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Hitoshi freezes the moment he steps into the living-room because both Yamada and Aizawa immediately look at him, then share a gaze between themselves and when Aizawa pats the space next to him, Hitoshi knows that he fucked up.
Well, it was a good run, but of course he wouldn't make it forever, not even with patient and nice people like them.
Hitoshi always manages to fuck up, after all.
"Sit, kiddo," Yamada says when Hitoshi hovers unsurely in the room, nervously tugging his sleeves down, only stopping when Aizawa tracks the motion with a sharp eye and a wrinkle on his forehead.
"I'm sorry," Hitoshi whispers before he even sits down, and again, Aizawa and Yamada share a look that leaves Hitoshi quivering inside.
"There is nothing to be sorry for, you didn't do anything wrong," Aizawa says, tries for reassuring, clearly, but it only makes it so much worse because if he didn't do anything actively wrong then it must be him as a person who is wrong and that's not something Hitoshi can change.
He's tried before and it never works out.
"Kiddo, it's alright, promise," Yamada now chimes in and his words almost make Hitoshi laugh because if he has to sit here with them looking at him like this then nothing is alright. "We're just a little bit worried because you're sliding back into old habits," he then adds and nods at Hitoshi's arms.
"And we're wondering if there's a reason for it, anything that could have caused it," Aizawa takes over and Hitoshi stares down at his arms in confusion.
"I'm—not sure what you mean," he then admits, tugging on his sleeve again and Aizawa nods towards the motion.
"That. You were doing better, at least with us, here at home. But you've been covering up head to toe for a few days now and you keep tugging on your sleeves as if you want us to never see your scars again."
"And we figure, you were doing really well before, right, so there has to be a cause for this. Did someone say something? Are you just having a few bad days where everything is harder than before? We just want to know, kiddo, so we can help however we can," Yamada softly finishes and Hitoshi's eyes instantly burn with tears.
"Oh," he whispers out and forces himself to take his hand away from his sleeve.
He hadn't even noticed that he slipped back into hiding his scars away, but now that it's been brought to his attention he can definitely tell why.
"Is everything okay, Hitoshi?" Aizawa asks him outright and Hitoshi worries his lower lip for a moment.
This is really not how he wanted to come out to them or admit to any kind of relationship with Katsuki but—
"I'm seeing Katsuki," he blurts out, his eyes wide and worried and he doesn't like the frown that settles almost immediately on their faces.
"Did he say something about this? Has he been his typical self about the scars?" Yamada asks and Hitoshi instantly shakes his head because—
"He doesn't know."
"Ah," Aizawa breathes out. "You're hiding them from him. Why? You think he would make fun of you or something?"
"You—don't mind that I'm seeing him?" Hitoshi asks first, because they took that revelation in stride, but surely they can't be too happy about it, right?
Aizawa still calls Katsuki his problem child, much more so than he does Izuku these days, so they must have something to say about this.
"Well, kiddo, as in all things, you're taking after Shou. That you'd bring home a loud blonde is really not that much of a surprise, to be honest," Yamada says with a wink and Hitoshi can feel his face heating up at the comparison to Aizawa again.
"It's not as if I chose him because of that," he argues, almost weakly, and now it's Aizawa's turn to huff out a laugh.
"No, we don't doubt that. It's just—it happens, right? Loud blondes can be very persistent," he says as he elbows Yamada in the side, who simply beams at them. "So, no, we don't mind. We only mind if he's behaving inappropriately towards you, which would include being insensitive about your scars in a way that makes you hide them again." Aizawa hesitates for a second. "Is he?"
"No, no he's not, he—" Hitoshi catches himself tugging on his sleeve again and forces himself to sit on his hands. "He doesn't know."
"And why is that? I doubt he would mind it, seeing how he has his own scars," Yamada guesses and that, right there, is exactly the problem, which Aizawa seems to catch up on almost immediately.
