Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Shouta’s first impulse upon seeing the new teacher was to bash their head in and then promptly dispose of the body out the fourth story window.

Which wasn’t a typical response to meeting new people for him. No matter what his husband and friends say.

So he shook himself. Checked in with his body to see if maybe he needed more caffeine or if his old knee injury was acting up. Nothing flagged as unusual after his brief systems check. If anything he was feeling better than usual after a full five hours of sleep last night.

He looked back up at the new teacher, now bowing before them as Principal Nedzu introduced him.

The frisson of nerves that skated up his spine almost made him bolt out of his chair.

What. The fuck.

Why was this slight, rather demure young man causing his instincts to go haywire?

There was no hint that he might be carrying a hidden weapon, though, Shouta huffed, anything can be a weapon with enough ingenuity. Or it could look completely harmless to those who don’t know. His own weapon got mistaken as an odd scarf all the time by civilians.

And the clothes the new teacher had on could conceal anything. His atrociously bright yellow sweater hung loose on his lean frame, leaving any number of gaps and spaces to store a small knife or two.

Hizashi coughed delicately and Shouta’s gaze snapped to him. No one was talking. And everyone was looking at him. Hizashi gave him a flat look of exasperation.

Oh right. Introductions. He stood up and bowed towards the new teacher.

“Shouta Aizawa, hero Eraserhead.”

Nedzu chittered at his less than welcoming greeting as he dropped back down into his seat. “Man of few words, which is in your favor as you’ll be seated next to him! Your desk is there if you’d like to take a seat and I’ll finish up announcements.”

The new teacher nodded politely and headed towards Shouta who returned to his assessment. He didn’t carry himself like a fighter or a hero would. Sure, he walked and spoke confidently enough, brown eyes cool and assessing behind large, thick rimmed glasses, but his general demeanor screamed gentleness.

When he sat down, he folded his feet up under his chair, clasped his hands in his lap, and gave Nedzu his undivided attention. He looked like the epitome of a librarian, ready to get lost among the shelves and help kids find books for school projects. Not surrounded by hardened pro heroes in the top hero school in Japan.

His tweed pants matched the dark button up under the blinding sweater for heaven's sake.

Shouta forcibly stopped himself from rolling his eyes. He knew he should trust his instincts. Nedzu had drilled it into him for years and he had ample evidence to suggest it was wise.

Plenty of scars as stark reminders of what awaits should he ignore them.

He snuck another glance over. The new teacher was now taking notes of Nedzu’s ramblings. His pen was a glittery pink.

Well. His instincts were allowed to be wrong at least once, Shouta supposed.

He forcibly shoved the warning buzz to the back of his mind. Besides, he rationalized. Nedzu must trust him at least a little if he hired him. Though… Shouta skirted his eyes over a few desks to Ringleader. That one is a problem. Technically Nedzu didn’t hire him, the Commission did. But he hasn’t fired him either. So should I trust his decision now?

Ringleader had been placed in as the economics teacher by the Commission years before Shouta and Hizashi had been hired. Nedzu had ranted about him plenty of times over family dinners but was forced to play nice to keep on good terms with the governing body of heroes. And so far the middle aged hero hadn’t done anything Nedzu deemed a suitable cause for removal. 

Though, personally, Shouta thought a simple evisceration would have been sufficient after Ringleader pressed his advances on Hizashi even after Hizashi had given a firm “No.” At this point, the only thing that stopped him from slitting Ringleaders throat after every snide flirtation or wandering hand was the continued assurance from Nedzu that he had a plan to destroy Ringleaders career and reputation beyond repair.

And a promise from Nedzu was surer than death.

Currently, Ringleader was leering at the new teacher, not even pretending to pay attention to Nedzu. Shouta felt a rush of relief that he figured he should feel guilty for but didn’t bother. If it meant Hizashi could have a break from being accosted at his place of work (and keep Shouta from planning a homicide during every break) who was he to get in the way?

“And with that, I look forward to a splendid new year at U.A. with you all!”

Shouta snapped back into focus as Nedzu wrapped up and left them to their own devices. As the door shut behind him, Shouta’s friends descended upon the new teacher.

Nemuri got to him first.

“Welcome to UA darling! If you need anything at all just let me know.” She purred and threw him a sultry wink. “I’d be more than happy to give you a private tour of the grounds.”

Now Shouta did roll his eyes as he turned to his computer, ready to pretend to finalize his lesson plans while he listened in on the conversation.

“We have such a large campus! There’s so many storage rooms and hidden corners to get lost in.”

Damn. She was really laying it on thick. Any more batting of her eyelashes and she’d blow the poor sod away.

Unperturbed, the new teacher responded with a kind smile that made a dimple appear.

“Thank you Ms. Midnight, but Principal Nedzu has already given me a tour of the school. Though, if you have a moment later today, I would love to ask you about the LGBTQA+ support group you manage for the students! Children deserve to feel comfortable in who they are and I was so excited to hear that UA had such a group. Especially when he said it was led by you!”

Shouta’s fingers stumbled over a few keys as he typed. That was the most disarming response to Nem’s flirting he’d ever heard. And he’d heard a lot of responses. It was her preferred method of greeting new people, lovingly called FFR, or First Flirt Response by her and Hizashi. And while Shouta disliked it on principle, (and refused to call it that) he couldn’t argue with the results. It was brutally effective at singling out the rotten apples.

Unsurprisingly, Ringleader had been one of the rotten apples.

But it seemed the new teacher was doing well so far. He’d at least rendered Nem partially mute which was an achievement in itself.

“I… you- What? You were excited to hear it was led by me?” Nem asked, genuinely confused.

“Of course! You’re such a fierce advocate for laws that protect the rights of women and children! I know for a fact that without your support the laws surrounding domestic abuse and marital rape wouldn’t be half as comprehensive and favorable towards the victims as they would have been. And you were instrumental in the construction of at least seven women's shelters that I know of, you’ve attended more rallies and parades than I can count, use your social media platform to spread awareness and support for the queer community, and just so much else! I am a huge fan!”

Shouta gave up the pretense of typing to absorb what the new teacher said. Not the content, all of it was true, but what it meant for the new teacher to know all of it.

Nem hadn’t started her career as the dominatrix hero everyone saw today but after an incident years ago, it became a persona she’d embraced. For better or worse.

For better, she was able to use her popularity and privilege to help those in need and give a voice to the marginalized.

For worse, everyone disregarded those achievements in favor of drooling over her sex appeal.

It was curious that the new teacher idolized her for all that. But not unwelcome. She deserved more peers who recognized her hard work beyond him, Zashi, Tensei, and Nedzu.

He shared a quick glance with Hizashi as he rounded the row of desks to join the group. A quirk of his eyebrows showed Zashi was just as impressed as he was.

“Wow Nem! Do I hear I have competition for the role of your biggest fan?” Zashi grinned wide as he draped himself across her shoulders, giving her a moment to collect herself as he stole the attention of the new teacher. Said teacher grinned again, two dimples appearing briefly this time.

“I wouldn’t dare challenge you to anything Present Mic!” He chirped, clearly delighted at the appearance of the Voice Hero.

“Whaaaat?” Hizashi whined out. “That’s no fun, I love challenges. Why not? Is it because I’m intimidating?” He dropped his voice into a theatrical growl and waggled his fingers out in the direction of the new teacher, his eyebrows wiggling as well.

“Ha!” Nem cut in, “Intimidating my ass! You couldn’t scare a baby!” She poked him hard in the side and he jerked back.

“Hey!”

“Actually you are!” The new teacher interrupted before they could really start roughhousing. He adjusted his glasses and crossed his legs, appearing to settle himself in for a lecture.

“First, your quirk itself is terrifyingly powerful. If it weren’t for your ironclad control over it, every person you talk to could be liquified, not even getting into what it could do to a cityscape if you really let loose. But you don’t ever lose control and your capture to casualty ratio is incredible, better than the whole top ten combined! Though, Endeavor is included in that so it is a pretty easy statistic to beat. But that doesn’t diminish your record or make it any less impressive!”

Huh. A casual dig at Endeavor? From someone so unassuming, it seemed odd. After years of Endeavor's lawyers destroying anyone who so much as breathed wrong in his direction, not many were brave enough to slander him in public.

“To be able to use such a destructive quirk so effectively suggests a level of cunning intelligence and years and years of dedication and practice. Facing off against someone like that? I would put myself in handcuffs before you could even think to shout.”

“So I can get you in handcuffs without saying a word? That’s good to know.” Zashi quipped back with a wink. The new teacher threw his head back with a bright laugh.

Hizashi might have been quick with his responding flirt but Shouta could tell he was taken aback.

Much like Nem, Zashi had carefully constructed his persona over years of being a hero. He’d done so well that now, people never looked beyond his bubbly, radio personality and assumed that was all he was. It made it all the easier for him to take down his opponents when they underestimated him.

Shouta squinted at his computer without really seeing the screen, his fingers mindlessly tapping at the keys. Was this why his instincts reared up near the man? At the very least he’d demonstrated a willingness to research his new coworkers beforehand. Gathering information before stepping into an unfamiliar environment was the practical thing to do. Exceedingly logical.

But.

Was there more to it? His description of Zashi’s quirk was unerringly accurate and pointed to a sharp mind, able to piece together an assessment beyond what capture rates and ratios could say. All without having met Hizashi before.

With a penchant for research paired with intelligence like that, what else could he have figured out?

Does he know about me and Zashi? Are we in danger? Shouta shook himself mentally before he could really start spiraling. I've never left a trace behind. I can’t be this paranoid every time someone is smart around me.

“It’s easy to have good stats when a hero doesn’t patrol very often.” A self satisfied voice interjected. Shouta grit his teeth. “Yamada spends a lot of time yammering into a microphone so his patrols are far and few between.”

Ringleader had finally joined the conversation.

Hizashi stiffened beside him. Shouta discreetly slid a hand to his capture scarf and shifted slightly so he’d be able to jump out of his chair easier if needed. It’d be a new record for him if he got into a fight with Ringleader before school had officially started.

“Ringleader.” The new teacher nodded in greeting.

What a dumb hero name too. Though Shouta could admit he was being petty at this point. And maybe a hypocrite. But still, Ringleader?

It wasn’t wrong necessarily, just juvenile. He could conjure tangible, immovable rings of air that he used to capture criminals as long as he touched any part of them first. His favorite method was to set a ring around one foot as they ran, causing them to trip and slam their face into the ground.

The number of petty thieves and juvenile delinquents with broken noses and fractured cheek bones was stupidly high and drove Detective Tsukauchi up the wall.

Ringleader loomed over the new teacher, smiling down with his normal condescension. The moment grew awkward as the new teacher didn’t say more, staring at Ringleader as the man clearly waited for a stunning expose off his character like he had done for Nem and Zashi.

When the new teacher kept quiet and just stared at him, Ringleader visibly bolstered himself and pushed on. “You’re teaching Hero Law? That’s one of the boring ones like mine.” He’d made it well known he thought teaching economics was beneath him. He was constantly jealous of Shouta for teaching Heroics and vied for his position any chance he could get.

“Going to be tough to keep the kids in line, especially since you don’t look much like a hero. I bet a strong breeze could knock you over!” He laughed loudly, pretending to playfully hit the new teachers shoulder as if he was in on the joke. Shouta could tell he’d put too much strength behind the hit for it to be anything other than a petty retribution for his earlier silence. But the new teacher didn’t react to the hit at all beyond a tightening of his pleasant smile.

He still didn’t respond. Ringleader's laughter petered out before he coughed and switched tactics.

“What’s your hero name then? You didn’t say and I don’t remember seeing you in the rankings.

Shouta half expected him to remain mute yet again but it seemed he couldn’t ignore a direct question.

“You wouldn’t have. I’m not a hero.”

Time continued on for a moment before screeching to a halt. The new teacher wasn’t a hero? Though, now thinking back, Nedzu hadn’t mentioned his hero status during the introduction. Zashi discreetly tucked his hand into Shouta’s side and pinched. He was just as shocked apparently.

Ringleader wasn’t taking it well either, though much less discreetly. He was gaping like a fish.

“You aren’t a hero?”

“No.”

“But- why would? Then your quirk must be powerful. Nedzu wouldn’t hire someone insignificant to teach here.”

“Principal Nedzu,” the new teacher emphasized, “hired me because I have thorough knowledge of law, heroic or otherwise. In fact, I would say I know more about heroic law than most heroes. Especially certain ones in this room.” He said with a pointed look at Ringleader. One that he took no notice of as he bulldozed past the insult.

“What’s your quirk?”

The new teacher now looked disgruntled, sighing deeply. If they hadn’t been before, every teacher in the lounge was silent, invested in the conversation happening before them.

“It is powerful.” He admitted. Ringleader looked triumphant. “It’s difficult to use to its fullest extent and I’ve trained it for years. It’s something no one has seen before and it drives quirk analysts mad trying to figure it out. I named it myself actually as the doctor I saw when it first manifested couldn’t comprehend it.” He’d turned grave by the end, his smile dropping and speaking in a hushed voice. Everyone was subconsciously leaning in closer, waiting with bated breath for the reveal.

“Well? What is it?” Ringleader boomed, looking ready to shake the new teacher.

“It’s called Nunya.”

The silence was so absolute for a moment that Shouta could hear Nedzu shift in the vents above them. Hizashi's hand suddenly twisted tight in Shouta's jumpsuit and he clapped a hand to his mouth, apparently having figured something out before the rest of them.

“Nunya?” Confusion was etched across Ringleader's face, mirrored across the room with the exception of Hizashi who seemed to be vibrating in anticipation next to Shouta.

“Nunya Business.” The new teacher said crisply before spinning to his desk in clear dismissal.

Shouta snorted and then everyone lost it, the tension in the room snapping.

Cementoss and Snipe were snickering over their coffees in the kitchenette, and even Vlad King was amused, laughing quietly to himself. Nem was on the floor, barely breathing and Zashi looked fit to join her, his laughter soundless to keep it from blasting the room but shaking his whole body.

Ringleader was furious.

“You little fucker. I asked you a question and I expect an answer-”

“Now, now. We all have a lot of work to do to be ready for our students next week!” A clone of Ectoplasm jumping out of him from his desk on the other side of the new teacher, blocking Ringleader from advancing any further. He flapped his hands at him, shooing him back to his seat though Shouta noted Ringleader’s anger didn’t fade. “Let’s all get back to work as well.”

“Nem dear, get off the floor.” Hizashi said, his voice warbling with restrained laughter. Together they fumbled her off the floor and they both dropped heavily into their chairs. Soon enough the last of the chuckles died out and the morning settled into the normal quiet hum of work.

A few hours in and Shouta almost missed the quiet voice that was directed at him for the first time that morning.

“Thank you Eraserhead.”

It was soft enough for only him to hear and he turned slightly to eye the new teacher. They were looking at their computer, typing away as if they hadn’t said anything though he caught the slight flicker of their eyes towards him as he’d turned.

“For what?” He grumbled, as quiet as he had been. Another flicker of a brown eye and then their typing stopped for a moment before they clicked around and continued typing. A message popped up on his screen.

NS 9:46 am

For being ready to step in if things turned violent. RL isn’t known for his gentle temper.

He blinked. He’d noticed that?

EH 9:46 am

You’re an idiot to provoke him.

Whoops. Probably not the best opening line for a first impression. But Shouta did think he was an idiot and didn’t see the point in not saying so. Though Zashi was probably going to yell at him for it later.

The new teacher didn’t seem to mind his reproach considering the small chuckle he gave at his response.

NS 9:47 am

I propose it’d be more idiotic of me to waste my time pandering to the fragile pride of fools.

EH 9:49 am

I can’t disagree with you on that, but RL holds grudges and will make your life hell if you don’t make nice.

NS 9:54 am

Careful Eraserhead, it almost sounds like you care.

Shouta scoffed out loud but turned it into a cough at Hizashi’s questioning look. He blinked slowly at him and he turned away. They’d talk about it later.

EH 9:54 am

I don’t. I want to teach in peace and an angry RL disrupts that. Make nice with him.

NS 9:57 am

Hm. I didn’t expect that of you. I’m a little disappointed.

EH 9:58 am

Excuse me?

NS 10:02 am

Judging from the profiles of those you’ve arrested, I thought it’d be safe to assume that you would not allow for anyone of his kind to be around children, let alone pander to his inflated ego.

EH 10:03 am

His kind?

NS 10:05 am

Criminals.

A sinking feeling settled in Shouta’s stomach.

EH 10:07 am

That’s a bit far. Sure he’s an asshole and harasses Present Mic, but he teaches well enough and is a decent enough hero.

NS 10:07 am

He harasses Present Mic?

EH 10:08 am

Yes, but that doesn’t make him a criminal. And Nedzu wouldn’t retain any of us if we had criminal tendencies.

NS 10:08 am

Wouldn’t he?

His blood ran cold. The new teacher sent another message before he could gather his wits to reply.

NS 10:09 am

Your faith in the principal blinds you to his shortcomings.

EH 10:11 am

And you know him so well?

NS 10:12 am

Well enough to know that he indulges in what amuses him. And cares more for spectacle than adherence to law.

Shouta gave up the pretense of work and turned fully towards the new teacher to find him already looking and his eyes caught on brown.

They studied each other.

Shouta knew what the new teacher would see. Two day old scruff he couldn’t be assed to shave, trademarked eye bags of a chronic insomniac, and the general appearance of a fatigued, overworked teacher and hero. And though his mask was more true to who he truly was than Zashi’s or Nem’s, it was still a mask. Put on to keep people underestimating him. Overlooking him.

So Shouta scoured the new teacher’s face, looking for the boundaries of their mask, trying to find where the edges were peeling away to reveal what was underneath. To see if the buzzing in the back of his head was justified.

His tanned skin was flawless. So, he’s proud of his appearance and puts in effort to maintain it. It also means he hasn’t been in any major conflicts so he was most likely telling the truth about not being a hero.

Every hero Shouta knows has facial scars, even if they’re small, from ricocheting debris or a wayward knife. He has a few himself, though his main facial scars are near his temples. And they weren’t from hero work.

But the new teacher has none. His thick brown hair has been intricately braided and coiled, tucked into a low bun which implies there is someone in his life intimate enough with him to be a part of his morning routine.

A dimple on the left side of his mouth when he smiles- Wait. Smiling? Oh fuck, we’ve been staring at each other too long. Sure enough, the new teacher seemed amused now, watching Shouta survey him.

