the same. 

His feet faltered for just a second, tripping over the entrance of USJ. 

Keep it together, Mic. He told himself. Sho’ needs you. 

And he was running again. He kicked the door open and ran inside. 

When Hizashi had been younger, one of his dads had a horrible run in with a villain that left him deaf and in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. 

Hizashi hated that his dad was no longer the man that Hizashi remembered. He hated that his papa no longer smiled and sang on bright mornings while he made coffee. Hizashi hated that his dad had to quit his dream of being a hero and become a stay-at-home husband. 

Most of all, Hizashi hated how his dad still looked at him with a bright smile. Like he hadn’t just lost his ability to walk and his ability to hear. Like he hadn’t gone through extensive surgery to at least savor some of his back nerves so he didn’t go completely paralyzed. 

But he knew his dad was just trying to be strong for him. For his papa. So Hizashi directed that hate towards the villain who caused so much pain to his family. 

And Hizashi developed anger issues. Bad and uncontrollable anger issues that resurfaced every now and then when the thought of villains existing outside in the world came into Hizashi’s mind to eat at his brain. 

That’s why the music had been his refuge, that’s why he had found it calming and serene. It kept him from lashing out when he couldn't control himself, it kept him from losing control over his voice. 

And he had gotten through enough therapy to be able to control himself better. 

And yet, the only thing that Hizashi saw when his eyes landed on the bloodied and beaten down Aizawa was red. 

He had never overused his quirk so much before. His throat ached, pleading him to stop, but Hizashi had one goal in mind. One he was going to push his limits to reach, even if tear some vocal cords in the process. 

Because Shouta Aizawa was his lifeline. 

And he would break through anything, burn through some vocal cords if he had to, if it meant Shouta was safely back in his bubble. 

—//—

Hizashi was bound to silence for two months. Recovery Girl insisted that he didn’t speak for what was left of the semester, to keep his vocal cords quiet so they could heal completely. 

Vocal cords were something dangerous to tamper with, just like a spine, and Recovery Girl tried her best to hit every point that would ensure the full recovery of his voice. 

But as he stood in front of Aizawa’s hospital bed, he wanted to do nothing else than talk. To show Shouta that he was there, watching over him and waiting for him. 

Hizashi made himself a home in the hospital couch. He would stay most nights unless he had to patrol, which wasn’t as often anymore. He would come during the day, spend every waking breath next to Aizawa, who still slept soundly on his hospital bed. 

He would just sit next to him; a hand stretched out to reach, but not completely reach out, to Aizawa’s resting hand on the sheets. 

Tonight, something was different. 

Because tonight, Hizashi had a headache. It all started when he left his apartment to come to the hospital. When he came into the room to see Aizawa, he found him shuffling around on the bed. There was a frown on the man’s face, his hands gripping the sheets under him. 

And as Hizashi came closer to check on him, his headache increased, making Hizashi double down in pain. 

Protect him. 

He needs me. 

Keep him safe. 

I don’t want to lose him.  

Please, wake up! You need to find him, tell him you know. Tell him you’ve always known. 

Wake up! 

Hizashi’s forehead is on the ground by the time he realizes he’s kneeling on the floor. 

Protect him, he needs me. Don’t want to lose you. Please. 

Hizashi reaches out a hand to the bed, gripping the mattress. 

Come back. 

The voice inside his head breaks, and Hizashi’s knees wobble until he goes falling down to the floor. The tile is cold against his side. 

When he comes to, he’s on his own hospital bed. He feels his body ache, and when he tries to get up, he feels a tug on his hand. It’s then that he realizes he is not on his own hospital bed. 

Aizawa slept on his side, face shoved on the pillows, bandages covering his entire face. One of his bandaged hands was thrown over his torso. 

Hizashi felt his chest warm up, and he slowly slid back down onto the mattress. Aizawa hummed into the pillow, gripping tighter over Hizashi’s torso. 

And for the first time, Hizashi isn’t wishing this was his soulmate holding him. Instead, he’s wishing that Aizawa was his soulmate. 

Hizashi nuzzles against Aizawa’s bed hair, and hums when the man snuggles closer to him. 

Yeah, Hizashi wishes Aizawa was his soulmate. If it meant he could hold the man like this forever. 

—/Months Later/—

Something has changed, and Hizashi knows it has. 

And he doesn’t see it in Aizawa, or in the way the man has become more lenient, or stricter around him. He doesn’t see it in the way Aizawa avoids his gaze when sitting to eat lunch in the empty lounge, or in the way he no longer calls him “Mic” but instead saying his entire hero name. 

He sees it when Shinso enters their lives. 

And it was subtle too, just one simple thought. One thought that turned into many thoughts that left Hizashi paralyzed from his hip down. 

It happened at training. 

Hizashi visited the beta grounds where he knew Shouta was training with Shinso. They recently got the capturing weapon that they requested for Shinso and Aizawa wanted the boy to try it. 

He had two bentos in his hand. If you would have told Hizashi a year ago that he and Aizawa would have indirectly adopted a stray, like Aizawa liked calling the purple-haired boy, he would have not believed you. 