"Are you hiding yours because he has his own scars?" he asks, his confusion so clearly audible in his voice and Hitoshi lets out a helpless sigh.
"It's different," he gives back. "His and my scars are not the same. He got his because he fought in the war, because he faced off against the worst evil the world has ever seen and he survived and I—I got mine because of shitty foster parents, who I didn't even fight against. Kats' scars are a sign of strength and mine are one of weakness. So yeah, he really doesn't have to see that," Hitoshi finishes, his voice only barely wobbling and he is so focused on not bursting into tears that he doesn't even notice when Yamada moves until he's right there, crushing him to his chest.
"Listen here, kiddo," Yamada says, and his voice doesn't allow any kind of protest. "You both got your scars because you went through something no kid should have any business going through and you both survived. That's it. That's all there is to it. No one's scars are worth more or less and there is almost no good way to get scars, especially not ones like you two have. Do you understand?"
Hitoshi can barely even nod his head with how hard Yamada is hugging him, but he sees the serious expression on Aizawa's face and he knows he agrees as well.
"We're not saying you have to show him, not if you don't want to or if you're not ready, but this? That's not a good reason to keep this a secret. And if you think he's a good enough person to be with then you should be able to trust him with this, too. Not immediately, not if you don't want to, but eventually. And if you can't see yourself opening up to him eventually, then this isn't right to begin with."
It's almost harsh, what Aizawa tells him, but Hitoshi knows that he's right. If Hitoshi sees them going somewhere then this is something he has to trust Katsuki with.
And it's really not about his reaction at all—Hitoshi doesn't doubt that Katsuki would bluntly acknowledge his scars and then move on, but in Hitoshi's mind these scars lower his worth in a way he's not sure Katsuki can look past because they mark his weakness.
Katsuki's scars are a proof of his strength and Hitoshi already has no way of measuring up to him.
"And you're not weak for being unable to defend yourself against someone who was supposed to take care of you. You shouldn't have been in that situation to begin with, just like Katsuki shouldn't have had to fight like that in a war. You both survived horrific things and that makes you the same."
Yamada's words rumble through his chest and Hitoshi leans further into it, chasing that feeling.
"I know," he finally admits, because deep down, buried under years of bullshit and self-worth issues he knows but he isn't quite ready to make his scars known.
"Kid, we're not asking you to go out there and tell him immediately. We’re just saying that it should be on your radar and that you still don't have to hide yourself away at home," Aizawa repeats and Hitoshi does his best to nod.
He was doing better here, with them; had days where he could come out in a muscle shirt, where he could dart from the bathroom to his own room with nothing but a towel without having a panic attack and now that they have pointed it out, he can admit that he was sliding back.
And he vows to do better; if not with Katsuki, not yet, then at least here, with them.
~*~*~
Barely two weeks have passed since that talk, when Hitoshi lets himself into Katsuki's room, nervously tugging on his sleeves.
It's been on his mind ever since and he knows he has to show Katsuki, has to let him know, even though his stomach is tying itself into knots over it.
Katsuki, of course, notices immediately and drops his pen, fully turning towards Hitoshi.
"You're freaking out," he accurately observes. "Why?" His eyes are narrowed and his posture is tense as if he has to get up and beat some sense into someone and Hitoshi forces himself to appear more relaxed, much to Katsuki's apparent displeasure.
"Don't do that shit with me," he grumbles. "Either tell me what's wrong or tell me to mind my own business."
It's a system that works for them—Katsuki tends to behave like a dog with a bone when he notices something off about Hitoshi but if Hitoshi seriously tells him to drop it, not now, I don't want to talk about it, then he backs off.
"There's something I have to talk to you about," Hitoshi forces himself to say, because if he runs now, he's going to run for a while and he finds that he doesn't want that with Katsuki.
He wants him to know, and he wants to be able to wear comfortable clothes and he most of all wants that nagging voice out of his head that tells him Katsuki is going to take one look at his scars, scoff, and kick him out.