With a sniff of irritation, Shouta turned back to his computer and slapped out his last message.

EH 10:16 am

You’re wrong about Nedzu. But no matter, do what you will.

NS 10:17 am

I always do.

Yes, he’d need to keep any eye on this new teacher. Somehow, he was dangerous. Unbidden, a thrill raced up Shouta's spine.

Hm.

At the very least, maybe he could be convinced to remember his name.

Neyan Shirogane.

Chapter Text

“Shoutaaaaaaaaaa.”

The plaintive whine trailed out from the living room where Hizashi was folding their clothes. It was their Lazy Sunday™ they had once a month where they did nothing but stay inside, do low stress chores, read books, and cuddle.

Shouta had been peacefully cooking dinner before his husband decided to start whining.

“What.” He said flatly.

“Why doesn’t he want to hang out with us?”

It was a mark of how many times Zashi had already complained about this that Shouta knew who the culprit was without asking.

Shirogane. 

School had started months ago and it had been full of offers to after work drinks from not just Hizashi, but Nem and Snipe and Cementoss. Every offer had been met with a kind rejection. 

Ringleader had tried as well but it wasn’t as surprising he’d been turned down. Less kindly. 

“Maybe energetic blondes aren’t his type.”

A dramatic gasp came from the living room and Shouta didn’t need to see Hizashi to know he was clutching his non-existent pearl necklace. 

“Excuse you, energetic blondes are everyones type.”

Shouta hummed and put the finishing touches on the side dish.

“I’ll need to check your sources.”

Zashi appeared next to him and poked him in the side. Shouta hip checked him back.

“My sources are ‘Fuck’ and ‘Off.’ Both peer reviewed by ‘Everyone Loves Me.’’”

“That passed the board? What is research coming to these days?”

“Shoutaaaaaaa.”

His lanky husband draped himself over him, making Shouta stumble a bit with the unexpected weight. He set down his spatula to pick up the new growth and plopped him down onto the dining room table. 

He cupped Zashi’s face with both hands, rubbing his thumbs in soothing circles under those electric green eyes of his.

“I don’t know Zashi. Maybe ask him?” The green eyes rolled. Shouta booped his nose. “I’m serious.”

“So what, go up to him and be like ‘Hey, I know you’ve been turning us down since you started working here but I really really want to be your friend so what can we do to make that happen?’”

“Got it in one.” Shouta turned back to the stove to start plating their food.

“That is the most kindergarten thing Sho, I can’t do that! I might as well get him one of those BFF necklaces. Ya know, like the ones that are pieces of bread with jelly and peanut butter? Or the lock and key ones? Those are nice and lame. Should work perfect.” If Zashi’s tone was any more acidic he’d peel the paint off the walls. 

“Well obviously not with those kinds. You’d need the pizza slice ones to really stand a chance.”

Shouta chuckled as Zashi squawked indignantly and smacked at him as he approached the table with their food.

“Sorry love.” He placed a placating kiss on his forehead as he passed and Zashi huffed but let it go.

“Seriously, why don’t you try just asking him?”

“I can’t do that! What if that doesn’t work?! No, no, no, it has to be that we just haven’t asked him the right way yet.”

Shouta paused. Then finished setting down the plates and leaned against the table, looking at his husband. 

Long blond hair up in a messy bun, loose t-shirt, boxers, and fuzzy socks. Standard Lazy Sunday™  attire. 

To the untrained eye, nothing was amiss. But Shouta knew Zashi better than the man knew himself some days. The subtle tic in his right eye, his fingers drumming erratically on the table, the jumpy unconscious humming he did when he was genuinely anxious.

Shouta stepped forward and gently took his hands in his. 

“Hey now. What is this really about Zash? I haven’t ever seen you this stressed out over someone. Usually you’d just yell out ‘You’re loss!’ if someone didn’t want to be your friend and move on.”

Hizashi slumped, knocking his head on Shouta’s chest. 

“I can’t really explain it, Sho. I just want his approval?”

Shouta nodded sagely.

“So it’s a kink thing.”

Zashi smacked the backside of his head before he even registered the movement.

“Ow!”

“No! You doofus. It’s more like when you see someone really really cool and you get all nervous talking to them because you want them to think you’re cool too but you know it’s hopeless because they are just so cool and how could you ever hope to measure up but you just keep trying so goddamn hard. And it doesn’t happen often to me because I hangout with you and I’m me and come on, look at us, we are the coolest people in the world.”

Shouta looked down to Zashi’s fuzzy socks and his own comfortable clothes, covered in a frilly pink apron with the words “Kitchen Slut” bedazzled on the chest. A lovely homemade gift from Nem he refused to tell her he used daily.

“Oh yes. The epitome of cool.”

“Exactly!” Hizashi said with a flourish. “So firstly I am desensitized to cool people based on proximity to us, and secondly, there aren’t that many cool people in the world anyway so I haven’t had to worry about it.”

“Really going for a record on the number of times you can say cool, aren’t you.”

“I can say it more and you know it.”

“Please don’t. Carry on.”

“Basically, Shirogane is very cool and I’m very nervous about fucking it all up.”

He pouted up at Shouta, eyes big behind his glasses and lips looking irresistible. He had to beat back the urge to slam him back onto the table and tear off his clothes. Now was not the time. He was anxious and needed reassurance. So Shouta kept holding his hands and thought about what he said.

“Alright. I understand why you’re anxious theoretically. But I’m getting stuck on the part where you think Shirogane is… cool?”

“Of course he is!” Zashi said indignantly, dropping his hands.

“We are talking about the same person right?” Shouta sat down at his normal spot, facing the front door. Hizashi slid off his perch and joined him, seated across the table. 

“Shirogane, who wears clothes stolen straight from a retirement home? The same man who gets unironically excited about the tiniest of wording changes in laws? And who then proceeds to explain those changes to you for hours on end?”

“I still say we could have balanced a bunch of desk stuff on Vlad during that. He was definitely asleep and Shirogane was too caught up in his rant to notice.” Hizashi mumbled after he thanked Shouta for the food and started to dig in.

“Maybe next time. You’re telling me you think that Shirogane is cool?”

“You seriously don’t see it?”

“I seriously don’t.”

“Didn’t realize I was married to a blind man. All that quirk use finally caught up huh?”

He flicked a small bit of noodle at his husband. Hizashi plucked it off his shirt with great dignity and threw it back but Shouta dodged and it fell to the floor. A scrabble of claws on the hardwood told him their feline cleaning service was on the case.

“If you can’t see it, I’m not going to explain it to you.”

“Fine.” Shouta groused, knowing they were both too stubborn to give in and it’d turn into a real argument if he pressed Zashi.

“There’s something way more important to talk about anyway.”

“How could there be something more important than kindergarten asking your adult coworker to be your friend?”

“I’m allowed to have more than one important thing at a time.” Zashi replied loftily. Shouta gestured for him to go on with his chopstick. 

“My birthday celebration! Now, I know you said I wasn’t allowed to do karaoke anymore, but-”

“I didn’t say that, the karaoke venue did. You are banned, Zashi.”

“Only banned from that one! They aren’t the only karaoke venue in this city! So, we’ll book under your name so I don’t get flagged and we’ll all wear our civilian attire. It’s foolproof. I want to invite the teacher group, plus Tensei and Tsukauchi, along with whatever plus ones they can scrape up, if any. Speaking of plus ones, did you see that Ringleader got into that recent gala by hanging off Mount Lady’s arm? Apparently she wanted to pay him back for the ‘years of mentorship and guidance’ he’d given her throughout her time at UA. God, that man is such a creep. He had to have blackmailed her or something. I’ll eat twenty kool-aid packets dry if I’m wrong.”

Shouta lovingly listened to his husband ramble as he continued eating, making mental notes of the important bits he’d need to remember. 

It was another pocket day slowly coming to a close. He kept that term to himself, dead certain he’d be teased till he died for it, but there wasn’t any other way he could describe it. 

A day where every moment, every second, is immersed in warmth and light. A day where the jagged edges of the world are softened by a syrupy sweet morning with even sweeter kisses, the afternoon spent lingering in hugs and affectionate touches. 

A day where, once sealed with sleep, can be tucked away in a pocket, waiting for a day that cuts and splinters you from the inside and you can’t see beyond despair. On those days, you can take out the memory, unfold the edges and remember the love in every crease. Remember the light beyond despair.

And that’s how it ended. The laundry put away, the dishes done, the cats fed. Shouta dimmed the lights while Zashi pulled back the covers on the bed and then both of them snuggled in deep, slotting into each other easily, like well worn puzzle pieces. Hizashi’s head was tucked under Shouta’s chin and Shouta held him close under the covers, their legs immediately tangled.  

And in this moment, the darkness that roiled in violence and terror during Shouta’s long night patrols, was purring with contentment, tucking in its claws and curling around them as they all drifted off to sleep. 

…

And then, at 12:01 pm, Shouta’s alarm went off. 

It was the compromise that made up the backbone of the Lazy Sunday™ rules. 

For twenty four hours, from midnight Saturday to midnight Sunday, Shouta and Hizashi were not allowed any contact with anyone or anything outside of themselves. It was a respite amongst the chaos of their lives that centered them back on each other. 

Embarrassingly, it’d taken a couple years into their marriage to realize the increasing number of fights and general annoyance they held for each other was due to their inability to make time for one another. 

With Zashi working three jobs and Shouta working two, one of which had extremely odd hours, they more often than not passed each other on the doorstep. One of them heading in while the other was headed out.

Their extracurricular activity didn’t count since they weren’t technically sharing the same space while they did it.

So Lazy Sunday™ was implemented and they made sure all their friends knew not to disturb them. 

After a few too many times catching the other sneaking glances at their phones to check the news or respond to a message, they took it a step further and implemented a sub-clause. 

Before going to bed on Saturday, they silenced and turned off all alarms on their phones (excluding the All-Call alarm, they wouldn’t ignore their duty as heroes), and gave the other their phone to hide within the perimeter of their home, to be returned Monday morning. 

So now Shouta was waking up Monday morning to start his Sunday night patrol. He groaned and stretched, annoyed at how quickly his muscles stiffened up after sleeping for only a few hours. 

Zashi slept on, curled up in the warmth of blankets and unbothered by the alarm and Shouta’s complaining, his hearing aids scattered on the bedside table.

After giving him a kiss on his forehead, Shouta stumbled to the bathroom where his gear and uniform were folded up. Within moments he was out the door, zipping across rooftops and checking in with the police stations along his route to see if there were any hotspots that needed him. 

It was a clear night. The few stars he could see were twinkling in vain, trying to outshine the glowing, iridescent streets and buildings below. 

The heat of the day lingered, sticking to everything, even stories up where Shouta swooped between buildings. 

He half-heartedly hoped the cloying heat would keep everyone sequestered in air conditioned buildings and off the streets and his night would pass undisturbed, but he doubted it.

They weren’t in the peak of summer yet, when the hottest days blazed and the nights were suffocating, but they were skirting the edge. And uncomfortable weather increased the general annoyance of the public, which in turn, caused mild disturbances to double.

And there was something buzzing in the back of Shouta’s mind he couldn’t place. It wasn’t the loud ringing that heralded a night of blood and desperate violence, where the shadows reeked of malevolence. 

It was more like the pins and needles of an asleep foot, an anticipatory tingle that grated his nerves and made him more jumpy than usual.

For the first few hours, nothing out of the ordinary happened. He stopped a few muggings, chased a wandering, excitable but nervous insomniac kid back home, and stopped by his favorite late night convenience store. They were the only 24 hour one in the area that stocked the best fruit pouch flavor so he made sure to visit when he was on patrol. After stocking up, he took back to the roofs. 

He hadn’t gone far when a commotion drew his attention. Loud jeering and laughter floated out of an alley to his right, nearly eclipsing the sound of a woman’s voice trying to call for help.

Perching atop the edge of the roof and peering down he saw three men had boxed in a woman. She’d been heading home from a late night at the office judging by her attire and tote bag. 

At the moment the men weren’t doing anything beyond being verbally aggressive so he had a second to assess and plan. Two did not have obvious signs of a quirk but the third was a mutant with curled horns jutting back from his forehead and feet like hooves. A ram mutation. Or goat? He couldn’t remember the difference but figured it didn’t matter. He’d just have to watch out for headbutts. 

He’d focus on the other two first, knocking them out before they could respond. The odds of one having a premonition quirk of sorts was low so he could get the drop on them, but-

While he was finalizing his strategy, someone else rushed in. 

He watched in astonishment as a figure sprinted into the alley, pushed the goatman into the man in the middle, snagged the woman's hand and executed an underarm turn that left her spinning out into the alley towards the main road.

“Run!” 

The woman fled, the mystery person gearing to follow when the third man who hadn’t been shoved grabbed them from behind and flung them against the alley wall. The goatman and his friend recovered quickly and rounded on the intruder as well. 

Shouta sighed to the stars while readying his scarf. Stupid do-gooders. The sentiment was sweet, but sweetness did not stop villains. It got in the way.

Shouta looked down, reaffirmed the positioning of everyone, and then dropped.

Middle man was down, knocked out cold by the weight of an adult man landing on him. The second man went down with a punch to his temple and the goatman was bound by his scarf in a matter of seconds. 

He decided to knock him out as well, unsure if the urge to chew on things was a side effect of his mutation or not and unwilling to risk his scarf to those teeth.

He called it into the station as he cuffed them and piled them up against each other. Officers would be here in five minutes. 

The buzzing that’d been following him all night came to a crescendoing zap as he turned to the mystery person and recognized the abhorrently colored, hand knitted sweater. 

“Shirogane?!”

“Yes. Hello Eraserhead.”

What. The fuck.

It took Shouta a moment to buffer. It was like one of those moments where you see your teacher in the grocery store. Or in this case, a dark alley in the middle of the night. A surreal collision of two different worlds. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Your job apparently.”

Shouta’s hackles rose.

“I beg your fucking pardon?”

“Beg all you want but there was someone in danger and I got them out of it.”

“By putting yourself in their place.”

Shirogane shrugged. Annoyance choked Shouta alongside the anger and he bit out his reply.

“Can you fight?”

“I fail to see how that’s relevant.” Shirogane crossed his arms and looked down the alley.

“Can. You. Fight.”

Now he looked at him and they glared at each other, Shirogane’s jaw jutting out. Shouta took that as his answer.

“You can’t fight. So what was your plan after you got the woman away?”

Shirogane didn’t answer.

“What was your plan?” Shouta pressed. “You were dead lucky to get her away and you tried to run but that failed, so now you’re surrounded by three pissed off guys with unknown quirks who each have at least 50 kg on you. What was your plan?”

No response. Shouta felt like murder and stepped forward. “What was your plan, Shirogane?”

“I didn’t have one!” He burst out, hands up between them. “Okay? I didn’t have one.”

“No plan. So you saw someone in trouble and rushed in. I thought you were smart Shirogane.” 

“I am. I just didn’t think. I heard someone call for help and I helped.”

“Oh sure. Because throwing yourself into a dangerous situation you are unequipped for is helping!”

“She got away didn’t she!”

“But you didn’t! If I hadn’t been here those thugs would have beaten the shit out of you! Maybe even killed you!”

“But you were there! So what does it matter?”

“It matters! First rule of being a hero is to live another day so you can fight another day. You don’t go around sacrificing your life to stop a mugging!”

“Good thing I’m not a hero.”

“All the more reason for you to stay out of hero business.” Shouta snapped.

Their chests were centimeters from touching, both of them one breath away from snarling at each other. Shirogane jabbed a finger into his chest.

“I refuse to ignore a call for help. So what am I supposed to do Eraserhead? Heroes won’t always be lurking on rooftops ready to drop down like some kind of avenging angel. So what should I have done?” 

“You call 110. They’ll dispatch a hero or send officers.”

Shirogane’s nose scrunched. Shouta scoffed.

“I don’t give a shit if you don’t like it. You call those whose job it is to take down criminals so they can work without untrained civilians like you getting in their way.”

The moment stretched as Shouta stared Shirogane down, a mean sneer on his face. The shorter man glared back, refusing to budge. 

Shouta was just starting to weigh the risks of physically shaking some sense into Shirogane when he blinked, threw his hands up with a wordless shout and turned away. 

He watched as Shirogane walked to the wall of the alley and kicked it.

“Fine! I’ll call the bloody cops next time I find a group of criminals.” 

“There better not even be a next time.” Shouta groused, stepping back a fraction and shaking himself out of his aggressive stance. “Why are you out so late in the first place? You aren’t playing vigilante are you?” 

Shirogane turned abruptly. “No! Of course not. I was on my way back home from a snack run.” He held up a bag stuffed full of chips and drinks that Shouta hadn’t noticed. 

“A snack run. At three in the morning?” 

“Hunger is not bound to our meaningless assignation of time.”

“...Right.” Shouta ran a hand down his face, suddenly exhausted. “I need you to stick around for the police so they can get a statement, but then you can head home. Sound good?”

Shirogane grimaced but nodded, leaning back against the wall. Shouta turned to look over the thugs, double checking he hadn’t cuffed them too tight or knocked their heads too hard.  

A small rustle caught his attention and he turned back to Shirogane who was shifting through his snacks before pulling out a bag of chips. He opened it up with a pop and immediately started in on them. A few bites in he looked over to Shouta who’d been watching and trying to comprehend the quick turn around in the energy of the night, and offered out the opened bag.

Shouta eyed it for a moment, anger still simmering beneath his skin but the chips looked tempting. 

What the hell, why not.

By the time the officers showed up, they’d finished the bag and the three men were rousing. In less than half an hour they were loaded into the back of the cop car and driven away, leaving the two of them alone in the alley.

For a moment, the only sound was the crunch of plastic as Shirogane folded the empty chip bag and tucked it in with the rest of his snacks. He cleared his throat.

“Thank you.”

In the dark, his eyes seemed black and endless in depth.

Shouta nodded in response. It wasn’t what he really wanted, which was an assurance to never do it again, but he had a feeling the simple thanks was already a concession for Shirogane.

Shirogane nodded back and without another word, started walking away. 

He was nearly consumed by the dark when Shouta had a mental shove that felt suspiciously like Hizashi push him forward.

“Wait!”

Shirogane paused and half turned, face wary as he jogged up. No doubt worried he was about to rekindle their fight. 

“Come to Hizashi’s birthday party.”

His eyes widened in shock. “What?”