And yet, here he was, bringing both him and the boy a bento to eat. He knew that if you let those two run on their own, they would never eat. They were so much alike, in fact, they were so much alike that Hizashi was at some point questioning if Shouta had actually had Shinso with a woman and just didn’t tell him about it. 

But he knew that couldn’t be possible. Because Aizawa told him that his soulmate was dead, and that Shouta never got to meet him before he passed. 

Hizashi entered the beta grounds and instantly heard screams. He ran in, heat spiking up in his blood due to past trauma of the last time he heard Aizawa screamed like that. 

When they came into view, he halted. Shinso was dangling from the ceiling, bound by Aizawa’s capturing weapon. Or was it his own? Hizashi couldn’t tell. 

Aizawa was walking around him, studying him, in a way Hizashi could only guess was Aizawa’s way of thinking. He was probably waiting for Shinso to admit what he did wrong that got him into that position, and Shinso only huffed, looking away with a scowl. 

Hizashi walked closer, bentos in hand. He took pity on poor Shinso and decided to intervene before they went hours like this and Shinso’s blood rushed to his head. 

When he was about to open his mouth to make himself known, a voice popped inside his head. 

This kid, I swear. He’ll be the end of me one day. 

Hizashi stops. 

If only Zashi was here, he would probably know what to do. 

Hizashi’s breath gets stuck on his throat. His eyes dug holes to the back of Aizawa’s head. 

Man, I really need to get my shit together with Zashi. I can’t keep avoiding him like this. 

The bentos dropped to the ground, one of them opening with the force of the fall. 

Aizawa turns, eyes wide as they fall on Yamada. 

“M-Mic.” He stutters. “W-What are you doing here?” Shinso looks up at him from where he’s tied up. 

Hizashi doesn’t say anything, his eyes on Aizawa. It’s then that he realizes what this means. 

He sees it in the way that Aizawa’s eyes squint at him, he sees it in the way his hands are opening and closing over empty air. He sees the shift on Aizawa’s shoulders when they swag, the shift from one leg to the other. 

Hizashi is opening something he swore he was never going to open again. 

Sho’? He sends through his side of the soulmate bond. 

Aizawa winces. 

And that’s all Hizashi needs as an answer. 

All those lonely years come rushing back to Hizashi. The unwanted memories of his soulmate, the emptiness his chest felt every time he would talk but received no response back. Years of heartbreak, of sadness, of many moments where Hizashi felt like he wasn’t enough. 

Enough to have his soulmate want him. 

And here he was, standing in front of the man who he had become to treasure, to cherish, to protect. To love. 

And Hizashi wanted to punch him on the face for all that pain he caused him all those years ago. To make him pay for the unnecessary suffering and emptiness he made Hizashi feel every night. The feeling of not being wanted and the feeling of not being enough for the person who’s supposed to be made just for him. Hizashi wanted to make him understand how it felt, for him, by punching every feeling into his face. 

Yet, when he looked up at Aizawa’s face, all the anger was gone in an instant. 

Because even when Aizawa had made him suffer all those years ago, Hizashi was already forgiving him before he even got to voice his anger out. In fact, he was already apologizing in his mind for all those years he wouldn’t stop talking into Aizawa’s head when they were younger. 

Even when it wasn’t his fault. 

“M-Mic I can explain.” Aizawa stepped closer, hands coming to reach for Hizashi but deciding otherwise when they dropped down to his side. “Let me explain, please.” 

Hizashi is moving. He moves past Aizawa and walks towards where Shinso’s is fighting to keep his eyes open. 

Aizawa closes his mouth and his words die on his tongue when he sees the boy being lowered down to the ground. 

“Shinso, I’m sorry.” He says, kneeling across from Mic. The blonde is checking his vitals, making sure that Shinso hadn’t fainted. 

Aizawa’s eyes never leave Hizashi’s, even as the blonde’s eyes stay on Shinso. 

Aizawa wants to talk. He needs to say something but when he opens his mouth again, nothing comes out. 

Hizashi doesn’t look up at him until he has made sure that Shinso was fine. 

“Zashi, I-” He tried again but Hizashi pressed a hand over his lips. 

“Take Hitoshi to Recovery Girl.” He says. “The keys to the apartment are on my leather jacket in the office.” He says. Aizawa tries to speak again, but Mic presses harder on his mouth. “Keep them, I won’t be coming home tonight.” 

He stands up before he can say anything. Aizawa thinks he calls out to him, he feels his mouth move, but there’s only silence. 

Mic is walking away from him, for the first time ever, and Aizawa can’t help but sob as his hands grab his pants. 

Shinso stays quiet, seeing his two father figures walk away from each other. And he doesn’t know what to do, only that he needs Aizawa to be okay right now. 

Aizawa feels arms wrapped around his neck, the scarf pressed against his face as Shinso knelt on the floor in front of him. 

And Aizawa wants to push him away, he wants to run and hide inside his bean bag and stay inside his room. He wants… he needs to keep Shinso away from him. He doesn’t want the boy to get hurt because of him, not the same way he also got hurt. 