"Well, show you, more like," Hitoshi adds at Katsuki's raised eyebrow and then his words promptly fail him.
"Okay, then speak. Or do something or whatever," Katsuki says after a long moment of silence and Hitoshi helplessly holds out his arms.
"I don't know how," he admits and a shudder of fear runs down his back when Katsuki takes his hands in his. "You have to—to just do it for me," Hitoshi tells him with a meaningful look at his sleeves and to his credit, Katsuki is quick to catch on.
He has noticed Hitoshi's reluctance before, has commented once or twice on the way he keeps his sleeves down at all times and so it doesn't take him long at all until understanding washes over his face.
Katsuki checks in with Hitoshi one more time, nothing more than a silent "Are you sure" with his eyes before he lets go of Hitoshi's hands and slides his own hands under his sleeve.
He must notice the raised scars immediately, his fingertips sliding over raised imperfection after raised imperfection, because his eyebrows jump up and when Katsuki pushes Hitoshi's sleeves up to get a good look at what he's already feeling, Hitoshi fights the urge to run.
It's out there now. The scars are on display and Katsuki definitely knows about them now, so there's nothing to hide anymore.
"They are not like yours," Hitoshi forces himself to say, his eyes locked onto the mess of scars on Katsuki's arm. "I got mine because I was weak."
"Bullshit," Katsuki immediately says, his fingers still tracing every scar he can reach, until they come to a stop at the clustered ones on Hitoshi's wrist. "These are old," he observes and Hitoshi can hear the question in his voice.
"I'm better now," he admits because he is.
The urge is still there, sometimes, and Hitoshi doubts it's ever going to go away completely, but his life is good and there's no reason for him to do this anymore.
Aizawa and Yamada are making sure of that.
"And these?" Katsuki asks next and trails over the thin, white lines criss-crossing Hitoshi's skin and now Hitoshi shudders for an entirely different reason. "Because I'd hurt anyone who ever left a scar on you. You just have to tell me."
There's an anger in his eyes Hitoshi has seen on Aizawa and Yamada before, when they figured out just how deep the abuse ran he had to endure his entire life and just like that it feels as if Hitoshi can breathe again.
"Aizawa and Yamada got there first," Hitoshi tells him and allows Katsuki to explore more of his skin, until his sleeves are all bunched up in his armpits.
"I hope they made it hurt. Are they all over?" Katsuki asks, still tracing the lines and it almost feels reverent in a way Hitoshi can't wrap his head around.
"Yeah," he breathes out and Katsuki's hand slides under his shirt, burning hot on his stomach as he traces the lines there as well. "I know they are not pretty but—"
Katsuki cuts him off with a kiss, almost aggressively stealing the words right out of his mouth and Hitoshi is just a little bit dazed when Katsuki moves away.
"You survived," Katsuki almost growls out, "that's the hottest thing ever. You gave a big fat 'fuck you' to whoever did this by surviving and striving and don't you ever forget it!"
There's absolutely no room for doubt in Katsuki's words and it's enough to bring hot tears to Hitoshi's eyes.
"I think I might love you," he chokes out, well aware that it's way too soon to say that but Katsuki doesn't move back in disgust, doesn't tell him to shut the fuck up, doesn't tell him to get out because he's way too busy kissing Hitoshi breathless.
"You better, because I don't just threaten actual torture for just everyone," he whispers against Hitoshi's lips when they part and it's such a Katsuki confession that Hitoshi laughs, the worry about his scars and imperfections taking a backseat under Katsuki's determined look.
"Noted," Hitoshi agrees and then allows Katsuki to slide his shirt off completely, before he explores every last scar on Hitoshi's torso.
By the time he's done, it almost feels as if he pressed his love into every single one of them and Hitoshi figures that like this, he might yet come to not minding them.
And he's pretty certain that Katsuki will be there to help him on that road.