“Shit. Sorry,” Shouta ran a hand through his hair. “I know you aren’t interested in being friends with us, and hell, I just yelled at you a lot, but I had to ask. It’d mean a lot to Hizashi for you to come. But you don’t have to.”

Shirogane seemed to be stuck, his eyes wide and mouth slack. 

“Seriously, you don’t have to come. Forget I asked. Get home safe.” Shouta turned to go but was stopped by a hand gripping his elbow before abruptly letting go.

“No, wait! Wait. Give me a moment. I didn’t expect a question like that after all,” he made a vague gesture towards the alley. “All that.” 

Understandable. Shouta wasn’t sure himself what brought on the sudden invite. So he waited patiently as Shirogane took a few breaths, his eyes jumping about Shouta’s face as if trying to find any remnant anger. 

All he’d find at this point was weariness. God he wanted to be back in bed with Zash.

“Okay. I’ll come. But why did you say I wasn’t interested in being friends?”

“You’ve rejected everyone’s offers to socialize after work. Constantly.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize.” The plastic crinkled as he shifted. “Spontaneous plans are difficult for me, I’m very busy. But if I know something is happening ahead of time, I can make it work. I didn’t explain that?” 

“Not once.”

Shirogane seemed to think hard, eyes unfocused, no doubt replaying each interaction to see if Shouta was telling the truth. After a moment he deflated with a soft, despondent oh before rallying himself and looking up at Shouta.

“But Present Mic still wants to be friends?” 

“Yeah.” Shouta smirked. “ He thinks you’re cool.”

“Cool. Me?”

“His words, not mine.”

“...I usually don’t get that adjective. Okay. What kind of party is it? And when?”

“A couple weeks from now, Hizashi likes to get a head start. I’ll text you the details. We’ll be getting drinks with a group of friends and getting kicked out of a karaoke bar. Not sure of anything beyond that.”

“You’re planning on getting kicked out?”

“No, but that’s what will happen. It’s his mission to have his picture hung up in every establishment. Something about a legacy to leave behind.”

Shirogane smiled. “Sounds entertaining. Thank you for inviting me.”

“It’s for Hizashi.” Shouta waved off his thanks before pulling out a fruit pouch and tossing it to Shirogane.

It hit his chest and he fumbled with it for a second before catching it. 

“What’s this?”

“Even trade for the chips. I’ll see you at work.” He tossed out his scarf and yanked, sweeping himself up into the night. Shirogane’s cries of disgust followed after him.

“What the hell is Sour Lime Pineapple Razzleberry? It can’t be an even trade if I can’t even eat it! Eraserhead! Come back here and give me a flavor suitable for human consumption! Eraserhead!”

Shouta just laughed as he disappeared into the dark.

Chapter Text

Hizashi knew he was peculiar, even by hero standards.

Which is a low bar already because let’s face it, no sane person chooses to constantly pit themselves against pissed off, superpowered villains on a daily basis wearing a unitard.

Doesn’t matter the reason- fame, money, the feel good feeling from handing a purse back to an old lady after chasing down the snatcher.

At the end of the day, heroes were constantly fighting. Bleeding.

Dying.

So to fend off the numerous existential crises that hitchhiked in with the measly paycheck, all heroes tended to develop quirks on top of their genetic one.

Nem threw herself into crafts, wielding a hot glue gun with frightening efficiency. Tensei read. Constantly. Like seriously, how was it physically possible to read a novel in a day on top of patrolling?

Snipe had the whole obsession with cowboys going on, Thirteen had an annual pass to every aquarium within at least 100 kilometers, and Vlad King… he probably had something. Maybe. He seemed like the type to go bowling.

Shouta used yoga and their cats as free therapy and together they both had their extracurricular activity to keep them occupied. But just for himself, Hizashi didn’t have anything as concrete as the others did to point too and say-

“This is the tether that keeps me from floating into the abyss of despair.”

His schedule certainly didn’t allow for activities like knitting, or reading, or boat building. (Hizashi wouldn’t have believed that was Gang Orca’s chosen pastime if he hadn’t been given a tour of his workshop. It’d taken an hour for him to pick his jaw off the floor.)

His life was a never ending loop of running from UA to the recording studio. The studio to patrol. Patrol to bed. Bed to UA. Rinse and repeat. Sprinkle in the frequent after work drinks and a Lazy Sunday™ or two, and Hizashi was lucky if he had time to shave in the morning.

So his hobby, the craft he’d honed to stave off the dread, was watching people.

He wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t already predisposed to do so after the childhood he had, but he’d long since perfected the art of it.

During his commutes, or in coffee shops, or even in the grocery store, he’d pick out a person and discreetly study them. Every frayed hem, phone case design, or piece of jewelry offered up hints as to the life of his subject.

If the story he put together seemed interesting enough (and the person seemed friendly enough), he’d approach them and start up a conversation.

Some were duds of course. Well. Most were duds. That is to say, most of them were lovely! They were kind enough to let a strange, enthusiastic man ask them questions about a pin they were wearing or a book they were reading.

And there was always a story. Sometimes it was sweet or joyous, sometimes it was sad.

But rarely was it thrilling. A story that hooked into him deep enough that he’d be willingly pulled to the net. That made him feel like he’d perish if he didn’t get to explore every hidden facet within his subject.

So yeah. Hizashi knew he was more peculiar than most heroes with his obsession with people. It was easily explained away as him being an extrovert but that barely scratched the surface.

It was the puzzle of it. A series of intricate locks within a person, made up of personal history, emotions, and thoughts that brought Hizashi great satisfaction to ply open with words and watch as the gears and inner workings exposed themselves to him.

That fascination with picking people apart was what drew him to Shouta in the first place, way back when they were students at UA. That, and he’d recognized the anger within him. It was a dormant kind of savagery that made classmates and teachers uneasy for reasons they couldn’t explain.

But Hizashi understood. Because he was the same.

Until Shouta had transferred into the hero course after the sports festival, Hizashi had been alone. He’d tried to make friends. God did he try.

But he was a little too loud. A little too mean. Even after folding in little pieces of himself to fit in their boxes, they still steered away from him, wary of what lurked beneath his outgoing, happy charm.

Then a Gen Ed kid transferred in, angry and snarky; he’d made more enemies than Hizashi had by the end of his first day. He’d dismissed everyone and poured blood, sweat, and tears into catching up. To prove he had what it takes to be in the hero course.

Everyone but Hizashi. To be fair, Shouta had tried to dismiss him, brush him off like everyone else but Hizashi was and is a stubborn bastard and wasn’t about to let the first person he found that was like him go without a fight.

And boy, did they fight.

They’d been mean with each other, like two predators pacing a cage, looking for weak spots and jumping for blood the first chance they got. Literally. Shouta had bit him more than once. Their practice sparring matches would reach worrying levels of aggression that scared their classmates and teachers.

But slowly, so slowly they barely noticed, their fist fights turned to rough housing, and then rough housing turned into playful shoving, which then turned into holding hands, and then with barely a conversation about it, they were together.

They created a pack of two, ready to face anything.

Which was great for them but not for their classmates. Their energy, once focused on tormenting each other, turned outwards and after a few too many fights that left them with broken noses and glaring at the floor before Principal Nedzu, he’d taken them under his wing and taught them the importance of discretion.

As an animal on the outside and the inside and intelligence greater than most humans, he had understood them in a way no other guardian ever had.

So he trained them. Trained them how to harness their inner animals, as he called it, strengthening their bond with it to be better heroes and humans, and how to keep it under control.

Over the years they’d both gotten better at dialing it back, covering it with layers of social etiquette and politeness. And slowly, they’d made other friends. Their pack grew. Nemuri and Oboro first, with their younger sibling vivacity and unending energy. And then Tensei and Naomasa soon after, the sensible, even tempered pseudo brothers.

At first, they’d tried to keep it secret from their pack, unsure of their reaction to the darkness that hid beneath their skin. But they had chosen their family because they were intuitive and clever so of course they had figured it out, whether it was by Hizashi’s temper or Shouta’s overprotectiveness, or a bit of both.

And they accepted it. Even after Oboros death and their protectiveness and anger reached near catastrophic heights, they patiently held them close and kept them sane until they could settle once again.

They were content with their family. And Hizashi hadn’t been interested in adding anyone new to their pack for years. He used his people watching (mild stalking if you asked Sho) to fill out his guest spots on his radio show and to entertain his pacing inner animal.

And then with no lead in or fanfare, someone just like them walked into their lives. Hizashi’s inner animal howled in delight at finding another while Shouta looked like his was trying to rapidly decide between fight or flight.

All over a soft spoken, fantastic fashion sensed individual who’d come to UA to teach law.

It was the same preternatural sense that had roused within him when Shouta had smacked into his life.

Which was why he was trying so damn hard to be his friend! Didn’t he know they were destined to be a family? To be a pack? Why was he resisting? Hizashi would have to plan out their next interaction in excruciating detail, making sure he’d say all the right things to ensure an acceptance to after work drinks. Maybe he should ask about his sweaters? That seemed a good place to start-

“Shirogane’s coming to your birthday party.”

Hizashi abruptly stopped stabbing his omelet and looked up at Shouta.

“What?”

He didn’t respond right away, taking a long sip of his steaming black coffee, staring at the crime scene on Hizashi’s plate with a raised brow. Hizashi put his fork down gently and nudged his plate to the side.

“I ran into Shirogane on patrol and we talked. I asked him to come to your birthday party and he said he’d love to.”

“...I have so many questions. Your patrol started after midnight, how could you possibly have run into him? Please tell me you didn’t just show up at his house, I told you to stop doing that to people. Oh my god, that’d be so embarrassing, please tell me you didn’t do that. Why would you ask him to come to my birthday party?! We’ve barely spoken beyond office small talk! He must think I’m a desperate loser now!”

Hizashi finished in a wail, flopping his head down on the table, arms extended towards his husband.

A small clink sounded near his head and then a warm hand started running through his hair, the strands catching occasionally on calluses.

“I did not show up at his house. He was walking home, overheard a woman being harassed and stepped in to help not knowing I was there. We talked while waiting for the police and a bit after. I asked, he said yes. He’s a busy person so spontaneous plans don’t work for him. That’s why he’s turned down the after work invites.”

Hizashi shifted so his cheek was pressed to the table instead of his forehead. He stared up at Shouta.

“You. The antisocial, people-aren’t-worth-my-time, you. Asked a practical stranger to come to my birthday party and he said yes? Just like that?”

He shrugged.

“Cheaper than a BFF pizza slice necklace.”

Hizashi groaned into the table, purposefully slipping in a bit of his quirk. Their plates and silverware rattled dangerously but he cut off with a small yelp when the hand in his hair clenched tight.

“None of that. You wanted to be friends with him, he wants to be friends with you. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Becaaause Sho!”

The hand gently shook.

“Not good enough. Tell me why you’re upset.”

Fine. Hizashi ignored the flare of interest in his gut from the hand fisted in his hair and sifted through his thoughts. While embarrassment licked up his throat, it wasn’t the true reason for his distress.

“I wanted to be the one he said yes to.”

And that was the crux of it. Shirogane had turned down everyone at some point, but Hizashi had been the one to ask most often. And Shirogane hadn’t been rude or completely dismissive of the idea of hanging out so Hizashi was certain it would just take the right words or phrases to get a yes out of him.

But then Shouta, the consummate introvert whose only interest in Shirogane was to determine if he was a threat or not, asked once and got a yes.

It was a blow to Hizashi’s pride.

Shouta’s hand turned soft and he started combing through his hair again.

“Thank you for telling me. I acted in what I thought was your best interest without asking you first. I’m sorry.”

The anger melted and Hizashi tipped his head into Shouta’s hand, instantly forgiving him. Life as a hero was too precarious to hold onto grudges with your loved one.

“Now finish your massacred breakfast. We’ve got work.”

Hizashi grumbled but complied. Shouta fed the cats while he finished and then they both headed out.

Their commute was short but usually gave Hizashi plenty of time to find a subject for his musings. Today he was too preoccupied readjusting his birthday plans to account for another guest.

And by that he meant imagining every interaction he and his friends would have and how Shirogane was going to fit into it.

Luckily Sho was too busy napping on Hizashi’s shoulder to ask what he was thinking about. He couldn’t lie to him and there were some thoughts of Hizashi’s that his husband didn’t need to know.

As usual, they got to UA before the other teachers. They liked to work together in the silence before everyone arrived, bringing noise and interruptions.

At 7:45 am exactly, Shirogane walked in. It was the same time everyday. Hizashi was equal parts impressed and intrigued. He wondered if there were days Shirogane loitered out in the hall to ensure he walked through the door at exactly the right time.

Their interactions never varied much either. Polite ‘good mornings’ and the occasional remark on the weather before they all focused back on grading or class prep, sitting together in comfortable silence until the rest of the teachers started trickling in around 8.

This morning Shirogane stepped through the door, zeroed in on Shouta, and chucked something straight at his head. It hit him square in the forehead and dropped to his desk.

A crumpled fruit pouch. One of Shouta’s favorite flavors.

“That thing is vile. An affront to tastebuds everywhere and I’ve eaten insects. I will never forgive you for inflicting that horror on me.” He seethed.

Shouta looked up. “You ate it though.”

“I don’t waste food.” Was the huffed response and then Shirogane was standing next to Hizashi, who was busy processing the fact that his husband had shared his fruit pouches? Goddamnit, he knew there had to be more to that story! That man could make an All Might fight sound like a simple misunderstanding. He’d have to wring the full story out of him later.

“Good morning Present Mic. I wanted to apologize for not explaining why I kept turning down the chance to socialize. I cannot easily shift my schedule for spur of the moment invites, however if I am given sufficient time, I can attend. I am very excited to be a guest at your birthday party. I uh- I also think you are cool.”

Hizashi’s head whipped back to Shouta and he glared daggers, silently but viciously promising a month of sleeping on the couch and salted coffee for longer. Shouta didn’t look at him, just smirked down at his paperwork, unrepentant. Hizashi revoked his forgiveness from earlier.

“Is that- I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?”

Revenge would have to wait. He turned back to Shirogane, all smiles and reassurance.

“No! No, no, not uncomfortable, I think you are cool too! Which you already know because someone I told that to in confidence betrayed my trust and decided to blab.”

“Could have been pizza slices.” Shouta said, still not bothering to look up.

“I will actually murder you.”

“Pizza… slices?” Shirogane was looking between the two of them, fidgeting with his pinky ring.

“Ah! Don’t mind him.” Hizashi flapped his hands. “I’d be glad to have you at my party!”

“A party?”

Hizashi winced at the voice. Ringleader had such shit timing. Since when did he get to work early? He sauntered over, his ostentatious blue costume an affront to the eyes this early in the morning.

“With Yamada? Come one Neyan, I’ve given you way better offers. You’ll hurt my feelings if you go to a party with Yamada but won’t have drinks with me.”

He stopped well within Shirogane’s personal space, leering over him. The height difference would have forced Shirogane to tilt his head at an awkward angle to look at him, if he had deigned to do so in the first place. He’d instead kept a steady gaze on Hizashi.

“Thank you again for the invite, Present Mic. Maybe sometime we can get drinks too?”

Ringleader spluttered, his mustache quivering as Hizashi grinned.

“Absolutely! I know a place that makes the wildest cocktails. I’m talking setting the drinks on fire and off the wall flavor combos kind of stuff.”

“Sounds wonderful. Text me the details and we’ll set a date.”

“Excuse me! I’m talking to you!”

“You’re excused.” Hizashi and Shirogane chorused in tandem. Shouta snorted at his desk.

“Don’t get smart with me!” Ringleader rounded on Shirogane. “I am your senior! I will not tolerate this blatant disrespect. Don’t you walk away from me!”

Shirogane was already rounding the line of desks and heading to his own beside Shouta. Ringleader followed, his longer gait letting him catch up and he snatched Shirogane’s wrist and yanked him back.

Hizashi was out of his seat in an instant.

“Ringleader! Back off!” He barked, desperately wishing to blast him with his voice but Shirogane was too close, he’d get hit too.

Shouta had jumped up too, his hand in his capture scarf and hair rising as he activated his quirk.

Someone gasped from the door, but Hizashi kept his eyes on the two men in front of him.

Before anyone could decide to act, a resounding slap rang through the air.

Ringleader stumbled back from Shirogane whose face looked murderous.

“Never touch me again. Never. You do and I will break your wrist. You try again after that and I’ll take your hand.” He hissed, nearly spitting in rage.

Hizashi was entranced. Shirogane’s usually kind and placid demeanor was transformed, every inch now radiating threat. His teeth were bared in a snarl, glasses slightly askew but eyes locked in on Ringleader, his hands fisted at his side.

He was pure fury enveloped in a puffy hot pink sweater and Hizashi had never been more attracted to anyone. Outside of his husband that is.

Good lord, his therapist was going to need a raise.

Ringleader recovered and sneered back, stupidly unaware of the danger he was in.

“Are you threatening me? I could get you arrested for assault on a hero, you runt. In fact, let’s go see what Nedzu has to say about this.”

He dropped a heavy hand on Shirogane's shoulder, no doubt trying to drag him out of the room but in a blur of movement there was a resounding snap and he was on the floor howling in pain, Shirogane standing over him.

“I warned you.” He spat. “And my name is Shirogane to you. How dare you act so familiar.”

With that, his foot twitched in what Hizashi thought might’ve been an attempt at kicking the downed hero but he stepped back instead and went to his desk. Without another word, he sat down and started taking papers out of his bag, ignoring everyone staring at him and the wailing still going on from the floor.

“Nice form! Good execution.” Hizashi applauded before sitting back down himself. Shirogane sent him a small smile as Shouta sat down slowly beside him, looking like he was reevaluating a few things.

“Well that was an exciting way to start the day.” Nem mused as she finally stepped away from the door towards her own seat. She’d been the one to gasp Hizashi surmised. Snipe followed after, barely glancing at Ringleader before heading to the kitchenette and started a pot of coffee.

A few seconds later, Ectoplasm stepped through, stopping short when he noticed Ringleader.

“Eraserhead, what did you do now?” He sighed, sending a clone of himself over to help the man up.

“Wasn’t me this time.” Shouta grumbled, sounding put out.

“You expect me to believe that? You’re always antagonizing each other.”

“It really wasn’t him, Ecto.” Nem piped up.

“It was that bitch!” Ringleader was standing, cuddling his wrist to his chest like a toddler with his teddy bear, a red handprint starting to form on his cheek. He was glaring at Shirogane who’d taken a page from Shouta’s book and kept his eyes on his paperwork, idly twirling his glittery pink pen.

