Chapter Text
shoudeki blinks at the house, a bit curious. aizawa’s house was different here. which, expected.
he’s slow to enter the house at all, actually. even after multiple attempts to ‘locate’ his family in the database, and his tiny kid body ready to all but die then and there. the search had taken much too long. shoudeki wishes he could just ask for a DNA test and get thrown in with his mom again. that, however, is not his smartest move in another universe.
the detectives had been nice enough though, and they believed him about most of his information.
( they'd brought him to some sort of police station, shoudeki assumes they're looking him up already by name and description. if not- they would soon.
yamada stays closer to shoudeki than aizawa. he's quite okay with that. they picked up on his dislike for the man. eventually, yes, they wouldn't cater to this, but he'll take most of his distance. )
hitoshi gives him a too-amused look that makes him twitch with annoyance.
hizashi is looking at him now. shoudeki glances away, down at the two cats, and looks back up.
“i don’t have to… deal with the cats, do i?” he asks, tired voice enhancing his pleading factor.
the blonde smiles, waving a hand, “not your job, little listener! do you not like cats?”
“i prefer dogs.”
present mic nods easily enough and pushes him through the doorway in encouragement. usually, shoudeki would then snap at them. this is one exception. because there won’t be a cat on top of him tonight. he finally moves his legs into the house, watching his counterpart walk down a hallway towards a room. rude. the adults wave him towards the kitchen, giving him no other options.
aizawa grabs something out of the fridge, placing it on the counter in front of shoudeki, and walking towards the coffee pot. he eyes the juice box, wondering if he should ask for coffee instead.
"you seem pretty tired." aizawa says. the man turns around to look at shoudeki head on, coffee machine whirring idly.
"i'm ten," he replies in turn, "it'd be weird if i wasn't."
speaking of children and bedtimes- he glances around. there didn't seem to be any babysitter, no sign of the blonde teenager(mirio, was it?) from before. was the eri girl asleep already?
he shifts his eyes back to aizawa. did eri even exist here?
"there's no record of you." the man breaks the staring contest. he's blunt with his delivery. shoudeki's kind of thankful for it. "that should be… almost impossible, you know."
"it's not my fault."
( "he's… what?"
"not in any records. some almost match, but without a last name we can't get anything. all of the shoudeki's nearby don't match his appearance." their detective says, again. he looks confused and tired.
shoudeki feels for him. desk work is horrid.
yamada's crouching before him again, asking if he can remember anything. a house address, phone number, last name.
shoudeki interprets hitoshi's hidden signs and repeats again-
"the institution," shoudeki rubs his palms together, appearing nervous. "that's all they'd tell us." )
his hands busy themselves with the juice box, taking off the straw and fumbling to open the plastic. a small release of air as shoudeki pushes the open straw in.
aizawa is still staring him down. he adjusts his mask around his face. this was close to worst-case scenario- them figuring out who his parents are. the tension in the small kitchen has his shoulders rising to his ears.
"you like ramen, aizawa-san?" he asks. another deflection, he knows aizawa notices, but the tension decreases. "i had a friend who liked it a lot."
yamada stops trying to erase his presence in the corner. "ramen?"
"it's alright. i've only had proper ramen once or twice, not my favorite." aizawa answers.
shoudeki nods sagely, "aa. a sad life, my friend would say.”
“this is a conversation we need to finish at some point, little listener.” mic- and curse him, shoudeki was just starting to kind of like him -speaks up.
“well not tonight then,” he bites out, rubbing his eyes with enough pressure for spots to appear. “i’m tired.”
aizawa seems almost sympathetic. shoudeki very much wishes he weren’t. the bitter black-coffee smell once again reaches him and he almost collapses. the two heroes share a glance, speaking without speaking. a hand touches his back, mic gesturing towards the drink again.
“it’ll help you sleep. we’ll finish talking tomorrow.” the blonde says, much quieter than shoudeki’s heard him the entire night. “sorry, kiddo.”
great, seems they’ve at least realized how late it is.
he gives them both one last look, using the straw through his mask. this’ll leave the fabric kind of sticky for a while, but he’s nowhere near ready to care about that right now. shoudeki blinks slowly.
“where am i going to sleep?” he aims the question at yamada, mainly because he doesn’t want to see whatever guilt aizawa has about keeping him up.
yamada pauses for a moment. “for tonight, i’m sorry, but you’ll probably use the couch until we can-”
“there’s an extra futon in the closet.”
they both look towards aizawa, shoudeki a couple seconds slower. even mic seems confused.
aizawa’s not looking at them. he’s refilling his(somehow empty?) coffee mug. “i bought it a while ago, for hitoshi, before he got his own. it’s small enough.”