But Aizawa doesn’t have the strength to push back. Not when Shinso is holding onto him, his own tears wetting Aizawa’s shirt. 

Aizawa goes numb in his arms. 

—/A Month Later/—

Hizashi has been sleeping on a very uncomfortable couch. Toshinori had offered him the second guest room but Hizashi already felt like he was asking for too much. 

Although he didn’t ask, Toshinori had offered. 

And Hizashi could never say no to that bright smile. 

He was aware that Toshinori had two adopted sons, and he tried his best to seem non-existent in the small house that was Toshinori Yagi’s home. But Toshinori’s kids were all about comforting and making everyone happy and bubbly. 

So he tried his best to smile and be around them. Midoriya, he already knew because of UA, the boy was a ray of sunshine around his friends. And he tried to always keep his teacher happy with random ranting about his favorite superheroes. Once he even told Mic all the things he had written down about him in one of his journals. Mic had been surprised to see how much attention Midoriya actually put into this analysis. 

Then there was Tenko, who wasn’t much of a social butterfly with the exception of when Midoriya was around. Hizashi didn’t talk much with Tenko but there would be times where they would find each other in the kitchen in the middle of the night. 

They would stay up and just sit on the couch together, just being in each other's presence. 

Hizashi took a break from school, and All Might took over his class. He hasn’t heard from Aizawa since that day in the beta grounds. All he has heard, from Midnight, is that Aizawa was still teaching his class. He hadn’t taken a leave like Mic had, still taking his time to train and teach his students. 

However, he heard from Midnight that he was staying with her at her apartment. It surprised Hizashi since he had left the apartment keys to Aizawa. And he didn’t ask Midnight why, he didn’t want to know. 

He didn’t want to see Aizawa, not until he was ready. And maybe he would never be ready, and Hizashi was okay with that. 

Or so he thought. 

It wasn’t until one night he received a call. From Shinso. 

He answered, of course he did. His adopted son was calling him, something he rarely did, of course he was going to answer. 

What he didn’t expect was for Shinso to tell him those words. 

“He’s going to jump, Mic.” Shinso’s voice was shaky, hoarse and broken. “I-I didn’t know who else to call, Mic.” He mumbles into the phone. “He doesn’t have his capturing weapon with him, I-I think he…” Shinso sobs. “Papa, I’m so afraid right now.”  

And Hizashi is on his feet before he even has a chance to think about it twice. 

He told Tenko that he was heading out, to let Toshinori know when he came back from patrol. Midoriya was out on a date, and he wasn’t going to come back until later in the night. 

He grabbed his leather jacket on the way out. He grabbed his keys and left the apartment. 

Wait for me, Sho’. 

And he didn’t realize, not with his emotions all over the place, that he had pushed it through his bond with Aizawa. 

Zashi. 

It’s all Mic needed to press the gas pedal harder. 

—//—

Aizawa always knew he liked boys, from a very young age. And he wasn’t surprised when the night he turned ten, a boy’s voice filled his head with excitement. 

Aizawa had been happy too, that the universe had given him what he wanted. A boy with a joyful laugh and beautiful personality, even through their bond. 

However, his parents didn’t think so. And they made sure to remind him how messed up he was. How defective and broken he was for wanting to be with a boy, for even being happy that his soulmate was a man. 

And Aizawa knew, after the first hit, that he didn’t want his soulmate to go through the same pain he was going through. He didn’t want him to see how broken and defective he was. He didn’t want his soulmate to see how messed up he was to the point that even his parents thought he was such a waste of time. 

Aizawa broke off any contact with his soulmate after the third beating. He laid on his bed, ribs and face burning with new cuts. Muscles twisting in pain with new bruises and eyes so swollen that he couldn’t see. 

His quirk didn’t help much; mainly because even when he erased his dad’s quirk, he still had his fists. 

And besides, that was just another reason why he was so broken. His quirk, only seen to be a type of quirk a villain could have, made things worse for him. Aizawa just didn’t have any luck like that. 

When he met Hizashi Yamada for the first time, he knew. He knew because Hizashi had looked at him with eyes that radiated so much and so little at the same time, it gave some sort of peace to Aizawa. Even when Aizawa had been mad about him being on his assigned seat, he couldn't help the jump his heart made when Hizashi looked up at him with those green eyes. 

And then Aizawa thought he was beautiful, and Hizashi reacted to his thoughts. And Aizawa was doomed.  

After Oboro died, Aizawa didn’t know what to do with himself. He couldn’t stand anybody touching him, the thought of dirtying his friends with his blood tainted hands disgusted him to the point he would throw up at night thinking about Oboro’s blood on his hands. 

But then Hizashi came to his rescue. And told him how perfect he was, even with bloody hands. Bloody hands that he shared with Hizashi because they both had been there when Oboro died. And Aizawa wanted to kiss him. 

That was the first night they slept on the same bed; Hizashi curled up against Aizawa as the man held him close to his chest. To his heart. 