Ectoplasm eyed Shirogane and then looked at Ringleader with slight concern.

“Does he have a concussion too? What exactly did I miss?”

His clone started shepherding Ringleader towards the door.

“Just Shirogane giving a thorough demonstration of actions and their consequences! It was quite the lesson. Though, I think I blinked and missed a bit in the middle. Could you go over it again?” Hizashi queried, gesturing towards Ringleader while throwing a wink at Shirogane.

“No repeat performances unless strictly necessary I’m afraid.” He replied primly.

“Shirogane? Really?”

Before he could answer Ectoplasm, the speaker system beeped to life.

“Shirogane, my office please.” Nedzu said.

“Ha! Hope you like being fired!” Ringleader crowed. He continued yelling as he was dragged out by Ectoplasm's clone and his voice echoed in the hallways. “My lawyers are going to tear you to shreds! You’ll never be able to teach anywhere in Japan ever again! Just you wait!”

“I don’t think the meeting with Nedzu is going to go the way he thinks it will.” Hizashi remarked drily as Shirogane stood up to leave. He got to his feet too. “I’ll walk with you, if that’s alright?”

Shirogane nodded and they dallied just long enough that Ringleader was out of sight by the time they reached the hallway.

Hizashi tucked his hands in his pockets and started meandering towards Nedzu’s office. It wasn’t that far away from the teachers room and he wanted to make every second count.

“You just lived out everyone’s dream doing that.”

“I realize you deserved that honor more than me.” Shirogane sneaked a glance his way and grinned. “But it did feel good.”

Hizashi shrugged.

“As long as someone carries out justice, does it matter who does it?”

“Maybe not. But if someone needs the catharsis of carrying it out themselves, it seems cruel to deny them.”

“Well as long as Ringleader’s an ass I’m sure I’ll get another chance.”

“Pretty good odds then.”

“I do like my chances.” Hizashi nodded cheerfully.

“It seems Eraserhead has a history with him?” Shirogane asked, fiddling with his pinky ring again.

“Nothing crazy.” Hizashi reassured him. “He’s tied him up with his capture scarf a few times when he wouldn’t shut up, but it’s been small petty revenges for the most part. Like changing the language on his computer or putting his snacks on the top shelf. He can’t get away with much else or the Commission will step in. But you’ll be fine though! RG will fix him right up! Nedzu won’t let them do anything to you.”

Shirogane hummed, looking deep in thought but not overly worried.

“Eraserhead said you’ve been harassed by Ringleader?”

“He told you about that? It’s nothing crazy, Ringleader is just persistent. He hasn’t been as bad this year.”

“It was enough that Eraserhead noticed.” He pointed out.

“He’s overprotective. He’d fight with the coffee machine if it burned me.”

“You two do seem close.” Shirogane said. He stopped and looked out a window at the kids sleepily walking onto campus.

Hizashi watched Shirogane. He was calm once again, his glasses pushed high on his aquiline nose. His dark hair was in another intricate braid, trailing down to the middle of his back, standing out against the bright sweater that hung loose on his short frame.

If he wanted to be friends with him, Hizashi should probably tell him that he was married to Shouta. It felt important he did but they had never told anyone before. He didn’t know how. Everyone they cared about already knew and no one else was ever allowed to know.

While wrestling with that conundrum, Shirogane turned towards him, brown eyes intense.

“Tell me then. Everything that he’s done to you. Every wandering hand, every weird remark. If he did that to Eraserhead, what would you-”

Hizashi was snarling before Shirogane could finish his sentence, his voice vicious and laced with his quirk.

“I’d bury him.”

The windows rattled. It took him a breath to realize that that was too strong of a reaction. The kind of thing that made kids run away in high school. That made the teachers and adults wary of him. He stepped back, trying to mentally prepare to see the usual trepidation that came with exposing too much of himself.

But Shirogane just looked smug.

“That’s what I thought.”

He continued on down the hall and Hizashi hurried after him.

“Wait a second, that’s completely different.”

“How so?”

“I get hit on all the time but Shouta gives off a general ‘Don’t Fuck With Me’ attitude. If someone bypasses that to flirt with him they actually mean it whereas with me, it’s just a standard response.”

Shirogane stopped walking again to stare at him. His eyes really were a beautiful brown. They almost seemed to be outlined in a glowing silver in the right light which Hizashi didn’t understand but thought was really cool. Maybe he wore contacts?

“Wow. Did you really use the fact that you’re pretty to absolve Ringleader of blame?”

“You think I’m pretty?”

Shirogane waved his question away.

“That is not news, there are whole forums dedicated to thirst traps of you. Focus. You could be Aphrodite embodied and you would still not deserve to be bothered like that everyday.”

“Quite the reference. You know not many people know about pre-quirk pantheons? It’s like humanity gaining god-like powers made them all obsolete.”

Shirogane was glaring at him. Silver glinted in his eyes before he shut them and took several deep breaths. When he opened them they were all brown again.

“Present Mic. We’ll finish this conversation later when I’m not about to be scolded by my boss. And trust me. Deflection won’t work next time.”

“Nah, you won’t be scolded. I bet Nedzu will give you a bouquet!” Hizashi deflected just for fun. The glare he got in return was delightful.

Shirogane turned and marched away, disappearing beyond the double doors to Nedzu’s office and letting them slam nice and loud behind him.

Hizashi chuckled to himself and wandered back to the teachers room, whistling happily.

His new friend watched thirst traps of him and had snapped the wrist of the man he hated most.

Life was good.

Chapter Text

Shirogane did not get in trouble of course. He wouldn’t say what he and Nedzu had discussed, but he was back at his desk before Ringleader had returned from Recovery Girl. 

When he did, he could do little more than scowl at Shirogane before the school day started.

Hizashi would’ve been more worried for Shirogane’s safety if he thought Ringleader had the thought capacity to be underhandedly malicious. As it was, anything retaliatory would be overt and Shirogane had already made the consequences of that clear.

It also helped that the one time Shirogane looked in his general direction, Ringleader had flinched so hard his coffee slopped out of his mug all over his papers and uniform.

But even if he had wanted to try something, the next few days were horrendously busy for them all.  Final exam fervor was consuming the students and teachers alike. There was a non stop flow of kids knocking on the teachers door looking for tutor help and endless review sessions to plan.

To most all the teachers' delight, amidst the general panic and long days, Shirogane was making a point to be friendly.

In the mornings he would join Snipe at the coffee machine and ask him about the newest western that was hitting the silver screen or about which gun ranges he liked to frequent. 

Instead of eating at his desk hunched over papers, he’d sit with Nemuri in the kitchenette, talking about anything that struck their fancy. One day it was about which shade of purple complimented pink better (Iris obviously) and another day it was homelessness and its root causes.

He divulged his findings over dinner to an unimpressed crowd. 

“It’s not stalking Sho! I cannot be blamed for the fact that my hearing aids can pick up a mouse or that I had to figure out how to read lips when I was young. And besides, if they're talking in a public place, they should expect to be overheard.”

“Sure, when you’re being nosy your hearing aids can pick up a mouse but when I ask you to clean your hair out of the shower drain they’re out of batteries or dying.”

“I’m sorry, did you say something? I was just about to tell you about him and Vlad Kings conversation which involves what certainly sounded like a date with Hound Dog. But if you’d rather talk about my very delicate and sensitive disability aid, I’d love to hear your thoughts.”

“No, no, please continue.”

It had taken a few days before Shirogane had approached them. So far, their dynamic hadn’t changed much, all three of them unwilling to break the sanctity of their calm mornings in the teachers room.

But one day they had all stayed late to help students with their frantic questions and as they were packing up, Shirogane approached Hizashi and hesitantly asked if he could walk with them to the school gate. 

“Yeeeeaaaah!” Hizashi yelled, overeager and excited for his turn to get to know him.

Shirogane blinked at his excitement and Shouta rolled his eyes, but Hizashi couldn’t care less. One step closer to acquiring a new friend. A new pack member.

“These late nights aren’t messing with your schedule too much I hope.”

The three of them walked through the empty halls with Hizashi bounding ahead to walk backwards and face the other two. Sho would let him know if he was going to run into anything. 

“That’s kind of you to ask. Principal Nedzu warned me in advance that this would happen so I’ve planned accordingly.”

“Oh right, his patented ‘Welcome to UA’ speech! We’ve all had it. Did he break out the powerpoint or just stare into your soul while stirring his tea? Shouta says he has a method to choose who gets which version, kind of like a fucked up personality test? But I think it’s arbitrary. Sho and I both got the powerpoint, but Nem and Vlad got the stare. Everyone else won’t say.” Hizashi pouted.

“Ah, I do remember a powerpoint.”

“Alright! Another member of the powerpoint club! We’ll meet every morning at 7:45, drink coffee, and talk shit about the other teachers.” Hizashi said grandly, throwing his arms out wide.

“So what we already do every morning?” Shouta intoned, shuffling along with his hands in his pockets. 

“No, no, no, that was before we knew we were all powerpoints! Now we can do it even better!”

“What does that even mean.”

“I don’t know because you haven’t told me the super secret method by which Nedzu chooses who gets the powerpoint and who gets the stare!”

Shouta shrugged. 

“Ugh! What do you think Shirogane? Why would us three get a powerpoint version of what is essentially a gentle threat of unspeakable violence should we harm the kids or besmirch UA in any way while others get the same talk sans powerpoint?”

Shirogane looked off to the side for a few steps before he turned back.

“Principal Nedzu knew he couldn’t intimidate you with a stare down?”

“As cute as it is you think we can’t be intimidated by Nedzu, you are very wrong. Shouta almost passed out once after Nedzu stared him down for a measly five minutes.”

“I was fifteen! You were there too and you cried.”

“I’m not ashamed to admit that. It’s smart to be respectful of Nedzu but it’s mandatory to be afraid of him.”

“And yet you forget he has cameras in every hallway.”

“Ah shit! I mean- shoot! Sorry Nedzu! Your powerpoints are always a work of art and very enthralling! I’m sure you don’t mean anything by giving them to only a select few!”

The silence was perhaps more frightening than any response.

“Has he always had cameras?” Shirogane asked, peering into the corners where they were nestled like little black globs of watchful eyes.

“Just in the hallways. Laws about privacy and whatnot keep them out of the classrooms but you’d know more about that than us.”

“But for how long?” Shirogane pressed, weirdly insistent. “Is this a recent installment or has he had cameras for a while?”

“They were here when we were students. So a while.” Shouta responded, watching Shirogane out of the corner of his eye.

“Why the curiosity about cameras?”

Shirogane took a moment to answer, lingering on a camera winking at them.

“Hm… What? Oh. No reason.”

“Okaaaaaay.” Hizashi drawled, sharing a look with Shouta. Should he press? It didn’t seem like nothing but he also didn’t want to make him feel like he was being interrogated-

“Ack!” He whacked his head and back on a shut door. Doubling over, he clutched his hair and groaned. “Shooooouta, you were supposed to warn me before I hit something!”

“You chose to walk backwards.”

“Because I thought you cared about me!”

“What does that have to do with this?”

“Et tu, Brute? Now I know how Caesar felt! The betrayal! I can never trust you again!”

“Last I checked you teach English, not Drama.” 

The rest of the walk was them playfully bickering while Shirogane watched in bemusement, the cameras forgotten.

It became routine and one of Hizashi’s favorite times of day. Even if the walk was aggravatingly short. And even if sometimes he couldn’t walk with them, having to dash out early for the studio or patrol. 

Still! He was slowly learning more about him! But it was so slow! Granted, it might go faster if Hizashi could pin him down and interrogate him like he wanted, but Nedzu’s teachings rang through his head every time he had the urge. 

So he bit his cheek till it bled whenever it felt like he was going to go too far and patiently waited for his chance to needle his way under his skin the way he wanted to.

Shouta on the other hand, had no qualms about getting under Shirogane’s skin.

“I will knock you out cold with your frying pan is what I’m going to do. I cannot believe- what do you mean you scramble them in the pan?!”

Shouta shrugged. “Less dishes to wash.”

It was another day all three of them were able to walk together, the summer sun almost buzzing in the air around them. Hizashi was sweating under his leather jacket and Shouta was suffering in his jumpsuit but Shirogane looked to be unphased in his maroon cable knit sweater and pants. Though he was getting heated in a different way.

“How do you add things to the mixture then? Milk, spices, that sort of thing?” 

“I don’t.”

“But what about potential shells? You can’t pick them out of a hot pan!”

“The crunchy bits are the best part of an omlet.”

Judging by the thundercloud on his brow, Shirogane was a breath away from attempting to strangle Shouta with his own scarf so Hizashi begrudgingly stepped in. Homicide on UA property was frowned upon as per slide 16 of the powerpoint.

“Hey, hey, hey! Reel it back, he’s just teasing you Shirogane.”

Angry brown eyes switched to him. “Oh sure! Take his side! This is serious, eating good food is one of the few joys of living and this- this- this heathen!”

“Flatterer.”

“This heathen not only enjoys flavors made from chemical waste, but scrambles his eggs in. The. Pan! When making an omelet!”

“You’ll have to make breakfast for us one of these days, show us how it’s done.” It was out of his mouth before he realized the potential insinuation. Shouta cut him a glance over Shirogane’s head but didn’t comment. Shirogane for his part was too worked up to notice. 

“I will! Especially if it’ll stop this one from making a mockery of the art of cooking.”

“It’s just food.”

“Just food!” Shirogane yelled, flinging his hands to the sky. 

They had just reached the gate but Shouta and Shirogane were too busy pissing each other off to notice and Hizashi was enjoying himself too much to stop them completely. 

Shirogane whirled on Shouta, finger already poised to jab at him when something caught his eye down the street and he stopped abruptly, anger dropping from him and being replaced by an intense focus. 

He dropped his hand and nodded his head instead, his gaze still locked on something down the street.

“Thank you for walking with me, I will see you tomorrow morning.” 

And with that, he shot past them. Hizashi wouldn’t have been surprised to see a dust cloud left behind.

Turning to look, he saw Shirogane dodging cars and heading towards a small crowd a half a block away.

Towering over the mass of cheering people was Mount Lady. She must have been on patrol but stopped to talk to her fans. Papers and pens were being waved about like mini flags and she was slowly shrinking herself to shake hands and take pictures. 

Shirogane dove into the throng and was immediately swallowed up.

“I guess blondes are his type.”

“Ha!” Hizashi scoffed, turning away and marching off. “She’s not even a real blonde! She dyes her hair and everyone knows it.”

“Doesn’t seem to matter to him.”

“Fuck off or I’ll tell Shirogane you eat pasta dry.”

“I’m not ashamed of my eating habits.” Shouta said, but he stopped teasing and they walked in silence until they separated, Hizashi to the studio and Shouta to home. 

“Have a good show Zash.”

“Always do!”

And with that, they parted, with no kiss or even a hug. Sometimes being a hero sucked ass. Hizashi could’ve really used a patented Shouta Hug where he squeezes every thought and feeling out with the pressure of a hydraulic press. 

But Hizashi was Present Mic. And Present Mic had best friends but he didn’t have a romantic partner. And neither did Eraserhead. They were just two dudes being guys. 

Being in a relationship with Present Mic came as a packaged deal with the press. It required keeping your head on a swivel for any lurking camera and sudden photo ops with fans. That much publicity would do irreparable damage to Eraserheads ability to be a covert, underground hero.

Being in a relationship with Eraserhead meant his shady, underground enemies become your enemies and you have to keep your head on a swivel to see the knives coming for you in the dark. And nothing made for an easier target than a limelight hero like Present Mic. 

It was fine. Well, it wasn’t, but there was no universe where Hizashi and Shouta weren’t together and in this one, they had to keep their love behind closed doors, so that’s what they did.

Luckily, Hizashi had other ways to take his mind off fake blondes and handknit sweaters. He smiled wide as he walked into his studio, greeting everyone loudly and receiving much fanfare in return. 

The bad headspace he’d been in for blocks got unceremoniously dumped on the doorstep. 

He was home. 

Second home technically. The flat he owned with Shouta was and would always be his home. It was filled with mementos and memories of them and their life together.

But this home? This was all Hizashi.

From the bright yellow walls peeking out from behind crooked, overlapping band posters, to the snorting laughter of his two gossipy assistants and the gentle chiding of his manager. The smell of warm coffee, the hum of computers, and the faded and scratched leather of his chair. Here he can be the best and brightest parts of himself.

Shouta calls it a mask, the Present Mic persona he puts on with his directional speaker and gelled up hair. 

And sure, some days it feels like it is. The days when his smile feels like it’ll break and his voice will crack. 

But Hizashi is always Present Mic, just as Present Mic is always Hizashi. 

He doesn’t take off his joy and enthusiasm and hang it on the hook like he does his jacket and speaker. They are always a part of him. As is his intelligence and anger and grief. 

He just chooses who gets to see what parts of him. 

Present Mic is what he lets everyone see. Through him, he can pour out his love for life, music, and people to the world without reservation.

“Live in 10.” 

Settled into his chair after reviewing notes with his manager, Hizashi tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and took in three deep breaths. His pulse thrummed in his veins. 

“Live in 5.” His board operator cued. 

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“Heeeeeeeello to everyone out there enjoying this beautiful afternoon and welcome back to Put Your Hands Up Radio here on Hero FM! We have a jammed packed show for you tonight so stay tuned and rock out with us! We’re gunna start off with some pre-quirk classics just to warm you all up before we move back into this century with the pop hits of today! 

And then, dear listeners, do I have a treat for you! Tonight at seven we’ll be playing you a half hour sneak peek of my exclusive interview with Professor Tsukishima Nanase, best known for his pre-quirk literature restoration program and less known for his love of ping pong? It’s true! This interview was so fun, lovely listeners, so stick around to hear two nerds talk about their favorite books and me fail at an impromptu desk ping pong competition! The full interview can be found on our website or in our latest episode on the Put Your Hands Up Podcast, available on any streaming platform. 

Love you all, my listeners, and remember that you are alive and there is nothing more miraculous than that. So keep your heads up! And put your hands up for Black Coffee by Nightly!”

The music flowed in and the tone of the evening was set. With thousands of people listening in, Hizashi laughed and talked and listened and danced. 

These were the moments that kept him a hero. When, for the space of a few bars, the hum of a lyric or two, it feels like the whole world is connected. Civilian, hero, or villain, all joined together to listen to music.