“you’re right!” yamada snaps, smiling, “thanks, sho!"
and shoudeki… isn’t unpacking that. this isn’t his universe, this isn’t his problem. the blonde hero darts down the hall, bringing back a stack of cushion. frankly, he feels almost bad for the effort they’re going through. more than likely, he’ll find himself staring at the ceiling rather than sleeping. that isn’t their fault though. not like they can tell them enough cringe-worthy jokes that make him want to sleep.
oh, right.
his mom.
shoudeki thinks he misses her. he’s not going to break down- even though his eyes begin to burn. being a child is hard. hands squeeze into fists and he pretends not to notice. he will get back, won't he? if his counterpart had the sharingan, there's a chance.
( the detective seems even more tired than shoudeki is.
"please, kid, if there's anything you can give us-"
he crosses his arms and leans back in his own chair, huffing. "i don't know!" )
the boy watches both heroes set up the bed in the living room, talking to one another along the way. it's a quiet scene and shoudeki finds himself not quite enjoying it.
he then finds himself alone in the living room not too long later.
the futon is nice, he'll admit. it's not so large that he's encased, but not so small that he can't spread out on his back and just look. it seems he was right- about not sleeping. shoudeki stares around the living room, eyes wandering over framed photos. the silence is also a bit much for him. at the least, air conditioning lightens the load some. a flash in the corner of his eye, and shoudeki glances over for a moment. seeing who it is, he closes his eyes and sighs like a man his age deserves to.
“haven’t got enough of me?” he asks, sitting up to look at hitoshi. "or are we hear to talk about the 'institution' excuse?"
“you’re having trouble sleeping.” the other boy says in return.
“very well noticed, shinsou-kun!” shoudeki mumbles, stretching his arms, “have a gold star, or three.”
hitoshi doesn’t seem to appreciate that, squinting at him while he himself settles on the floor. then, the staredown begins anew. his counterpart’s face does something strange, and finally he speaks again.
“i only have two things to ask, tonight. you can ask another two whenever.”
“twenty questions? why not.”
“you look a little too much like aizawa. why?” is what hitoshi asks first.
“skip.”
he deadpans. “you can’t skip. answer.”
shoudeki’s shoulders droop, and he sighs. “no breaks for an old man, then?”
“answer, shoudeki.” something about the way hitoshi says his name almost makes him flinch.
he crosses his arms, chin tilted down like he’s about to deliver a speech. shoudeki chews his cheek, debating his answer for a moment. then, he speaks.
“technically he’s my father. like- biologically. not the orphan thing you got going on.” he waves one hand around the room vaguely.
hitoshi freezes. ah, the lovely topic of hatake fathers. shoudeki shifts uncomfortably. The silence lingers for a couple minutes before hitoshi’s able to shake it off.
“i guess that leads me to our next question,” he says, “why don’t you like him?”
“he’s… weird. and he’s planning to keep me away from my mom, or something.” shoudeki responds. “ms. joke, the hero, by the way. emi fukakado if you want to research her like a creep.”
“why would he do that?”
“guilt, probably. or something of the sort. he didn’t know i existed.”
“and how did aizawa not know that?” hitoshi asks, his fourth question out of two.
“he didn’t exactly remember their one night.” shoudeki shrugs, leaning back into the wall. “mom never told him. hero politics and all.”
“ah."
“ah.” shoudeki agrees.
"you shouldn't… blame a man for things he did in another universe," hitoshi speaks, slowly, "aizawa isn't that bad."
"first impressions tend to last. i can try."
hitoshi looks to accept that. shoudeki- for all he doesn't favor aizawa -has gathered enough to know they're close. teacher-father-figure as he is to hitoshi, he's only willing to do so much. shoudeki's quite happy being unhelpful.
"so. i get to ask four questions next time too?"
hitoshi looks vaguely embarrassed for a moment, as if realizing what he did, but shakes it off fairly quickly. with a small shrug he says,
"sure. not like there's anything you won't find out anyway."
shoudeki smiles a bit, "how do you mean? i don't snoop into people's lives- so assuming of you!"
he only blinks back at him, not giving him a response. shoudeki moves his hair out of his face again, behind an ear. wishing he had hitoshi's luck on that end.
said teen-but-not-really rolls to his feet. hitoshi walks back towards his room, raising a hand in goodbye. it's really kind of rude. shoudeki won't push him on it anyway.
the boy lays back down himself, letting out a breath. he's much too tired to deal with that. hitoshi is very much like looking into an older mirror. his mistakes, his old habits. it's all so odd to watch, mannerisms that he sanded out during or after the fourth war.
all the angst really helps too.
no resolution with his father, even. just a kakashi who'd barely taught his students and sent them off with another teacher. he can't imagine how well hitoshi's doing at U.A. of all places.
have they even gotten hero licenses? after all, it's one thing to think about his old world's timeline. but now the modern one as well? he has little clue about anything. if the sports festival has happened, if the licensing exam has happened. there's very little he knows about U.A.'s timeline- shoudeki had no access when melded so closely to his mother's side.
not that he was complaining. he was, in fact, very grateful for his mom.
shoudeki falls asleep quickly, to his later surprise.