Aizawa knew he shouldn’t; that he shouldn’t let Mic in so close to him. He knew that sooner or later the truth would come out and Hizashi would probably hate him if he found out the truth. 

But it was too late, because Aizawa already loved him and he couldn’t let go of him, even if he tried.  

After USJ happened, Aizawa had his first nightmare after Oboro's death. He tossed and turned as he saw thousands of scenarios where he lost Hizashi over and over again. 

Just like he had lost Oboro that day.

And Aizawa screamed for help, screaming at himself to do something. He needed to keep Hizashi safe, to protect him, to watch over him and make sure he was alive. 

And it wasn’t until a warm body was placed next to him that Aizawa had finally come down and settled into the hospital’s bed sheets.  

When Shinso came into their lives, Aizawa thought that things couldn’t be much better. He and Hizashi had unconsciously, and unofficially, adopted a little stray kid who latched onto him like a leech.  

But Aizawa liked it.

He finally felt like some part of him had finally found peace among Hizashi’s loud voice and beautiful eyes and Shinso’s huffs and scowls during training. A home in Hizashi’s arms at night and in Shinso’s awkward side hugs he would give him sometimes. A place to call his own in Hizashi’s reassurance and sweet words and in taking care of Shinso’s like they hadn’t taken care of him. 

A safe home to call his own in Hizashi and Shinso. 

But everything fell apart that day, when Aizawa let his mind slip up. When he got so caught up in teaching Shinso a lesson that he let his thoughts slip up into that space in his mind that he didn’t venture since he was a pre-teen. 

And everything was out. Everything. 

And he felt like the safe place he had built for himself among Hizashi and Shinso was crumbling down before him. 

He saw it in the way that Hizashi had looked at him when he tried to reach out. He saw it in the way that Shinso had almost fainted because he wasn’t paying attention. He saw it in the way that Mic had completely ignored him to go to their child and help him. 

“The keys to the apartment are on my leather jacket in the office.” 

A pause, their eyes met. 

“Keep them, I won’t be coming home tonight.” 

He sees how his world crumbled in the way Hizashi sounded cold and distant. 

He doesn’t say anything as he sees Hizashi walk away from him. He swears he tries, that he does open his mouth and spills his guts about the past 20+ years of his life, however nothing but an empty gasp is what comes out from in between his lips. 

He doesn’t know when he starts crying, but his eyes burn. His vision goes blurry, and he feels his chest tightened around his ribs and heart. 

He doesn’t know when Shinso has stood up from the ground. He doesn’t register when the boy’s skinny arms wrap around his shoulder or when the scarf around his neck hits his face. 

It isn’t until he feels wet tears wet his hair and shirt. When he feels the body pressed against his own body start to shake. 

Aizawa falls numb in his arms. 

A week later he moved into Nerumi’s apartment. The woman offered him to stay over when she noticed that Aizawa had been sleeping in his classroom every night after that day. 

He doesn’t give her details, but he's sure she knows. 

She knows how Aizawa can’t even go inside that stupid apartment without thinking about Mic. Without smelling his scent all over the house, seeing his surround system set or his special room for his podcasts. 

Aizawa can’t even begin to think about how the room looks. The room where they shared so many nights, where they would hug each other and comfort each other. 

Aizawa can’t even get close to the door of the apartment without breaking down. And Nemuri knew that.

She lived alone, and Aizawa crashed in her guest room. She made sure he had everything he needed, made sure he was comfortable and felt safe. But Aizawa still couldn’t sleep. 

And he had nowhere, no one, to run to when he began to have nightmares. When he began to stay up at night without being able to sleep, when the clothes made him feel hot and stuck to his skin, when his thoughts didn’t let him sleep in peace. 

It was around the second week when everything became worse. 

Aizawa tried to hide his pain behind his usual neutral face, but Nemuri was starting to notice. His students had started to notice; Midoriya asked him how he was. Bakugo and his friends had stopped being loud in the mornings and they even started to behave when he was teaching them.  

But he could tell that they knew. 

And it was on a hot night like many before, when Aizawa finally broke. It was the end of the month and Aizawa had finally gotten some sleep thanks to the meds that Nemuri got for him. 

He rolls onto his side, face squished against the pillow. 

“A boy?!” His mom shouted. “How is this even possible!” 

“Tell us you're lying, Shouta.” His dad shook his shoulders. “You're just teasing us, right?” His dad chuckles. “There’s no way…” 

“His name is Hizashi.” Aizawa says. And he realizes it’s the wrong thing to say because suddenly there’s screams over him.  

—

“You're a disgrace.” His mom says as she puts a plate in front of him. “No person will ever want you.” She says. 

Aizawa tries to tone her out. 

“You are disgusting, all you do is sleep and even your quirk says nothing about you.” His mom is washing the dishes. “I can’t believe I had a son like you.” 

Aizawa closes his eyes, he knows it’s coming. 

“And then you go and get a man for a soulmate.” He hears her grab the metal spatula from the sink. “How more broken can you be?” 

It lands on his cheek. And it stings. But he bears it because he’s tough and he has gone through enough shit to withstand this. 