When they wrapped up later that evening, Hizashi had practically forgotten what had made him so grumpy earlier. Especially when he snuggled into a sleepy Shouta who’d had the night off from patrol and had the bed warm and waiting for him.

It was only the next morning, when he saw Shirogane cornered by Ringleader in the hallway, that he remembered. 

Right. Fake blondes. 

And fucking Ringleader. Why was he suddenly showing up to work so early all the time? 

He wasn’t touching Shirogane, but he’d managed to get him into a corner and block him from leaving as he towered over him.

“Ringleader!” Hizashi called, striding up to them quickly. Ringleader stepped back with a toothy smile.

“Good morning Present Mic. You should really ditch that jacket with this heat. It’d give you a chance to really show off your assets.” His gaze raked over him and Hizashi suppressed a shudder. 

“And you should keep your opinions to yourself. What’s going on?” 

“Just having a friendly chat with Shirogane. Nothing you need to worry your pretty head over.”

“Friendly chats don’t usually involve cornering the person and not letting them leave.” Hizashi sneered.

Ringleader raised his hands and gave what he probably thought was a disarming smile. 

“I never stopped him from leaving. Like I said, just a conversation between coworkers so I’m not sure why you’re getting all upset with me. It’s not like you guys are friends.”

Talk about projecting. But it stung more than he thought it would. Shirogane stepped forward before he could fire back a retort.

“To ‘chat’ or have a ‘conversation’ means both parties take turns talking to exchange information. At best that was a monologue. Though one could argue it was a soliloquy since I was not present mentally, only physically. What do you think, Yamada?” 

Hizashi shoved his anger aside and turned his attention to Shirogane. He made a show of twirling one end of his mustache as he looked to the ceiling in thought, other hand on his hip. 

“I’d have to go with monologue.”

“Your reasoning?”

“Well a soliloquy is when someone expresses their thoughts out loud, right?”

“Per standard definition, yes.”

“Then the underlying prerequisite for a soliloquy is that the person speaking must be capable of independent thought. Ergo, monologue.”

“A well thought out argument. I concede the point.”

“Real cute you two.” Ringleader scowled. “But one of these days, you’re going to really upset someone with your little ignoring the other person charade. And when that happens, I won’t save you. Shirogane, remember what I said.”

They watched him stomp off, the few students who’d arrived early quickly parting around him. 

“Did he- did he just threaten us?” Hizashi asked genuinely.

“I believe he thinks he did. The real question is, do you think he understood you basically called him brainless?”

“Oh no, he definitely did not.” 

“Hm.”

They watched more kids file in before they glanced at each other and immediately burst out laughing, startling a few of the students meandering to their classrooms.

“Thank you for stepping in.” Shirogane said after the worst of the chuckles slowed to a stop.

Hizashi flapped a hand while wiping away a tear. 

“My pleasure. Oh, that made my morning. What was he trying to talk to you about anyway?”

“Who knows. I can’t imagine it was important.”

The hall slowly got busier and a few kids greeted them politely while Hizashi replayed the interaction in his head with delight before jerking back and spinning to Shirogane.

“Wait, did you call me Yamada?”

Shirogane looked puzzled before paling.

“Ah! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be so familiar! I just got so irritated when he said we weren’t friends that it just slipped out. Please forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive! It just took me by surprise. I’d be more than happy if you called me Yamada!”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be presumptuous.”

“Nah, we’re friends, you said so yourself. And besides, it’s not like you have a hero name right? Seems unfair I get to call you Shirogane and you can’t call me Yamada.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I always am.”

Shirogane chuckled and bid him farewell, heading to his class. He was around the corner and out of sight before Hizashi remembered his weird sprint to Mount Lady from yesterday. Oh well. Maybe he just liked to collect hero signatures or something.

Even though he’d never asked for any of theirs. 

Eh, it probably wasn’t important. And Hizashi was feeling more magnanimous about it all of a sudden. He walked to his class with a skip. His patience was paying off! Nedzu would be so proud.

Chapter Text

Hizashi was tipsy. Borderline drunk. The perfect sweet spot for a night out with his friends and pack.

“Another round for the birthday boy!” Nemuri shouted, jumping up from her seat and bolting towards the bar. Well, trying to bolt. It was more of a staggering run than anything, with her being on the drunker side of things. 

“Don’t forget fried chicken!” Tensei hollered after her. She gave a wave back without looking. 

“She’s going to forget it, isn’t she?” He sighed. A chorus of agreement came from around the table and Vlad King patted his back in commiseration.

“How’d the term end for everyone?” Naomasa asked, sipping at his water. He had a shift later and refused to have even a drop of alcohol like the good detective he was.

They had all, barring Tensei and Naomasa, just finished exam week. All the kiddos were on summer break but as teachers, they had another week to wrap up grading and preparing for the next semester.

“Great! My little listeners are so fun this year! They’re really catching on quick. And the older students didn’t forget everything I taught them the year before!” Hizashi preened, grinning wide.

Snipe threw back a shot, unimpeded by his mask which had been left at home along with his hero outfit. They were all civilians tonight.

“The third years are amped up, all ready to graduate. Been hard to wrangle them in honestly.” 

“We talking about the kids?” Nemuri popped back in. “Mine are awful! They ask the same questions all the time- ‘How’s art supposed to help us be a hero?’ and ‘What’s a painting got to do with saving people?’ Ugh! Like please appreciate the societal impact art has on the masses! It’ll be important to your branding!”

Nods all around. They’d heard her speech many times before. 

“Where’s the drinks, Nem?” Snipe asked. 

“And the fried chicken!”

“The servers are bringing it over, calm down! You think I can carry all that while tipsy?”

“You’re not tipsy Nem-”

“You’re drunk.” 

“Ha! You think a drunk person could do this?”

Naomasa grappled her back to the table before she could complete what was no doubt going to be a disaster of a cartwheel.

“Shirogane!” He called out, desperate to change the conversation as he stuffed her into the booth and blocked her from coming out again by sitting at the end. “You teach law, right? How’s that going?”

Shirogane blinked, seemingly not prepared to be asked a question directly. He was squeezed in between Tensei and Shouta across the table, though they both gave him a healthy amount of space considering the close quarters they were all in.

“It’s going well. The students have been well behaved and do well on all their tests.”

“I heard you do mock trials with them?” Snipe asked, leaning both elbows on the table as he peered over at Shirogane. 

“Yes. On paper law is very dry but it becomes more entertaining and digestible for them when presented through reenactments.”

“Reenactments?” Hizashi questioned, leaning forward in his seat as well. He tried getting his kids to read out sections of a book but it was like pulling teeth most days. He couldn’t imagine getting them to do a courtroom scene.

Shirogane nodded.

“Everyone is given a role and-”

Drinks arrived, sans fried chicken, and Shirogane paused while they were handed out, accepting his glass of mead and passing on Shouta’s glass of whiskey. Old men, the both of them . Hizashi sipped his bright, fruity concoction with delight. But still, not a bad view at all .

Sho was driving him to distraction with his black button up with the sleeves rolled past his elbows and the top two buttons undone. It gave a tantalizing glimpse of his muscled chest and his dog tag chain glinted in the low light from where it rested among dark chest hair.

The difference between him and Shirogane kept making Hizashi chuckle to himself as he watched them from across the booth. Unlike Shouta, Shirogane’s button up was a pale green, all buttons done up with a paisley dark green waistcoat cinched tight overtop. It was the first time Hizashi had seen him outside of his sweaters and he still managed to look like a librarian.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Naomasa jumped in before Shirogane could start again. “Are you saying you take actual court cases and have the kids play them out?”

Nemuri sloshed her drink while gesturing wide. “He does! It’s fascinating to watch, the kids really get into it!”

“How do you know Nem?” Shouta frowned.

“We’ve sat in on each other's classes.”

“What? Why?”

“Aww is someone jealous?” Tensei teased, reaching over Shirogane to tousle Shouta’s hair. “Don’t worry, your subject is interesting to me. What was it again?”

All Shouta could do was smack his hand and glare back, not willing to start a tussle with Shirogane in between them. Hizashi chuckled.

“Shiro hasn’t taught before this! He wanted to see another teacher in action and have someone watch him and give him feedback.” Nem said, answering Shouta’s question.

Hizashi’s heart thumped out of rhythm for a moment. His attention zeroed in on Shirogane who was half heartedly mopping up a bit of spilled drink with a napkin as Tensei continued to tease Shouta over his head. 

He didn’t react to the nickname. Didn’t even flinch. 

A couple weeks ago he’d snapped the wrist of Ringleader for being overly familiar and now he allowed Nem this. 

Hizashi tried not to let it get to him. You’re being unreasonable! You just made a huge step the other day and now you’re mad Nemuri called him a nickname? We all call each other nicknames! If they can even be called that, we just shorten each other's names and call it good. It doesn’t mean anything!

Still, the bitter taste in the back of his throat persisted and he tried to wash it down with a swig of his drink. He only partially succeeded. Frustrated, he tuned back into the conversation where Tensei and Nem had both ganged up on teasing his husband.

“-he was petrified to teach his first class! His face was so green I was sure he was going to puke!”

“He’d called me the night before to ask ‘what if they don’t like me?’ and then proceeded to expel someone the first day!” 

Shouta looked extremely put out while they howled with laughter.

“That kid deserved it.” He mumbled. Shirogane nodded sympathetically beside him.

“If we really want to talk about embarrassing, what about Hizashi and a certain crush.” Snipe said, dropping the line oh so casually even though it had the effect of a psychological bomb on Hizashi. 

He smacked his hand over Snipe’s mouth and looked about frantically.

“No! Not that! Um- uh- oh! Vlad, what do you do in your free time?”

He’d been sitting at the end of the booth beside Tensei, just watching in mild amusement at their antics. 

“I like to paint.”

“Wait, seriously? I would not have guessed that. Like acrylic or-”

“Nice try Zash but you ain’t getting out of this now! We have a fresh audience!” Nem grabbed him in a headlock, nearly dashing his skull on the table. 

“Nem!”

“No, no, she’s right Zashi, this is a story we must pass on.” Tensei clenched a fist over his heart and lowered his head as if in prayer.

Why did Tensei get so dramatic when he drank? This is what happens when someone reads too many books!

“If Yamada doesn’t want me to know-” Shirogane tried but was interrupted by Shouta, the fucking traitor.

“It’s okay. A little embarrassment does him good. Keeps him from getting a big head.”

Hizashi glared from the headlock he couldn’t escape. Nem was stupidly strong. 

“You want another month of sleeping on the couch?”

Shouta shrugged and turned back to his drink. “The back pain is worth it.”

Shirogane’s gaze flicked between the two of them before something lit up in his eyes. He opened his mouth to ask no doubt but was interrupted by Tensei.

“It began long ago, on a dark, rainy night. Hizashi was but a child-”

“He was nineteen.” Shouta said.

“A child! He was wandering alone in the dark, in the seediest parts of town! A beacon of innocence for evildoers.”

“He was on patrol.”

“He was jumped! Ten villains surrounded him-”

“Five.”

“They made no demands beyond spilling his blood to pay for locking away their brothers a week previous.”

“That part is accurate.” Shouta conceded.

“But then! From the darkness emerged a mysterious figure. They came at the villains, an ax in each hand, smiting them down with unmatched ferocity! It was over in seconds and they simply melted back into the night without a word.”

Shouta patted Shirogane's back whose drink had gone down the wrong way as Hizashi finally managed to escape Nem’s clutches.

“Enough! Quiet down Ten, oh my god, the whole bar does not need to hear this! Long story short, a vigilante saved my baby hero ass and I developed a tiny crush on them!”

Naomasa snorted into his water.

“It’s true!”

“If that was a tiny crush, I’d hate to see you in love. Oh wait, I have seen that. It’s gross.” Snipe drawled. 

“Watch it cowboy.” Hizashi pointed with a glare. 

“You were kind of obsessed, Zash.” Shouta said.

“Sho!”

“You wrote Viking/Reader fanfiction dear.” Nem patted his back.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!” Hizashi whined into the table. Why did he ever let her read that?!

“Viking?” Shirogane asked the group.

“An old vigilante.” Naomasa answered. “They actually stopped being active shortly after saving Yamada but no one knows why. But they’d been around for at least thirty or forty years by that point so they might’ve retired.”

“Or maybe they knew how obsessed Yamada got with them and fled the country.” Vlad piped up. 

“Or killed. They made a lot of enemies.” Shouta added.

“Viking was active for that long?” Shirogane asked, his brow pinched. 

“Yep. Gave lover boy plenty of material for his stories.” Nem lovingly leaned into him. Tensei jumped in, eager to continue slandering his good name.

“He would scour the web, finding any grainy footage or any scrap of evidence about Viking and saving them. I bet you still have it all in a folder somewhere.”

“I do not!” He squawked. 

“What made you so interested in him?” Shirogane asked suddenly, intent on Hizashi.

“You mean besides the fact that they mowed down five guys in less than a minute without breaking a sweat?” 

“Zash is a little fucked in the head.” Nem stage whispered across the table. 

“If you want him to like you, all you have to do is kick his ass.” Tensei agreed. 

Hizashi rolled his eyes and then ignored them, looking into his glass, trying to figure out how to word it. Truthfully he still held a small flame for the vigilante. It’d been his first major obsession after Shouta and it wasn’t something he could let go of so easily. Especially when they’d just vanished and he’d never gotten to ask his questions.

“I guess… they never did it for attention. Plenty of vigilantes want to make a name for themselves or earn recognition, but Viking never once left a message or stuck around for the press or the thanks of those they saved. Instead, their entire focus was hunting down villains. Illegal fighting rings using kids stolen off the streets. Kidnappers going after people for their quirks, looking to sell or whore them out. So many more. Every single one of them died with an ax in their back. Sure, not the most legal way to do it but if it gets the job done.” 

Hizashi shrugged before winking down the table at the detective. “Not that I condone vigilantism in any shape or form, Nao!” 

“I’m sorry, I went momentarily deaf, what were we talking about?”

“Ignorance is bliss, my friend!” Snipe toasted at him. Everyone took a drink except Shirogane who twirled his in his hand.

“Do you have a crush on Fenrir then?” 

Hizashi choked on his drink. Nem patted his back.

“What?”

“Fenrir, the vigilante. They have a similar M.O. to Viking, killing evil people with no regard for publicity or praise. If that’s what drew you to them, then it’d make sense for you to find Fenrir attractive as well.”

Cool brown eyes assessed him as Hizashi did some quick thinking.

“He does.”

“Sho!” 

“They’d figure it out eventually. And I’ve been stuck listening to you enumerate his qualities ad nauseum for long enough. It’s time everyone else got a chance.” 

Hizashi was going to make him sleep on the couch for life.

“How could you not tell us you have another crush Zash!” Nem cried.

“This is exactly why! You guys don’t let anything go, ever! You’ll lord this over me at my funeral!”

“Tell us!” Nem continued, starting to shake Hizashi as if she could rattle the truth out of him.

“No! It’s time to head to karaoke anyway! Who’s getting the drinks because it’s definitely not me! Not after all that. Did ya’ll forget that it's my birthday?”

He stood up in a huff, dragging Nemuri out of her seat as he did since she had yet to release her death grip on him. 

A movement at the door grabbed his attention and he caught a glimpse of someone ducking out as they all stood up. All he saw was dark hair and a mustache but something about it seemed vaguely familiar. 

Then Tensei nearly knocked him to the ground as he added his weight to Nem who was still clinging to Hizashi and the thought scattered as he turned back to the group. Shirogane was at the bar paying their tab and Naomasa and Vlad were saying their goodbyes, leaving the rest of them to soldier on.

No one spared them a glance as they trooped outside, their civilian wear making them invisible to the public.

After much argument, their first stop was a food stand to get Tensei his fried chicken. Everyone else grabbed something as well to soak up the alcohol. Feeling refreshed and mildly more sober, they continued on their way.

The streets were packed, filled with people enjoying a rare cool night before summer started in earnest. Flushed from the drinks and good company, Hizashi was relishing in the small breeze that would slip by occasionally. 

His gold sequined jacket probably hadn’t been a good idea since it didn’t breathe like, at all, but it had looked too damn good with his mesh top and leather pants so how was he supposed to say no?!   

Their group got split up pretty quickly in the press of people. Sho was a ways ahead with Nem hanging off him, no doubt talking his ear off about whatever was on her mind at that moment. Tensei and Snipe had gotten distracted by a window display a block before and fell behind. Which left Hizashi to meander along with Shirogane.

Determined to move past the reveal of his vigilante crush, Hizashi mentally rifled through his list of conversation starters he’d started compiling to have on hand after Shirogane had asked to walk with them a week ago.

“If you don’t mind me asking Shirogane, why did you want to become a teacher?”

The noise of the streets filled the space between them. A train rattled overhead and laughter spilled out of open doors.

For a brief second, Hizashi was concerned he was talking to the open air and had lost his walking companion but when he turned to look, Shirogane was there. But behind his glasses his eyes were unfocused and unseeing. 

Concerned, Hizashi stepped in front of him and stopped, his hands up and aimed for Shirogane’s shoulders if he kept walking. He didn’t want to touch him but he needed to get him to stop before he ran into something.

“Hey in there, you with me?”

Shirogane stopped abruptly, a few inches from Hizashi’s palms and his eyes refocused. He blinked a few times before shaking his head.

“I’m sorry about that Yamada, I get lost in thought sometimes. What did you say?”

“No worries at all my guy! Hope I didn’t interrupt anything important going on in there.”

“Nothing important at all. Just… reminiscing. Drinking makes me nostalgic I guess.” He rubbed his arm sheepishly. 

Hizashi shrugged and moved back in step with him so they could continue walking.

“You won’t get judgement from me. The more I drink, the more likely it is for me to lose my clothes. Compared to that, nostalgia ain’t that bad.”

Shirogane grinned. “Should I be worried about a strip tease sometime tonight then?”

“Only if you say please.” Hizashi winked.

“And risk Eraserhead’s wrath? No thank you.”

“Oh please, he actively encourages it. It’s only when people try and touch this fiiiiine body without asking first that he has a problem.” Hizashi ran his hands over his chest in a mock sultry move, waggling his eyebrows over his glasses.

“And if they ask first?” 

“Then I decide if they deserve it. I am a luxury few can afford.” He said dramatically. Shirogane chuckled.

“I believe it. Has anybody been able to afford it?” he asked, seemingly sincere but the question brought Hizashi’s brain to a screeching halt. 

