Work Text:
Aizawa's impulse to be an overt romantic had died with Shirakumo. Certainly, it never reared up again with anyone else since. Now, the desperate longing he kept locked away for more than a decade threatened to spill over. He forced it back with a sharp breath, but only momentarily.
“I should have known it was you.” Aizawa gazed at Kurogiri, his tense posture more relaxed than it had been… limbs loose, hands on thighs, instead of glaring with arms folded.
“How would you have known?” The question seemed genuine and touched with curiosity.
“Your mist. It has the same texture and movement as Shirakumo's cloud hair.” Aizawa's voice was wistful as he almost felt the soft locks falling between his fingers. “The upturn of the corners of your eyes matches his. Your height too. He was exceptionally tall for a teenager. And, your unyielding protectiveness.”
“Intriguing. How deeply have you studied the man I used to be, that you speak of him so?”
“More deeply than anyone.”
The glowing eyes danced, yielding Shirakumo's face through black fog. He smiled, and Aizawa's heart leapt.
“And yet you didn't recognize me, just as I didn't recognize you. No fault in that,” Shirakumo added. “I’m a stranger to myself these days.”
“I asked you once if you felt anything when you saw me.” His soft tone caused Kurogiri's mist to shift, undulating around Shirakumo as if waiting to draw him back. “I didn't wait for your answer, but I would like to know now… did you?”
Shirakumo faded, leaving Kurogiri to respond. “No.” His reply was perfunctory but not unkind. “I was focused on the mission, and on protecting Tomura Shigaraki.” As the name was easily spoken, the mood shifted, and Aizawa's heart sank. “How is Tenko Nedzu faring?”
“He's fine. Keeping himself busy as usual.”
“Please let him know I would be pleased to see him again. Soon.”
“I will,” Aizawa assured him.
“I would very much prefer Tenko to tell me he is well, directly.”
“He will come again soon,” Aizawa conceded with a nod. It was a disappointing turn to their time together without Tenko, but a good start. Hopefully with more solo visits, the brief breakthroughs would become more common.
***
Weeks passed, the conversations growing easier and more familiar. Kurogiri began to ask Aizawa to clarify whether his thoughts were recollection, or fiction. As a result, Shirakumo's visage showed often and more clearly, the more they reminisced together. Aizawa listened in rapt attention whether Kurogiri or Shirakumo spoke. They were equal parts of one another, and Aizawa felt himself growing more and more attached to the man on the other side of the glass.
One Sunday, Aizawa got permission to bring a sushi lunch for them to share. The gesture of such a special meal between them seemed to spark more curiosity, lowering Kurogiri's dominance so Shirakumo could linger. Aizawa wanted nothing more than to sit side by side as they used to, stealing off one another's tray, sharing a drink without a second thought.
Damn glass enclosure.
It was swiftly becoming an obstacle, one Aizawa felt was unnecessary by then. Perhaps his emotions were clouding his judgment. Or, perhaps his intuition about Kurogiri's gentleness was right. Either way, until significant advances were made in Kurogiri's rehabilitation, he was told the barrier would remain.
“I missed this.” Shirakumo stuffed his cheeks full like a chipmunk, his excitement apparent.
Aizawa grunted. “I can imagine. The food in here must suck.”
“I don't just mean the sushi.” As Aizawa lifted his head, their eyes locked intensely, and Shirakumo went on. “Tell me something about us.”
A shiver ran down Aizawa's spine at the request. He leaned forward, keeping Shirakumo's gaze. “Does Rapunzel mean anything to you?”
Like light reflecting water, Shirakumo shone more clearly, the familiar cheeky smile focused on Aizawa with intent. “Huh. I'm not sure. Maybe I need a reminder.”
Shameless flirt.
It had been forever since that attention was focused on him. Aizawa's heart ached from echoes of that expression, as it once peered down at him from a dormitory window. That night, Aizawa used his capture scarves to try to climb to Shirakumo's window in a grand gesture of confession. As he hung outside the window, fumbling shyly with his words, Shirakumo sent a cloud for him to sit on. In character with his impulsive nature, Shirakumo then directed the cloud to lift Aizawa so their mouths could meet. No more words were necessary… just the way Aizawa preferred.
Their unspoken feelings had progressed organically, into a relationship comfortable in the familiarity of simply being with one another.
A piece of Aizawa went missing with the loss of Shirakumo— irrevocably, like a shadow constantly following him but never catching up. He had resigned himself to never seeing those beautiful eyes again. Yet, here they were.
“Shouta?”
Aizawa blinked away the reverie, focusing instead on the sweet face in front of him.
“I used my capture scarves to climb to your dorm room to confess.”
“And I finally got to kiss you. I remember now. Took you long enough.”
Aizawa stared at him, lower lip dropped in astonishment. “You were waiting on me?”
“You were so dense! It was cute though.” Shirakumo gestured with his chopsticks for effect, his eyes darting to his tray, then back to Aizawa. “You still are.”
“Do you think this— “ Aizawa sighed, setting his lunch aside and rubbing his palms on his knees. “These sentiments. Are they based on memories of what we once had, or actual present feelings?”
“I hadn't given it much thought,” Shirakumo admitted. “To be honest, I could ask the same of you. Are you fixated on who we were, long ago, or could you have feelings for me, as I am?”
“I wouldn't be here if I were just chasing a memory,” Aizawa replied tenderly.
The mist converged, yellow light flashing through the black smoke as Kurogiri glitched and swirled back into place. “Why are you here?”
“At first, it was because I missed who you were. Now, I love who you are.”
The room fell silent, and in the next moment, Kurogiri's glowing eyes tilted into the unexpected expression of a smile.
“Shouta.” The word was a breath, an affectionate prayer, and it unlocked something from deep inside Aizawa. It would be inaccurate to say he felt like a teenager again. Rather, he felt like he was falling in love anew with the one person he could never truly be without. A weight was lifted, and as Shirakumo peered through the black mist, Aizawa felt his life about to shift into an unexpected future of joy.