Then comes the slap. And the hair pulling. He feels the scramble eggs smush against his face and go inside his eyes. 

“No one will ever love you.” His mom says to his ear as she pushes his face into the plate. “You don’t deserve it.” Aizawa grips his pants tightly. “Broken people don’t deserve to be loved.” She lets him go after that and leaves for work. 

That night, he receives a beating from his dad on his mom’s orders for being a total faggot and a defective child. 

— 

Aizawa finds himself on his bathroom floor. His knees are pressed against his chest as he cries. He doesn’t know how long he’s been there, nor he knows the last time he has gone out of his room. 

“You deserve to die.” 

Aizawa hiccups, hand dropping next to him on the cold tiled floor. His fingers reached for his mom’s eyebrow razor that he had grabbed before he sat down. 

What if he did deserve to die? Would anyone miss him? 

Obviously not, no one loved him. No one cared for him enough to take him out of this hell hole. No one, not even Aizawa’s soulmate who he had long lost contact with. 

Aizawa hiccups. 

Maybe he should die, it would definitely make the world better. 

— 

Aizawa wakes up sweaty. His clothes are sticking to his body and there’s dry tears on his cheeks. 

“You deserve to die.” 

Did he? 

Aizawa stands from the bed, forgoes his sleepers and walks out of the bedroom. His back at the Alliance dorms, staying for the night because Shinso asked him to. 

“You deserve to die.” 

Aizawa makes a beeline to the stairs that would lead him to the roof. 

When his feet hit the cold concrete, Aizawa knows what he must do. His eyes land on the edge of the roof, where there’s a small step before a 25ft drop that would surely take anyone to their death. 

“You deserve to die.” 

Maybe it’s time he does what his mom has been trying to do since he turned ten. 

He steps up into the step, toes curling at the cold concrete. The strong breeze makes his skin shiver and his hair moves to obscure his eyesight. 

“No one will ever love you.” 

She was right; Hizashi hated him, Shinso couldn’t even look at him without crying, and his students only pitied him. 

Aizawa pulls his arms to his chest, feeling the shivers run down his spine. 

“No one will ever come to your rescue.” 

“Because someone like you doesn’t deserve to be saved.” 

“Someone like you doesn’t deserve to be loved.” 

Aizawa inhales, the cold making his body shiver from the inside out. 

When he opens his eyes, he comes in contact with purple eyes. Shinso is looking up at him with trembling hands and scared eyes. There’s a phone on his ear, his lips move, and Aizawa could only wonder who he's talking to. 

His wonder is answered by a simple voice inside his head. 

Wait for me, Sho’. 

Aizawa’s body stills, body shivering and shaking with the cold. His knees buckle, and he drops on the edge of the roof, hands holding himself up as his entire core begins to shake. 

Zashi. 

He sobs, hands gripping his shirt tightly. 

I don’t want to hurt you. 

You could never hurt me. 

Aizawa sobs louder, it echoed in the emptiness of the night. 

But I could. 

He pauses, taking a deep breath. Hizashi is quiet on his side, waiting. 

He always waited for Aizawa. 

But I did. 

I want to believe you had your reasons. 

What if I don’t? 

Aizawa is tired, his eyelids are heavy and he only wants to let go. 

There’s a scream, one that has his eyes opening. He looks down to see Shinso kneeling on the floor, crying, with the phone still pressed against his ear. 

He’s scared, Shouta. 

There’s that voice again. 

Don’t do this to him. 

Aizawa’s knees buckle; he wants to let go so bad. It’ll be good, he could rest. 

He stands. 

Sho’, no! 

I’m almost there. 

You won’t make it in time. 

Yes, I will. 

Aizawa sticks one leg out.

There’s another scream from the ground. 

Goodbye, Zashi. 

Aizawa lets go. 

“Shouta!” There’s a scream behind him, but Aizawa can’t turn to see. Without his capturing weapon he can’t maneuver himself on air. 

A body crashes against his own. Strong arms wrap around his body, but Aizawa can only feel the air hitting his face. He's almost there, he can feel it, taste it on the back of his throat. 

Freedom. 

Everything stops; Aizawa is waiting for the hit. His waiting for the pain to be gone so he could finally be free of his tormented past. 

But nothing comes. 

Instead, Aizawa feels himself take a deep breath. He shoots his eyes open, seeing his face still a few feet away from the ground. He can see Shinso covering his mouth, phone still on his ear. 

He forces himself to turn around, the hands around his body pressuring his lungs. He sees blonde hair obscuring his line of sight. 

“Shouta.” There’s a gasp behind him. “Please.” Aizawa feels his body go numb. “Don’t you dare leave me.” 

Aizawa feels their weight pull down on whatever it is that is keeping them up. 

“Aizawa…” Hizashi’s hands are trembling against his ribs. “Aizawa.” 

“Let go.” His voice sounds hoarse.

“No.” 

“Let go!” He wiggles against the arms holding him. 

“No!” Hizashi screams. “Stop moving, damn it.” 

“No, this is what I deserve!” 