What was he doing? Shirogane had pieced together that he was, at the very least, romantically involved with Sho only twenty minutes ago! And here he was, practically proclaiming to the world that he and Shouta would occasionally bring a third into their sex life.

Sho was gunna kill him.

He was so convinced that Shirogane was already a part of their family that he forgot they barely knew each other.  

“A few.” He admitted. “That’s not a problem is it? That Sho and I have more of an open relationship than most?” He tried for nonchalance but he knew an undercurrent of threat was still there. 

If Shirogane had a problem with who and how they loved, it was only a matter of time before he told someone. And nothing would stop Hizashi from removing a threat. 

His worry was unfounded as Shirogane responded.

“Not a problem at all. I think it’s wonderful that you are so comfortable in your relationship and identity to share such a fact publicly. It wasn’t that long ago, you know, that laws were cruel and inhumane towards those who were perceived to be different. Now people can love who they want freely.”  

Relief washed over him. So much so that it took him a moment to register the rest of what Shirogane had said.

Now, that’s an interesting supposition . It wasn’t entirely wrong and he could let it lie and not ruin the mood. He could easily turn the conversation back to chatting and friendly flirting for the rest of the walk.

But they had a ways to go and Hizashi’s patience could only stretch so far before snapping.

So why not potentially push his buttons and gauge his critical thinking skills a bit with a topic most people refused to participate in?

“Can we though? Love who we want freely? Sure we aren’t villainized for being in a homosexual relationship but discrimination is still alive and well, just with a new target.”

To his delight, Shirogane didn’t miss a beat. “You’re talking about quirk discrimination.”

“Yes! Can you imagine a top ten hero being in a relationship with someone with a “weak” quirk or someone who is quirkless? It just doesn’t happen, even if they wanted to. The perception of quirks and their usefulness is fundamentally flawed due to the infatuation with heroes.”

“Said the hero.” Shirogane teased.

“I am a part of the system, sure. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“Didn’t say you were. While I agree with your statement on the social perception of quirks, from a law perspective specifically, the discrimination is not nearly as bad as it was.”

“No? What about the laws that prohibit quirkless people from owning their own business? Or property? Or any law regarding quirkless people for that matter.”

“The law’s surrounding quirkless people are abhorrent,” Shirogane said darkly. “I won’t argue that. The point I’m making is that no one would be stoned to death or medically castrated for openly being with someone who is quirkless like they used to be if caught in a same sex partnership.”

“Maybe not physically, but they would become a social pariah. Public opinion doesn’t need laws to ostracize others. Still a death of a kind.” Hizashi pointed out. 

Shirogane was already shaking his head and readying a response before Hizashi finished. 

They went back and forth like that block after block, building up their own arguments for the other to try and tear down. Each going on small tangents before being pulled back in and with enough quips and jokes to keep it all light hearted despite the depressing subject matter.

Hizashi was ecstatic, nearly skipping down the street as he fired back facts or refuted one of Shirogane's points. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to converse with someone who could keep up with him. 

Sure, Shouta matched Hizashi’s intellect and they’d always been able to have deep conversations about sensitive topics. But he was always more reserved, preferring to listen and ruminate before engaging. 

There was none of this rapid fire give and take that stoked Hizashi’s fire. And adding fuel to it was the fact that Shirogane seemed just as invested as he was, his hands flying about as he excitedly delved into his next point.

They’d become so immersed in their conversation that they would’ve walked past the entrance to the karaoke bar if Shouta hadn’t bodily thrown Nemuri at them.

“For the love of god, please take her! If I hear one more thing about ‘ethylene-vinyl acetate and its versatility’, I’m going home.”

Hizashi caught Nem easily, spinning on the spot before setting her down. 

“Why hello gorgeous, you having fun bothering Sho?”

She giggled and patted his cheek.

“You know it! He’s so cute when he’s flustered.”

“I am not cute.” Shouta grumbled. “I don’t even know what ethylene-vinyl acetate is after all that.”

“It’s a foam, commonly used for construction of props or costume pieces. It’s quite versatile actually!” Shirogane piped up, a shit eating grin on his face. 

Nemuri gasped. “Finally! Someone gets it!” She peeled off Hizashi and rounded on Shirogane, already starting to reel off questions.

“I’m going home.” Shouta deadpanned, spinning on the spot and starting to walk away before Hizashi caught him from behind, squeezing him in a hug that pinned his arms.

“Shoooooo! You can’t leave!”

“Watch me.”

“Nooooooo!”

“If you don’t get off, you’re coming with me.”

“Ha! Like you’ve ever won a wrestling match against me!”

“Because you cheat! Every time!”

“It’s not cheating, it’s winning.”

“Everyone knows it’s against the rules to lick your opponent's neck.”

“I’ll need to check your sources.”

“My sources are-”

They were interrupted by a loud wolf whistle followed by raucous laughter. Immediately disentangling themselves they turned around to see a group of drunk men circling Nem and Shirogane. 

For fucks sake, they’d only been left alone for two seconds. 

“You pretty ladies looking for some company?”

“We’ll treat you nice, don’t worry.”

“Why don’t you come with us? We know a nice, quiet place where we can get to know one another.”  

“We aren’t interested. Get the fuck away from us.”

Nem warned, pushing Shirogane behind her as the men circled them. 

“Don’t be like that baby, we don’t bite.”

“We do.” Hizashi shoved one of them aside to enter the circle they’d made, standing in front of Nemuri. Shouta was right on his tail, moving to stand behind Shirogane and staring down the men at the back. 

The leader of the group, the least drunk by the look and smell of it, puffed out his chest, unwilling to back down that easily in front of his friends. And he probably felt like he had the advantage of numbers. Fool. 

“This is between us and the ladies. Why don’t you stay out of it and nobody needs to get hurt.”

“No. Leave them alone.” 

“Listen, if you don’t move along, things are going to get ugly.” He cracked his knuckles and his friends chuckled, jostling each other with shoves. One swiped at Shirogane but he neatly dodged the groping hand and backed closer to Nemuri.

“Have you looked in a mirror lately? Things are already ugly.” 

“Zash.” Shouta sighed behind him. What? It wasn’t like he was wrong. Can’t a guy have a little fun?

Nemuri had moved to his left, leaving Shirogane in the middle of them. Considering his 1-0 record against heroes, he’d probably be able to handle his own against a drunkard, but of the four of them, he was the only non licensed hero. 

If things got out of hand, it made more sense to keep him from the fight.

“Who’re you calling ugly? By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be lucky if your own mother recognizes you!” 

“Eh, she might not but I’m sure your mom will since she doesn’t need my face to know me.” Hizashi smirked and made a show of rolling his hips, just to make sure they got it.

With a roar of indignation, the leader pitched forward and Hizashi bared his teeth, his skin buzzing with anticipation for the fight when-

A wall of tree branches sprung up between the men and their circle.

“Is there a problem here gentlemen?” The crowd that had gathered parted with cheers as Kamui Woods stepped forward. 

The leader jerked back, immediately beginning to fumble with apologies and assurances that nothing was wrong.

Hizashi sighed and dropped from his stance. “Oh com’on Kamui! It was just about to get fun!”

From best he could tell with the mask in the way, Kamui rolled his eyes.

“Not as much fun as the press would’ve had catching wind of Present Mic and Midnight beating up civilians.”

The men were still aware enough to recognize two prominent hero names. They paled. One looked like he might puke but that could’ve been the alcohol.

Hizashi shrugged. “They started it.”

“Right. Well I’ll finish it if you don’t mind. Move along everyone. You men, go home. You’ve drunk enough for tonight.”

Abashed, they all nodded and shuffled on. He got the crowd to move on as well, keeping them from being accosted by fans on their night out.

“Thanks Kamui.” Nemuri called out and the hero nodded back at them.

“Anytime. Enjoy your night. Try not to pick any more fights please.”

He took off just as Tensei and Snipe appeared. 

“Was that Kamui Woods?”

“Did we miss something?”

Hizashi let Nemuri regale them with the story while he turned to Shirogane, Shouta hovering a bit to the side.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t look too ruffled by the encounter. His hair was still immaculate and his vest neat and tidy. 

“I am fine. Just um…” Hizashi watched as he fiddled with his ring, eyes shifting to the side for a second before jumping back. It was hard to tell with his darker skin, but Hizashi was almost sure he was blushing.

“Um, thank you for stepping in.”

“Anytime my guy!” It looked for a moment like he was going to say something else but Shouta scoffed before he could get it out. 

“Oh sure, it’s fine when Zash does it but when I save you, you throw a fit.”

Shirogane snapped to Shouta with an unimpressed look.

“That was different and you know it.”

“No, actually, I don’t. Enlighten me.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s go inside before they give away our reservation!” 

Hizashi interrupted and started hustling everyone inside. As much fun as it was to watch the two of them go at it, Hizashi wanted to sing.

Chapter Text

Zashi was beautiful. 

Which was not news to anyone, least of all Shouta. But it was in moments like these that he found himself incapable of thinking about literally anything else. Hizashi was drop dead gorgeous and Shouta was damn lucky to be married to him.

He was on the mini stage in their karaoke room, putting his heart and soul (not his quirk yet thankfully) into his song and looking so breathtakingly vibrant and alive that Shouta felt himself fall in love all over again.

His glittering abomination of a jacket had been tossed aside early on and now Shouta unabashedly ogled his husband as he strutted about in his mesh tank top and leather pants. 

The neon light cast his shoulders and collarbones into stark relief and the shadows slipped across his skin like Shouta wished he could, dipping into every crease on his stomach and teasing along the small trail of blond hair at his waistline where his tank top kept riding up.

There was a moment, a hole opened in the sky
A chance to join that pantheon
For all the times they never heard your battle cry
Now even angels sing along

If Shouta were to start believing in the supernatural, it’d be because of Zashi’s voice. He’d spent so long training and perfecting every miniscule aspect of his quirk, that his control over his vocal chords was exceptional. He could sing anything, and sing it extraordinarily well. 

But Shouta didn’t think his training could account for the times when Hizashi’s singing came alive. Some days, when the rain blurred the world, he’d sing and the notes would transform into a haunting melody that slipped straight into Shouta’s blood and struck a chord so deep it felt like it matched the frequency of his soul. 

Time passed differently when Hizashi sang like that. 

No, a good song never
The first time it made you cry
The first time you felt alive
No, a good song never

Tonight was all exuberance and joy though. Zashi finished his song with a flourish and everyone applauded loudly as he bowed. 

“Snipe! You’re up my man!” He tossed the mic over and collapsed onto the bench beside Shouta, giving him a loud smack of a kiss on the cheek before snuggling into his side. 

The privacy of the room allowed them a rare freedom in displays of affection.

Shouta draped his arm over him, keeping him close despite his sweaty heat sticking to him. 

Snipe pointed the mic at them before bringing it up to say in an amplified voice,

“See? Gross.”

“Jealousy isn't a good look on you!” Hizashi called back, throwing a napkin at him which fluttered pitifully to the ground two feet from them.

Snipe snorted and turned to choose his song. No doubt going to be some twangy country song that’d make Shouta’s ears bleed. 

Mentally preparing to suffer, he buried his face into Hizashi’s hair and breathed in the scent of him, pressing absent minded kisses in as he did. 

Zashi squeezed his knee and tapped it twice, asking him if he was okay. 

“‘M fine.” He mumbled into silky hair. “You? You seemed upset at the bar, did we take the teasing too far?”

A banjo strummed loudly and Snipe started singing in a deep baritone. Hizashi shifted a bit so Shouta could see his mouth as he whispered back.

“Nah, I wasn’t upset about that. Well, I was. You’ve definitely got yourself another week on the couch but that wasn’t really it. Just momentarily frustrated with something.”

Shouta nudged him to get him to explain further but he flicked his eyes to the side and didn’t say more. Ah. The something was in the room with them. 

Four guesses who. 

Hizashi blinked slowly at him once and then turned back to Snipes' performance. They’d talk about it later. 

An agonizing three and a half minutes later, Shouta’s suffering ended only for a new kind to take its place. It was his turn.

The things he did for love. 

He begrudgingly accepted the mic from a grinning Snipe and slowly panned through the list of songs. 

“Hoe don’t do it!” Tensei yelled.

“Do what?” Shirogane asked.

“He plays the same song every single time, it’s so fucking annoying.”

“Choose something new Sho! I know you have a good voice, Zashi told me so!” 

He stared them down as he tapped the screen and got into position.

The catchy strum of a guitar started and they all groaned dramatically. Even Shirogane rolled his eyes in exasperation.

As the saxophone burst in, Shouta stood unmoving and stared out at them all. Snipe and Tensei were glued together in the right corner of the bench, Tensei with his legs thrown over Snipes lap and Snipes arm tucked over Tensei’s shoulder.

Good. Maybe they’d finally do something about their unresolved sexual tension and stop annoying everyone with their whinging. 

If Shouta was forced to read another text dump about how pretty of a blue Snipes eyes were and how strong he was and how he was such a good hero he would lock them in a closet together and chuck the key into the ocean. 

Nem was on Tensei’s left side, more focused on Shirogane to her left as they whispered back and forth, rudely ignoring Shouta’s award worthy performance.

Tequila.

On the other side of Shirogane, Hizashi was sin incarnate, draped across the bench, all long limbs and lithe muscle. He was watching Shouta over the rim of his glass with a smirk and heated eyes. 

Warmth pooled low in his stomach and he quickly shifted his eyes off his husband lest he get a hard on in front of all his friends.

His eyes landed on Shirogane who was paying rapt attention to Nem.

He looked wrong without a sweater. While most days it looked like he was drowning in them, he looked even smaller without their silhouette . More vulnerable.

Shouta didn’t trust him.

And he still couldn’t explain why. By all accounts, Shirogane was a soft spoken, intelligent man who taught his students well and had shit taste in clothes. 

He’d only been violent the one time and for all the antagonizing Shouta had done, he’d never lashed out beyond verbally berating him.

Still, Shouta was growing more and more convinced he was hiding something. And all he had to work with was a gut feeling since Zashi had made him promise not to run a background check. 

He was too goddamn trusting. But that’s what Shouta was for. He had the patience to wait and to research and observe a person before deciding if they should be kept around. 

Tequila.

But by god, the itch to delve deeper was growing by the day. It was wearing on Zashi too, Shouta could tell. But he still insisted they do things the old fashioned way. Chatting and small talk. Hurrah. Shouta’s favorite.

Maybe if he got Shirogane drunk enough tonight his lips would loosen? Would that still count as the old fashioned way? Or would that be cheating? 

Shouta wasn’t sure if he cared. He just wanted to know if he could trust him to be a good friend to Zashi. 

He needed something to crack Shirogane’s mask. To shatter his constant reticence for once. There were sparks of a fire within, occasional outbursts that spoke of something burning hot in Shirogane’s center. 

Like in the moments when he’d snap back at Shouta in one of their arguments, or the day he broke Ringleaders wrist. 

He wanted more of that. To see the honesty of Shirogane’s emotions. But it seemed the greater the magnitude of emotion expressed, the quicker the curtain dropped. He’d slip behind his mask of calm and act like nothing had happened.

It pissed Shouta off.

Tequila.

Everyone joined in for the last one, yelling loud and drowning out his monotone mumble. He gratefully stepped off the stage and handed the mic over to Shirogane who took it tentatively. 

“Thank you kitten.” Zashi purred in his ear after he dropped back down beside him. “I know you hate performing in front of others.”

“It’s your birthday.” Shouta shrugged, settling back to watch the next performance with mildly more interest than he had for Snipe’s.

Shirogane looked like a fish out of water. A librarian at karaoke. The neon lights drowned out the green of his vest and shirt, turning it a muddled shade. 

He fidgeted with his rings as he scrolled through the selection of songs, looking lost before lighting up and quickly tapping the screen and hopping on to the stage. 

He shook himself out, closing his eyes and waiting for the music to start.

A synthetic beat thumped through the air and then a piano burst into life, causing Zashi to bolt upright, narrowly missing Shouta’s chin and nearly knocking out the wall as he cheered in recognition.

Nem was right behind him, bouncing up and clasping hands with Hizashi as they jumped in excitement. Shouta shared an exasperated look with Snipe down the bench. Shirogane laughed at their reaction and dove into the lyrics with enthusiasm.

Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where’s the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds?

Holy shit. He was a terrible singer. His voice was flat and a half step behind the beat and Shouta felt like he should be embarrassed for him. 

But he couldn’t be. Because Shirogane wasn’t. 

He was belting out with his whole body, throwing in crazy dance moves and bouncing around the stage, happiness radiating out of him. 

Each note he missed and each word he tripped on just made his grin wider and his next dance move that much more wild. 

I need a hero
I’m holding out for a hero ‘til the end of the night
He’s gotta be strong, and it’s gotta be fast, 
And he’s gotta be fresh from the fight.

His energy was infectious. He jumped down from the stage and joined Nem and Zashi as they danced, and all three of them grabbed at Tensei and Snipe, hoisting them out of their corner to join them.

They wisely left Shouta alone.

He was content to watch as in the small space available, around the table and onto the stage, they all twirled and spun and dipped each other, laughing and singing along. 

Shirogane faced Nem and mock flexed his muscles and altered the lyrics a bit as she also struck a pose.

She’s gotta be strong.  

Shirogane spun to Tensei, pointing at him.

He’s gotta be fast .

Snipe was next, Shirogane serenading him.

He’s gotta be fresh from the fight.

Unexpectedly he turned to Shouta. He didn’t try and pull him up to dance but he locked eyes with him as he sang. 

I’m holding out for a hero ‘til the morning light.

And then he turned to the man of the hour and thrust out a hand which Zashi grabbed without thought and pulled him into a spin that knocked all the others down like bowling pins.

He’s gotta be sure, 
And it’s gotta be soon,
And he’s gotta be larger than life.

He let go of Hizashi and let him spin into Nem who caught him with a laugh. 

A dramatic drum solo brought Shirogane back to the stage where he mimed along and then became even more theatric in his dance moves as his voice cracked over the next chorus.

Slowly the music faded out and everyone whooped and hollered as Shirogane dropped into a low bow. 

“How am I supposed to follow that?” Tensei whined as Shirogane handed the mic off to him.

“Amazing job Shirogane!” 

“Much better than Shouta for sure.” 

“Low bar but he’s right, that was fun!” 

Shirogane ducked his head at their praise and quickly sat back down beside Zashi. 