“No, you don’t.” Hizashi pulls him up against his chest. “Whatever the hell it’s going through your stupid head, it’s not true.” 

“Hizashi, let me go.” 

“Like hell I will!” There’s a moment of silence, Aizawa keeps fighting against Hizashi’s hold. “I love you, Shouta.” 

“Yamada, it’s not time for your sappy feelings.” Aizawa says. “I made my decision.” 

“Then I’ll go with you.” That makes Aizawa stop moving. “If you go, I want to go with you.” 

“No, you can’t.” 

“Why? It’s my decision.” The capturing weapon is still stretching over them and Hizashi can feel it starting to slip under his fingers. He was not made for this, he has no idea how to use a capturing weapon. “Why can’t I?” 

“Because I…” Aizawa feels a lump on his throat. 

“Why is it different from your decision of jumping off the damn-”

“Becuase I can’t lose you again!” 

There, it was finally out. The entire world knew that Shouta Aizawa, the defective child, was in love with a man. Not just any other man, his best friend. His soulmate. 

Hizashi’s hands give up for just a second before gripping tighter again.

“And I love you too much to see you give up your life for someone who doesn’t deserve it.” Aizawa feels his heart ache. His head feels dizzy and he can feel the blood rushing to his brain. “I-I don't deserve you, Zashi.” 

Time seemed to stop. Hizashi could feel Aizawa’s heartbeat where his hand rested right under his pec. And Aizawa could feel Hizashi’s heartbeat on his shoulder blades.

Momentarily, there was some movement. Aizawa sees the ground become closer as they are slowly descending. 

Once his knees hit the grass, Aizawa wants to run. However, his ass hits the ground when a scarf he’s overly familiar with wraps around him and pulls back. 

“We’re going to talk.” Hizashi says behind him. “Right here, right now.” 

Aizawa doesn’t move from his position, not when Hizashi walks to stand in front of him. Not when his shoulders are pushed back and weight is dropped over his lap. 

“Whoever made you believe you deserve to die needs their asses beaten for it.” Hizashi is talking, Aizawa can only feel the vibrations of his body where his shoulders meet Hizashi’s hands. “They don’t know shit. And I’m sure as hell that they don’t know you.” 

Aizawa feels a lump on his throat again. 

“You’re not fucking broken, Aizawa.” Hizashi says, his own eyes starting to prickle with tears. “You're not defective or unwanted or…” Hizashi passes a hand over his blonde locks. “And so what if there’s shitty people out there who believe that? So what?” 

Aizawa feels the tears start to come down his face. 

“Fuck them, Shouta.” Hizashi says, anger slipping through his tone for a second. “When has the great Eraserhead cared for anything anyone says?” Aizawa doesn’t answer. “For fucks sake, Shouta, I want you.” Hizashi is trembling now. “I. Want. You.” With every punctuated word, Hizashi hits Aizawa in the chest. 

Aizawa decides to look up then. 

And the image that greets him makes his heart ache. Hizashi has tears rolling down his beautiful green eyes, his hair is up in the messy bun he usually did every time he woke up, his hands are gripping Shouta’s shirt in two different places. 

“Am I not enough?” Hizashi sobs. “Am I not enough for you to stay?” Hizashi hits his chest again, gripping the shirt with his fingers. “Am I not enough for you, Shouta?!” 

Aizawa wants to tell him he is, that he has always been enough. Aizawa just hadn’t know how to deal with it. He had been scared of the memories of his parents beating him until he couldn’t walk or stand for days. He was scared of being hit again, of being hurt, of being laughed at for liking someone of the same gender. 

“Am I not enough, Sho’?” Hizashi looks down at him, new tears rolling down his cheeks. 

Aizawa wiggles his hands out of the scarf. Hizashi holds it tightly to keep him from leaving. Aizawa stills. 

“Zashi…” He looks up. “I…” There weren’t enough words that could ever be able to explain to Hizashi Yamada how much Shouta Aizawa loved him. 

So Aizawa did the next best thing. 

He leans in, crowds Hizashi’s space and closes his eyes. 

The moonlight is shining bright when their lips meet. And it’s a soft touch, lips to lips, but it’s enough for Hizashi. 

The hand on Aizawa’s shoulder goes to black hair instead and grips. The hand on the shirt pulls closer, pulling Aizawa to a more straight sitting position. Hizashi is taking what Aizawa has just given him, and eating it out like a starved man. 

He doesn’t know how long he stayed there, lips pressed against Aizawa’s. But when he feels the need to breathe again, he lets go. 

Before Aizawa can say anything, Yamada is pressing his forehead against his own. 

“Sho’, I don’t hate you for hiding the truth.” He says. “In fact, I don’t think I could ever hate you over anything.” 

Aizawa wants to protest, wants to tell him that he should probably scream at him, hit him, tell him to fuck off and leave, but nothing comes out of his mouth. 

“But I do wish you would have told me about this.” Hizashi’s fingers find Aizawa’s forearm. The man’s body goes stiff when he feels cold fingertips graze over healed scarring on the dip of his elbow. 