“Wooooooow! I was not expecting that at all! Consider my socks knocked off!” Hizashi kicked out one of his legs and wiggled his heeled foot. Shirogane chuckled.

“I thought we agreed no strip teases.”

“My dear, if you think strip teases start with socks, I fear for your sex life.” 

Shouta’s eyebrow ticked up. He’d obviously missed some sort of conversation.

“A strip tease can start with any piece of clothing if the person is good enough.” Shirogane countered.

“Ooooooh, interesting proposition. How abooooout a banana costume?”

“Oh definitely. And that would come with an added benefit of silly puns to lighten the mood. For instance ‘I find you a-peeling’.”

Zashi gasped. “Oh my god, you’re right! Okay then, what about…”

Shouta could not keep up. So he didn’t try. He sipped his water and focused on the feel of Zashi’s shifting muscles where they leaned together as he put his whole body into talking. 

Nem was quickly roped in and dragged the other two in as well and for a while no one sang while they hotly debated whether or not one could make a strip tease of Endeavor's hero outfit sexy. 

“No, no, no. Tight spandex is generally sexy, yes, but if the intention is to set the mood, there’s no way in hell Endeavors costume will work!” Nemuri cried. 

“Anyone who gets hard looking at that flaming trash can needs to be put in a psych ward.” Snipe scoffed. Tensei clinked his drink in agreement.

“But we only wanted to know if it could work as a strip tease, not whether it's attractive or not.” Shirogane’s cool analytical tone was at odds with the frankly disturbing topic. He made it sound like they were in a lecture hall discussing law rewrites.

“Attraction is an integral part of a strip tease though! Otherwise it’s just someone undressing.” Hizashi argued back.

“Exactly!” Nemuri shouted.

“Is it even a strip tease if there’s no one around to be horny about it?” Tensei said with faux reverence, gazing into the middle distance.

“Wow.”

“That was profound.” 

“So deep my guy.”

They were all looking at Tensei with stars in their eyes, with the exception of Shirogane who was hiding a laugh behind his hand.

Shouta was going to have to wash his brain with bleach. Time to distract them from whatever this conversation was. 

“We only have twenty minutes left. Please for the love of god, someone pick a song.”

“Oh me!” Hizashi jumped up and raced to the stage. 

The night was back on track and they got through a few more songs before Hizashi decided to finally slip his quirk into his voice, rattling all the booths in the building and kicking off a round of distant screams, everyone convinced an earthquake was happening.

They were pretty immediately escorted off the premises, the door slamming at their heels as they fell about with laughter.

Snipe was the first one to break off, a sleepy Tensei tucked under his arm. Nem was quick to follow, skipping along behind them. 

Before he left, Shirogane pulled out a small package, wrapped in bright yellow paper with a green bow in the center. Where the fuck had he been keeping that?

“For you.”

Shouta watched as a dumbfounded Hizashi unwrapped it. It was a leather bound book.

“The Picture of Dorian Gray? This is one of my favorites!” 

The yellowed pages crinkled as he leafed through it. The spine was creased and nicks were missing off the edges of the cover.

“I know, you said so in your latest podcast.”

“I did, didn’t I…” Hizashi muttered, entranced by the book. 

“A used copy?” Shouta mused, half serious in his criticism of the gifts’ appearance.

Shirogane huffed. “Yes, Eraserhead,  a used copy. It’s been in my family for generations. I find such treasures are more valuable than any cheap paperback copy you can buy from a chain bookstore.”

“Sounds like you’re saying you forgot to get him a gift and grabbed the closest thing you had lying around.”

Flat brown eyes rolled. “Sentiment is wasted on you.”

Zashi clapped a hand down on Shouta’s shoulder, stopping him from firing back. Instead of chastising him for antagonizing Shirogane like he expected, Hizashi was still staring at the book, gaping like a fish.

“Shir-Shirogane. This-this-this is signed. This is a signed copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray . What- how- do you know how much this is worth?”

Shirogane shrugged. “It was gathering dust in my attic. Sell it if you want but I gave it because I thought it’d be in better hands with you.”

Hizashi clutched it to his chest. “No! I mean, yes! I will cherish this. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Happy Birthday Yamada.”

His smile was soft and looked more real than anything Shouta had seen from him before. He bid them goodnight and then it was just the two of them outside the karaoke bar.

The owner was still glaring at them from inside. Shouta flipped him off, discreetly. And then quickly nudged Zashi to start walking.

“Well now my gift for you seems silly.” Shouta muttered. Hizashi hummed.

“It is going to have to be spectacular to beat this.”

“I’ll try my best. Time for the afterparty then.”

Chapter Text

That pulled Zashi from his perusal of the book. His brow was pinched as he stared at Shouta in confusion. 

“Afterparty? What afterparty? There wasn’t anything like that in the itinerary we sent out.”

Shouta smirked and tugged him into the shadows of an alley and crowded him up against the wall with his hips, the book caught between them as he ducked into his neck. 

Thank god for the dark and civilian attire. He could get away with teasing his husband in public and they’d just be two more anonymous lovers to passerbys. 

“And you started turning down spontaneity… when?” He murmured as he traced his nose along the pale skin of Zashi’s neck.

“Oh.” Hizashi gasped, his head tilting to give Shouta more room to wander. “Never. I am so ready for the afterparty. Whatever it is. Let’s go. Right now.”

“It’s a bit of a drive.”

“Don’t care. Stop teasing and let’s go.”

Shouta kept his husband tucked in his arms and nibbled his way up to Zashi’s ear, delighting in the small gasps at each bite. 

“You’re going to need your gear.” He whispered. 

“Oh Shooooo.” Zashi moaned, dangerously loud for the public setting they were in. Shouta leaned back to look at his husband whose eyes were half closed, a happy smile curling at the corners of his lips. 

“Car?”

“Now.” 

They weren’t parked far from the karaoke bar but it took them a while to get there since Shouta couldn’t resist trapping Zashi in every other shadow to lick into his mouth and kiss him senseless.

Zashi was a blushing mess by the time he dropped into the passenger seat, breathless and squirming in his uncomfortably tight leather pants.

“You’re evil, you know that?” He complained. 

Shouta chuckled evilly and took off. Zashi tried to take revenge while they drove, his hand sliding teasingly across Shouta’s thigh and dancing dangerously close to his half hard dick. 

“Do you want me to crash the car on your birthday?”

“It’s way past midnight my love, it’s no longer my birthday.” 

“Semantics. Hands to yourself while I’m driving.”

“So unfaaaaair.”

As a compromise, Shouta offered his hand to hold and he was able to keep driving without distraction.

Mostly. He did have to speed check himself a few times. The weight of Hizashi’s heavy gaze trailing over his body made it difficult to keep his foot off the gas. 

Especially when Zashi cranked the radio and crooned along to the ballads, his voice dipping into notes that made it feel like Shouta’s bones were melting and left him aching for more.

Slowly, the dazzling lights and bustle of the city faded and Zashi allowed the radio to be turned off as Shouta pulled into a dark alley and shut the car off. The sudden silence buzzed in Shouta’s ears.

“Here.”

Hizashi was out of his seat and throwing open the boot of the car before Shouta had unbuckled. He stepped out and stretched. 

He and Zashi had stuck with water after they had all left the bar and with food and the long drive, Shouta felt as clear headed as anyone could be this early in the morning. 

Zashi was already halfway through dressing when Shouta rounded the car to join him and in silence, he started gearing up himself.

It was a familiar routine. 

Once the last belt was cinched and everything was locked up, Shouta took the lead, guiding them up a fire escape and onto the roof. 

Together they ran, jumping over gaps and flying through the night as Shouta led them on a circuitous route to their destination. 

The moon was brilliant above them, drowning out the stars and washing the world in silver, making the blue shadows deeper and lending an elegance to the night that was at odds with their intentions.  

Anticipation. That was the scent that coated Shouta’s tongue on each inhale, the cool night air tasting like freedom and possibility.

Tonight wasn’t about waiting. He wasn’t going to wander through the city and wait to hear the screams of terror or the cries of a child before leaping into action.

Tonight was about being proactive.

They stopped on top of a dilapidated warehouse, nimbly avoiding the spots that were rotting away and squatting down at its edge.

“You always take me to the most romantic places.” Hizashi grinned, his voice merry but soft.

“Sorry I forgot the candles.” 

“Hmm I might forgive you if you tell me the sitrep.”

“Small gang. Trying to make it big by terrorizing everyone else less fortunate than them. Killed a few elderly people for not paying outrageous protection fees. I’ve been monitoring them for a while and I would’ve set them up for arrest but they’ve somehow managed to score a trade with the Shie Hassaikai. Drugs for kids under four.”

Zashi’s eyes flashed.

“What the fuck does the yakuza want with children who haven’t presented a quirk yet?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Those sick bastards. If they weren’t so well protected I’d vibrate their bones to splinters. No, that’s too kind. I’d liquify their brains! Or both. You can live with shattered bones, long enough to-”

Shouta was one hundred percent on board with whatever methods Zashi had in mind, but the Shie Hassaikai weren’t their targets right now. 

He snagged Zashi’s vest and tugged him forward so they were an inch apart, forcing bright green eyes to focus on him.

“Hey. I know. But we can’t do anything about that right now. This small gang though? They’re all yours.” 

Zashi stared at him for a long moment before nodding minutely. Shouta let go of his vest and continued. 

“They were given half the drugs as a gesture of goodwill but they haven’t rounded up the children yet. My intel says they are planning on doing so mid-morning today. All members gathered together the night before to celebrate and prepare.”

“Where.”

Shouta pointed over the ledge to the warehouse across the street. He watched Hizashi’s eyes flick over the roof, windows, and doors. Accounting for all entrances and exits.

“Targets?”

“Sixteen men. Most of their quirks are mutant or transformative, used for intimidation. More brawn than brain. The one that could cause the most issues is an emitter who breathes out lethal doses of carbon monoxide.”

“Bet he has a shit love life.”

“His dead fiance agrees.”

“No shit, really?”

“Ruled a suicide.”

“Body found in a garage with the car running?”

“Oh, you read the report.”

“Lucky guess. Identifying features?”

“Neon green hair.”

“Tacky.”

“Genetic.”

Hizashi flicked his hair over his shoulder and huffed. 

“Still tacky.”

“Anyway. No hero patrol routes cover this area tonight, the closest one stops over five miles away. Kamui actually.”

“Oh noooo. He said not to pick any more fights tonight.”

“Good thing it won’t be a fight then.”

Hizashi’s grin was wide and showed too many teeth.

“No. No it won’t be. Scorched earth then?”

“Leave the drugs untouched. I’ll be relocating them for disposal later, but otherwise, yes. Happy birthday Zash.”

Zashi’s grin turned feral and he abruptly grabbed Shouta by his throat and yanked him close, his fingernails biting into Shouta’s neck. Their lips met in a clash as Zashi kissed him hard, all teeth and aggression. His lip tore and Shouta tasted iron. They both moaned when he licked his blood into Zashi’s mouth. 

They parted with a gasp and Zashi kept him there, kneeling awkwardly on the crumbling roof with his hand squeezed around his throat. Shouta could feel blood slowly drip from his lip and watched Hizashi track it with a hungry look. 

“God you’re fucking perfect for me. How are you sooo perfect? I’m never letting you go, you know that right? I’ll chain you to the bed if I have to and pamper you so good you won’t remember a life beyond it. You’re mine forever Sho. I will never let you go.” 

Hizashi whispered reverently, tracing Shouta’s face with the hand not firmly around his throat. 

“Forever.” Shouta affirmed, his voice hoarse from lack of air. 

His husband was celestial above him. The moonlight wreathed him in burnished silver and Shouta felt the wild animal in him claw at his ribs in a frenzy of adoration. 

A pantheon of gods could crowd the sky and trumpet their might above him and Shouta would not turn his head. As long as blood flowed through his veins, he would worship only one man. 

The grip at his throat turned into a soft caress and Zashi kissed his temple. 

“Shall we get started?”

“Yes. Enjoy your gift, my love.” Shouta pressed Hizashi’s hand to his lips in a kiss before letting go.

His husband stretched out from his crouch and ran a final check on his gear. He tightened the extendable claws around his wrists and tucked his hair into a cap and hood. 

While he did so, Shouta brought his backpack around and started pulling out the equipment he’d need to oversee the warehouse and monitor police frequencies. 

The night held its breath as they finished setting up. Shouta sitting in a comfortable spot on the roof, the monitors dimly glowing around him and Hizashi balanced on the roof's edge.

“Check.”

“Check.”

Coms were good.

“Into the fire?”

“The flames will know our names.”

They’d picked up the phrase somewhere, maybe back in high school when it was them against the world. But the origin didn’t matter anymore. It had evolved with every utterance until it had become their call and response before every major operation. A reminder that if they were to burn, it’d be bright and fearsome and they’d burn together.

Then came Shouta’s favorite part. Hizashi, standing fearlessly on the ledge, clipped on his wolf mask. 

It was a snarling, vicious image of a black wolf. The teeth were sharp and dripping red and the ears stuck straight up. Only Hizashi’s eyes could be seen, burning an acidic green as his ferality crept in.

He threw his arms wide, tilted his head back, and howled into the endless sky. The moon itself seemed to shiver. 

He didn’t need his quirk to hit the resonant pitch that shuddered the world around them. 

Shouts and bangs drifted up from the warehouse as those still awake heard his call and knew on a deep, instinctual level, that they were now prey. Hizashi blew Shouta a kiss and somersaulted off the roof. Shouta soaked in the moon while he waited. 

It didn’t take long for the screams to start. 

He dropped his eyes to his laptop where he had the security feeds from the warehouse up. The video was low quality. It was grainy and jumped every few seconds but it was enough. 

Hizashi tore through the men. They were sleepy and disoriented, not expecting an attack. It was child’s play for a ruthless predator. Shouta almost felt bad.

Almost.

He kept tabs on them through the screen, directing Zashi to any trying to hide or sneak up on him and any potential traps.

The things he did for love.

If it was up to Shouta, Zashi and their pack would not be heroes. He’d have whisked them away to some remote little village and watched over them where nothing could hurt them. 

He’d come so fucking close to doing so after Oboro had died. It’d been all his fault and to say he hadn’t coped well would be a severe understatement. 

He had spiraled. Hard.

His finger had been poised over the mouse, seconds away from submitting a bid on a sprawling ranch style house in the middle of the mountains when he’d glanced up to see Zashi gearing up for patrol, his hair shorter then and his face unlined. 

He hadn’t recognized him for a moment. The already hard edges of his partner that’d been formed from a terrible childhood had sharpened in his grief and rage. His broad shoulders were strong and straight, ready to carry the weight of the world and his smile was brilliant, full of fierce determination and love. 

He was a hero. Down to his very DNA. 

Shouta couldn’t take that from him. It would kill him.

And it’d kill Shouta, to watch the love of his life slowly wither away, deprived of the connections he’d fostered and the chance to better the world, one smile at a time.

So to keep them from both dying in a dramatic fit of over possessive panic, Shouta shifted his focus towards making the life they had in the city as safe as possible for Zashi. 

It was the same motivation that brought Shouta to this point. 

He’d always known Zashi was angry. Ever since that first day in high school when a gangly blond boy had punched his lights out for making a shitty comment about his mom, he’d known.

Zashi held a simmering rage within him that nothing could touch. He could vent to Shouta or their friends for hours, wear himself out with kickboxing at his agency’s gym, and sing himself hoarse over a microphone but it was always there. 

So Shouta wasn’t as shocked as he probably should have been when he found the two rapists he’d been tracking dead in their apartment, a figure soaked in their blood standing proud above the cooling bodies. 

A figure whose mannerisms and tics instantly betrayed their identity to Shouta despite the mask.

He’d know his husband anywhere.

And he’d do anything for him. So he’d given him a quick kiss, brushed aside his feeble attempts at an explanation, and sent him home. He then disposed of the bodies and wiped the cameras.

After rejoining him at home and after an unneeded explanation from Zashi, they quickly set up the rules for the new extracurricular, just as they had established Lazy Sundays™ a year previous.

Shouta would plan. Obsessively. He’d track down those who were irredeemable. Study them. Nail down their habits, their acquaintances, what foods they liked, and where they felt the safest. Through cameras, tailing them, and his underground network. Anything to accumulate enough data and account for enough variables to put together a plan.

And then it was Hizashi’s turn. Shouta would set the stage and let loose his husband, but he never put limitations on what Zashi felt he needed to do for relief. 

It was this outlet that satiated the predator under Zashi’s skin the most. Where he could let loose and act without thought, trusting Shouta to watch his back and keep him safe.   

Shouta would say it was all for Zashi, that his sanity was the reason for it all. 

But. 

He couldn’t deny the smug satisfaction he got out of watching his husband unfailingly destroy any and all targets Shouta placed within his sightline.

It was a masterpiece every time. 

When it was a want more than a need, Zashi would get creative with it. Sometimes his hunts lasted for hours as he toyed with his prey, letting them believe they’d gotten away before slicing their throat with his claws.

Other nights, when he was wound tight and ready to snap, the only impulse he had was to kill.

It seemed that was tonight's modus operandi. Shouta directed him to a group that was huddled in the rafters and watched as they were cut down. 

He never used his quirk. It was too recognizable for one but for another, he didn’t need to. 

He’d been sparring with Shouta for more than a decade, with and without his quirk, and Shouta prided himself on his quirkless fighting style, a mix of martial arts, acrobatics, and brute strength. It was inevitable that Zashi had picked up more than a few tricks throughout the years. He was more capable in close combat than most people expected given his long range quirk.

All the villains ever knew was that they were being hunted by a wolf masked assailant with bladed claws on each hand. 

And all the public and police knew was Fenrir the vigilante who left no villains alive once he started a hunt.

Shouta would never allow Zashi to be thrown into Tartarus for this.

On the screen, Zashi towered over a man with bright green hair, his claws firmly planted in his chest. He yanked them out in a spray of blood and the man crumpled to the ground.

It was done. 

Shouta quickly packed up and swung over to a new rooftop as another howl pierced through the air. He knew what was coming next and his blood raced in excitement.

A door banged open below and Shouta peeked over the edge of the roof. Green eyes glowed out of the mask as they swept the skyline, fixing on Shouta in a matter of seconds. He always found him so fast. 

Shouta ran.

This was the sub-clause. After a few missions it had become clear that Zashi needed a cool down period to return to the loving, energetic man he was in the daylight. Some final thing that appeased his inner beast enough to retreat willingly and release its hold over Zashi’s sanity.