Aizawa opens his eyes and it’s met with Yamada’s green ones looking down at him. 

“I would have helped.” He mumbles. “Fuck, Sho’, I would give up anything to have been there for you when you most needed me.”  

“Zashi…” 

“Sho’…” Hizashi scratches the bag of Aizawa’s head. “Tell me if it ever meant something.” The hand on his chest slowly lets go of his shirt. “Did we mean something? Were we something to begin with? Was there even a we?” 

Aizawa wants to tell him yes, but he can’t find the words. 

“Tell me, Sho’, because if there wasn’t…” Hizashi is assaulted with new tears. “If there wasn’t…” 

“I love you, Yamada.” It’s so low that Yamada barely hears it. Like a gush of wind; here one second, gone the next. “Please…” Aizawa’s voice comes out broken. “Help me.” He sobs, voice breaking into sobs. 

Hizashi wraps his arms around him, flushing his face against his chest. 

“I’m here, Shouta.” Hizashi mumbles into his hairline. “I got you.” 

Aizawa wails, hands finally coming loose from the capturing weapon and quickly grabbing onto Hizashi. 

“Let it out, I’m here.” 

And Aizawa does. 

—//— 

When Aizawa wakes up again, it’s on his own bed with a warm body pressed against his side. He thinks it’s Hizashi but when he pats the hair, he feels it rougher and not as smooth as Hizashi’s hair. 

Also, the groan that the body lets out, it’s not at all the same noise Hizashi makes. 

Aizawa opens his eyes to see purple hair splayed out on his chest. A small hand gripped his shirt tightly, with the obvious intent of not letting go. His hands stood in the air, not really knowing if he should reach out to touch the boy or remove him from his chest. 

The door opens though, and Aizawa just drops his hands to his side. Mic comes in, and he’s carrying a tray with a cup of water. 

“You're up.” He says, not as a question but as a statement. Like he knew Aizawa was awake. “I brought you a cup of water.” He sets the tray down by Aizawa’s bedside table. When Aizawa looks at it, he sees a familiar bottle of pills. 

“Can I sit?” Aizawa moves his hand out of the way and removes the comforter. Mic sits down at the edge of the bed. 

Shinso groans at the movement. 

They stay quiet for a moment; Hizashi trying to find the words, Aizawa just listening to Shinso’s breathing. 

“He hasn’t left your side since you passed out on the yard.” Hizashi says when he sees Aizawa’s gaze over Shinso. “You scared him pretty bad, Sho’.” 

“I didn’t mean-”

“You scared me pretty bad.” Hizashi says. Aizawa’s eyes go to him, seeing how unlike himself Mic looked. The joyful and loud boy that Aizawa once knew no longer sat next to him on that bed. 

“I’m sorry, Hizashi, I-”

“I totally get him.” Hizashi says, putting a hand over Shinso’s hair, eyes still avoiding Aizawa. “I wouldn’t let you go if I thought you were leaving.” 

“I wasn’t-” Aizawa stops himself. He was going to leave. Not in a way that a person would walk out of someone’s life but in a totally different way that made Aizawa’s heart ache at the thought. “I’m sorry.” He says. 

“Recovery Girl told me.” Hizashi said, ignoring Aizawa’s apology. Or not ignoring but not acknowledging. “About your antidepressant pills.”

Ah, so that’s what those were. 

“How long have you been diagnosed with depression?” 

“Since Oboro died.” Aizawa answered, not even doubting or stuttering. He was tired of hiding things from Mic. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t want to burden you with it.” Aizawa said, and Hizashi knew he was being honest by the way he avoided eye contact even though Mic wasn’t even looking at him. 

Hizashi takes in those words, processes them and moves on to the next subject. 

“When did you know?” Aizawa doesn’t need to look at him to know what he's talking about.

“Since the day we met.” He answers. “I saw your reaction to my thought of you being beautiful.” 

“That couldn’t have been the only thing.” 

“I also felt peace when I touched you that day, I felt complete and whole when your eyes looked into mine, I felt free.” Aizawa only hears him move, and when he looks up to meet his eyes, sees that Hizashi is wiping tears off his face. “I… I’m sorry that I lied to you, Mic.” Aizawa tries to get up but Shinso’s weight keeps him from being able to reach out towards Hizashi. 

Hizashi thinks that’s best for now. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you with my own burdens.” Aizawa says. “I just… I’ve carried a lot of my past with me and-”

“I would have carried it with you.” Aizawa looks up at the words. “Whatever it was, I would have shared the weight with you.” Aizawa’s eyes watered, his hand finally coming down to Shinso’s back and pulling the boy close. 

Hizashi doesn’t miss the action. 

“When I was ten, I made a bond with my soulmate.” Aizawa began talking. “My parents were excited and I couldn’t be more happy.” The corner of his lips tilt up, slightly. “When I heard your voice for the first time, I felt whole. I felt like the last piece of my puzzle was complete, I already liked you, and I hadn’t even seen you in person.” 

Hizashi shuffles on the bed, shifting his weight to his other side. 

Aizawa continues. 

“I always knew I liked boys.” Aizawa confessed. “And when I got a soulmate that was a boy, I was happy. Happy that fate had given me someone like you.” Aizawa’s hand starts to draw small circles around Shinso’s back. “When I told my parents, they didn’t take it as I expected them to.” 

Hizashi’s head perks up at that. 

“They abused me for being gay.” Aizawa continues, ignoring the small tightness of his chest. “My dad would beat me up at night, my mom would hit me every chance she got, they both reminded me how broken and defective I was every day.” 

Aizawa felt the pain on his chest increase. And it was in the way that Hizashi bent over, hand on his chest gripping his shirt tightly, that he realized that this feeling wasn’t his. It was Hizashi’s. Their bond, their severed and fragmented bond, that neither of them ever dared open since the day they closed off to each other. 

Aizawa wanted to cry. Oh, how much he lost. 

“When Oboro died, and you asked me to stay over, I was happy.” Aizawa said, voice welling up with hurt. “A lot of things happened in that house, things that I’m not proud of, but they made me the man that I am today.” 

Aizawa feels Hizashi’s bond weakened, and he feels the way it turns cold and dry, making his body shiver. 

“I’m proud of my scars today, because of you, Zashi.” The blonde looks up. “I… I used to believe that I didn’t deserve anything life had given me, and I still don’t, but…” Aizawa’s hand goes up to Shinso’s hair. “You showed me how to cherish the things I had.” 

Hizashi feels his eyes water. 

“Even after Oboro died, you still kept a smile on your face, pushing through all the pain and sorrow that we had.” Aizawa looks up at Hizashi. He’s surprised that the blonde is looking back at him. “You are so strong Hizashi, unlike me, and that’s why I thought I didn’t deserve you.” 

“You don’t get to choose that for me.” 

“I know, I know, and I…” Aizawa gets up again, this time with the intent of getting closer. He settles Shinso down on the mattress and crosses his legs under him. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for lying, for keeping our soul bond a secret and for not acknowledging your feelings.” 

Hizashi wants to take his eyes away, but Aizawa is looking at him so brokenly that Hizashi can feel his own heart breaking at the sight. 

“I was a coward and I ran.” Aizawa continued. “I ran because I was scared.” Aizawa’s voice trembles. “I ran because I was afraid that if you found out that I had lied about us being soulmates, you would hate me.  And I don’t think I would have ever been able to continue if you hated me, Hizashi. I just…” 

Hizashi looks down and takes a breath. When he looks up and meets Aizawa’s eyes, Aizawa can feel through their intertwined bond that Hizashi feels nothing but affection. No hate. 

Aizawa starts to cry. 

“You feel it?” Aizawa pinches his nose, trying to stop the sobs, but nods. “I could never hate you, Shouta.” Aizawa gulps, hiccuping into the palm of his hand. His vision is blurry with tears, his cheeks are red, and he can’t stop slobbering all over his hand. “I love you, Shouta.” Hizashi scoots closer and wraps Aizawa into a hug. “And there’s nothing in this world that could ever make me not love you.” 

Aizawa breaks, finally letting go of everything that had once tormented him. His past, his parents, his childhood. The stupid cage that his parents had kept him in, afraid of accepting his soulmate because of them, the feelings of brokenness, of not being wanted, of being the defective child. Aizawa lets it all go, as he feels Hizashi's arms wrapped around his body in a tight hold.

And Hizashi can feel all of it, for the first time. Inside their bond; in the way Aizawa’s heart clenches when he grips his shirt, in the way his lungs gasp for air when Aizawa cries into his shirt, in the way Aizawa’s entire core shakes inside Hizashi every time a new wave of tears invades his eyes. 

And for the first time, Hizashi envelops himself in the feeling. Of feeling Aizawa as a whole, and not just as a ten-year-old boy who didn’t want to talk to his soulmate. 

Of feeling him as Shouta Aizawa; the man Hizashi Yamada fell in love with without knowing he was his soulmate. As broken and hurt as he was, Hizashi didn’t care, he loved him. 

And he would make sure to heal every part of his soulmate’s broken pieces.  

Hizashi doesn’t know how long he sat there, holding Aizawa until he let it all out, but eventually Aizawa fell asleep from exhaustion on his shoulder and Hizashi lowered him to the bed next to Shinso.

Hizashi placed a kiss on his temple, covering the both of them with the comforter before he exited the room to make a call. 

Later, when he came back, he made sure to tug himself behind Shinso. To extend an arm towards Aizawa and pull him into a hug, leaving the sleeping Shinso in between them. 

And Hizashi knew, in the way that his bond felt warm and content, that Aizawa was (for the first time) happy with himself. And with him. 

His eyes found Aizawa’s, who slept with a smile on his face. 

If you go, Shouta, I will go with you. 

And if you die, Shouta, I will die with you. 

Because there’s nowhere else I would rather be if it isn’t by your side. 

And that’s a promise. 

One that Hizashi will make sure to keep, for the rest of their lives.

And if you go, I wanna go with you

And if you die, I wanna die with you

Take your hand and walk away