Still, it’d taken Zashi nearly murdering Nem for them to make the amendment. 

Shouta really should’ve seen it coming but he was taken by surprise when she’d popped by for breakfast too early after an extracurricular night and Zashi had gone ballistic at the breach of his territory.

If Shouta hadn’t tackled him out of his lunge and screamed for Nem to leave, they might’ve been down another pack member.

Luckily, she’d bought their lie. That Zashi had been exposed to a mild aggression quirk while on patrol. It wasn’t severe enough to seek medical attention and considering her past with Zashi’s normal temper, it didn’t take much convincing. 

But they didn’t like lying to their friends. And didn’t want to risk it happening again.

Nem and the gang could, at the very least, fight off a beserk Zashi long enough to call for backup. But what if it had been their mailman at the door? It’d be a huge mess for Shouta to deal with and Zashi would feel terrible.

The answer was glaringly obvious. 

Their friendship had been founded on fighting for dominance and it had easily morphed into a sex life that was rougher than most. Neither found that they could easily submit, even if it was to each other. 

They had to prove each time which of them deserved the other's submission and only then would the other allow it. 

Which led to any foreplay turning into a competition, wrestling to get the other onto his back or cuffed to the headboard, face down on the bed. 

It was exhilarating.

And Shouta loved it. It obviously made Hizashi happy and they always finished, multiple times on a good night. 

But in quiet moments, when Hizashi was curled in a fluffy blanket under candlelight or was humming a happy tune and bopping around the flat, the sun captured in his hair, Shouta wished he could make love to him. To indulge in each other for hours instead of the mindless fucking they always ended with.

The annoying part was that they were easily affectionate outside of sex. Cuddling for hours and smattering kisses across each other’s faces. A gooey, honey sweet kind of affection that their friends teased them mercilessly for. 

But as soon as the libido rose, their animals awoke with it and clamored for a fight.

And right now, that was what Zashi needed, one final hunt of the night. So Shouta provided.

He ducked and wove in and out of shadows. This was going to be harder with the moonlight glowing all around him. He felt horribly exposed anytime he made a break across a rooftop or flung himself into the air. 

The alleyways felt safer, dark crevasses that fit snug against the coolness of the open air above him. In them he was able to narrow the potential openings for attack to three directions instead of the limitless opportunities when he was on the roofs. 

Being predictable would cost him though. Having a pursuer know him so intimately made decisions difficult. Should he stick to alleyways where he had the illusion of safety but left blind corners for the wolf to trap him in? Or take back to the sky where he’d be spotted in seconds but he had the room to sprint with abandon?

He kept moving as he debated, crouching behind garbage bins and shimmying up drain pipes. It didn’t help that half his mind was preoccupied with committing his route to memory.

It’d become second nature to avoid cameras during their extracurricular activities but Shouta tended to get sloppy when he was aroused. He’d need to know which cameras to review and erase if any of them caught a glimpse of their chase.

He slipped onto the roof of an abandoned office building and ducked into the shadow of an air conditioning unit. It was higher than the surrounding buildings by a few blocks and he scanned them for any sign of his pursuer. 

Nothing. 

That can’t possibly be good. 

His intuition proved correct as a small scuff to his right sent his pulse rocketing and he dropped like he’d been shot.

He tucked into a roll and he caught a glimpse of blood red incisors and a hand where his head had been before he shot out of the roll and bolted towards the edge of the roof.

If he could get to the alley he could buy himself more time. Keep the chase going.

He was slammed to the roof, his breath forced out of him and gravel biting into his chin and the palms of his hands. The backpack was wrenched off, his arms and shoulders protesting the abrupt angle.

He lashed out before he caught his breath. His foot hit what he thought was a thigh and his elbow got a few ribs, making the man above him grunt. 

Like hell he’d make this easy for him. 

They both knew he’d give in, it was a part of the signed and agreed to sub-clause afterall, but he’d make him work for it. 

Long fingers circled his neck from behind and tightened, the metal claws screeching against the ground near Shouta’s face. What little breath he had managed to regain was restricted. 

He gasped, hands flying to paw at the grip. 

In his distraction, his legs were kicked apart and he felt a heavy weight settle on the back of his thighs. 

He was pinned. 

Fuck he was so turned on.

The weight shifted and something long and hard pressed into the cleft of his ass and slowly rutted in a dragging tease of what was to come. 

The push and pull was maddening. His clothing chafed with the movement and he squirmed as much as he was allowed. 

The pace never quickened. 

Goddamnit. He’s in that kind of mood tonight. He wanted to hear Shouta ask for it. To beg.

He held out for as long as he could, desperation shooting through him as each press from above ground his achingly hard dick into the unforgiving surface of the roof.

The wolf had to be getting close to breaking. He’d never held out this long after capturing Shouta before. Maybe if he could keep it together for a few more minutes, he could avoid having to-

A hum broke past the rushing in Shouta’s ears. It was a casual sound, low enough for only him to hear. Dropping and rising in a melody that pulsed through him and made his hair stand on end. 

Shouta’s blood turned to ice. It was a threat. 

Only now, after being chased across the city and pinned to the harsh concrete of the roof, did he truly feel cornered. 

The humming told Shouta he’d be trapped here, on the edge with no relief, for as long as it took. 

Until Shouta gave the wolf what he wanted.

He snapped.

“Fuck! Fuck me! Please love, just fuck me already.” It came out hoarse, his abused throat struggling to speak.

The humming turned smug and the weight on his thighs shifted.

Shouta’s shirt had ridden up in the tussle and he shivered as cold steel slid across his exposed skin. A loud rip and his ass was exposed to the cool air and the predator on top of him.

The wolf mounted him without preamble. The prep Shouta had done before the party was barely sufficient as his husband's dick slammed into him.

The pace he set was brutal and Shouta’s hands scrabbled across the roof, instinctively trying to get away. But between the hand clamped on his neck and the other gripping his hip, he was trapped.

He could only take it.

Wet slapping overtook the sounds of the city beyond. Unable to stop himself, Shouta’s aching gasps echoed through the night, an occasional groan from above adding to their symphony.

He felt every inch of his husband's cock as he pulled out till only the head was left before punching back in. 

Over and over and over. 

The rhythm was constant, never letting Shouta catch his breath or allowing his dick a reprieve from grating against his pants and the roof. 

Shouta gasped and gulped in air as his neck was released. The black spots that’d been dancing in the corner of his vision receded. 

The immense pressure in his ass disappeared and the weight lifted from his thighs. But before he could even string together two thoughts of concern beyond being upset by the sudden emptiness, his hips were hoisted up and the wolf plunged back in.

His spine bowed and his shoulders dropped to the concrete. He couldn’t support himself against the onslaught of pleasure. Sharp hip bones battered his ass and the abrupt change in position angled the thrusts just right that fireworks exploded behind his eyes.

“Ngh- yes!” He groaned, his voice rough. “Right-ah-there, don’t stop. Hng-don’t you dare stop. Fuck, fuck. Ah, don’t stop.”

The wolf gave no acknowledgement but continued fucking into Shouta like he could punch him through the roof if he tried hard enough.

Shouta was consumed. Zaps of pleasure ricocheted through every nerve, the thrill of the illicitness heightening every sensation. The bruising hold at his hips was the only tether he had as he hurtled towards the edge of oblivion. 

“‘M close, ‘m so close. Ah-fuck. Close love, please, fuck-hng-fuck me HA-harder!”

The hips stuttered for a split second before kicking into an impossibly fast pace. 

His vision sparked and his orgasm slammed through him, nearly blacking out as he came in his pants, untouched. With a bitten off howl, the wolf followed, burying himself in Shouta’s ass and spilling deep inside him.

Shouta panted into the roof, dark hair sticking to his sweaty face and cheek numb where it rested on the concrete.

A distant train rumbled and a song stuttered out of a radio nearby. Sirens wailed blocks away.

There was a small clatter beside him and then arms weaved their way under Shouta’s chest and he was lifted gently. He squirmed when the dick inside him slid deeper as he was settled onto firm thighs and Zashi cooed at him.

“It’s okay kitten, I’ve got you. You’re okay. I know, I know. Just give me a moment, I want to feel you a bit longer. You are so perfect. I love feeling you so tight around me, I wish we could stay like this all the time. Just sit you on my dick, right where you belong.”

Shouta dropped his head back on Zashi’s shoulder, letting his ramblings wash over him as he was held tight against a strong chest. 

Small licks and teasing nips trailed up his exposed neck and the bruises that were no doubt already forming got light kisses. 

Eventually the ability to think returned to Shouta and he found himself dearly wishing he could tangle his fingers in Zashi’s hair. 

It took him a moment to gain purchase on the hood and cap as his whole body was still coming back online, but he finally gripped enough fabric and tugged it away.

“Ouch!”

Maybe there had been some hair in that handful but it didn’t matter. With a sigh, Shouta buried his face in the soft hair that tumbled out.

“God, I can’t be mad at you when you act this cute.”

“‘M not cute.” He mumbled. 

“Sure kitten.”

They stayed like that a few minutes more, caught up in existing together, sharing the same space and being so intimately connected.

But eventually Shouta’s muscles started protesting loudly enough he couldn’t ignore them anymore. He grunted. 

Zashi shifted obligingly, gingerly lifting Shouta off his lap and onto his side on the roof. A zip and some rustling and then Zashi was back, wet wipes in hand and he began gently cleaning them both up.

An uncapped water bottle was deposited in front of his face, interrupting his bleary perusal of the skyline. He shifted enough to not waterboard himself and got a few sips in before Zashi descended with the first aid kit.

He gently wiped off the blood from Shouta’s lips and chin and dabbed antiseptic on it. He did the same with the tiny scratches on Shouta’s cheek from the loose pebbles he’d been pressed into.

“Anywhere else?”

Shouta ran a quick systems check. 

“No other skin broken. Though you made a good try at my neck. Shoulders, lower back, and ass are going to be sore tomorrow though.”

Hizashi nodded. “We’ll get you some pain killers when we get back home.”

He fussed over him a bit more before Shouta found the will to push himself up onto his elbow. 

“I’ll be alright Zash, you can finish when we get home. Rooftops aren’t ideal for aftercare.”

Begrudgingly Zashi conceded the point and started rooting around in the backpack again.

“You packed an extra pair of pants right?”

“Of course.”

“Ya sure?”

“Yes. After that time with the slime villain I made sure to always pack an extra…” 

Except he hadn’t. It was coming back to him now. He’d been folding them when Brick, their ginger idiot of a cat, had gotten stuck in the trash can again and wailed loud enough that Shouta had thought Zashi had come home early.

After rescuing the dumb thing, he’d just thrown his folded clothes into the closet and not the backpack that had been sitting right at the foot of the bed. 

Which left him here. With no change of pants.

“Fuck.”

“Hm.”

“Why did you have to tear my pants?” He groaned, falling back to the roof and throwing an arm over his eyes. “You can unbutton pants in two seconds flat, it didn’t save any time tearing them off!”

“I’m sorry!” Zashi said, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. “I’ve been horny all night watching you parade around in your stupid button up and nice jeans! You know I don’t think well when you flash your muscles at me like that!”

Shouta glared at him anyway. 

“You’ll have to leave me up here.”

“What?”

“I can’t walk back to the car like this. I refuse to be arrested for public indecency. I would rather die than have that be the reason I get thrown into Tartarus.”

“Oh my god, they don’t put people into Tartarus for showing ass in public.”

“Just leave me. It’s not a bad rooftop for a final resting place. Please visit with flowers every year.”

“I can’t believe our friends say I’m the dramatic one when you act like this. Just tie your shirt around your waist, you closeted theater kid.”

“I am not closeted.” He grumbled as he slowly tugged off his shirt as his muscles cried out. Good lord, he’d need to stretch tomorrow. Or today? What time was it even?

“Thank god you clarified. I never would have known, what with my dick being in your-”

Shouta whacked him with his shirt and Zashi chuckled at him.

They finished packing up and hobbled their way off the roof. Shouta had it worse but Zashi was stiffening up as well, his knees having taken a beating. They managed to get down with minimal swearing and began the trek back to the car, Shouta keeping an eye out for any cameras and nervously watching the dark windows and doorways they passed.

He really did not want to have to explain a public indecency charge to his friends. Or to Nedzu.

“For fucks sake Sho, it’s like four in the morning. No one’s going to call 110 on you for walking around without a shirt on. If anything they’d thank you and ask to cop a feel. It’s not everyday someone gets to see a Greek statue come to life.”

Shouta crossed his arms over his bare chest and frowned even though his cheeks warmed.

“This is your fault! I can’t believe you ripped my pants.”

“And I can’t believe you’re still upset about it. You’re the one who wanted to be in charge of preparations. It’s not my fault you missed something.”

He was right. But Shouta was becoming aware of something rattling around inside him. He wasn’t sure when it had started but the feeling was creeping steadily forwards, ramping up his anxiety. So he did what he did best when faced with an unknown emotion. 

Double down and fire back.

“Fine. Have fun talking about your ginormous crush on Fenrir once Nem and Snipe see tonight's show on the news.”

“Oh right.” Zashi snapped his fingers as if he just remembered something. “Thank you for reminding me why you’re on the couch for another week. I can’t believe you said that! You know they don’t let shit like that go!”

“Needed to misdirect somehow.”

“You had literally any other option besides me having a crush on myself!”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know! I’ve matured-” Shouta scoffed. Hizashi stuck a spit soaked finger in his ear. 

“I have! Maybe I outgrew my ‘crushing on vigilantes’ phase, or that as a more seasoned pro hero, my morals keep me from indulging in it. Or that… that I only find dual wielding axes sexy! Literally anything!”

Shouta shrugged.

“This was funnier.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I know.”

They shuffled in silence, the sky starting to turn more gray than black. With no more distractions, Shouta felt unsteady, reminiscent of the one time he’d been on a boat and when he’d stepped off, the world had swayed beneath his feet. 

Fuck, was he about to drop? That hadn’t happened in years and that hadn’t been their most intense session by a long shot. What was wrong with him?

“Was my present better than the book?”

“What?”

Shouta didn’t speak. The question had slipped out, hovering in the gray air between them before it had even formed as a conscious thought in his head.

Zashi stepped in front of him, eyes searching his face. Shouta stared back, unsure of what Zashi would see. Unsure of what he was feeling.

“Oh Sho, of course it was.” 

Warm hands cupped his face and tilted it so they rested foreheads together. Shouta closed his eyes and breathed in Zashi’s scent.

“It’s just a book. An antique, highly coveted and ridiculously expensive book that will be placed on our shelf next to My Darling, but still just a book.” 

Soft kisses peppered across his cheeks, the wisps of Zashi’s mustache tickling his skin.

“An old book, nothing more than dirt compared to you. You are half of my soul Sho. I made my vows prepared to die rather than hurt you and nothing has changed.” 

Shouta opened his eyes to see Zashi staring at him with conviction so intense it nearly melted him into a puddle. 

“If you asked, I would burn that book this very moment. You are the only thing that matters to me in this world and I would do anything for you. You’re mine Sho. Forever.”

Like pouring cement, Hizashi’s words filled the infinitesimal cracks that had formed when Shouta wasn’t looking and grounded that damn rattling feeling. His face flamed but he met Zashi’s gaze head on and nodded. Zashi nodded back before gently kissing him, mindful of his cut lip.

“Come on. I need to get you in the bath before I freak out.”

They hurried back, mindful of their current physical limits but knowing that if they were out any longer, either one of them could drop. 

Especially since Shouta had expressed a fraction of doubt towards Hizashi’s affections. What am I, a hormonal teenager? He’d watched Zashi flirt with dozens of men before and it’d never bothered him in the slightest. So why was uncertainty rearing its head now?

To bolster them both, Hizashi kept up a quiet litany of affirmations as they drove home, his voice keeping them both grounded and reassured. And Shouta did his part, answering clearly and without hesitation when Zashi asked if he was okay, or if he felt any pain, or if he needed anything.

He was promptly deposited into the bath when they got home, and he let the scalding water soak into his muscles as Zashi bathed him and fed him a light snack.

Their aftercare routine differed little between the two of them. If Shouta had been the one to dominate, he would've cared for Hizashi much the same. It was nice to know what to expect, both as the recipient and the giver. 

He nearly dropped off to sleep as Zashi’s long fingers carded shampoo through his hair but his voice brought him back from the brink.

“Are you jealous of Shirogane?”

Shouta trailed a finger through the water as he mulled it over. 

“I’m not. I don’t think.”

“Terribly convincing Sho.”

He flicked water at him.

“I’ve never been jealous of the men you flirt with. You do it for fun and come home to me. And if it is more serious, we discuss it and decide together what to do. So it’s illogical to be jealous of the attention you give Shirogane.”

Hizashi scraped his nails across his scalp and if Shouta could purr he’d be vibrating the walls down. 

“If it’s not that, then it’s something else. Something to do with the book?”

Shouta deflated, slipping down into the tub until his chin hit the water. 

“Seems that way.”

“And…?.”

“I don’t know Zash.”

“Hmmm. Okay. You ruminate on it and get back to me, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

With a gentle push, Zashi sent Shouta under the water to rinse out the suds. He popped back up to find Zashi undressed fully and stepping into the space between his legs. 

“Wha-? Watch your knees!” 

Water sloshed over the side of the tub. Zashi tutted and maneuvered them both so they were chest to chest, Zashi’s legs over Shouta’s thighs and feet tucked behind. He hung his arms around his shoulders in a loose hug and Shouta automatically reciprocated, palming the small of Zashi’s back and tracing the dimples there. 

“This is new.”

“We needed more touch. Grounding or whatever.”

Shouta wasn’t complaining. They nuzzled together for a few moments before Zashi leaned back and his hands threaded through Shouta’s hair. 

The heat of the bath had caused beads of sweat to line Zashi’s temple and Shouta idly thumbed them away. 

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

Guess he wasn’t the only one fighting sleep. He nudged him with his knee and Zashi's eyes cracked open.

“Why were you upset at the bar?”

“Oh that. It was nothing. Nem called Shirogane a nickname and he didn’t react or get mad. Which is like, fine, he’s started calling me Yamada so that’s progress! But I don’t know. I don’t know why it pissed me off.”

Shouta coaxed his sluggish mind into action, trying to parse out his husband's feelings since his own were being difficult.

“You feel like Nem one upped you on the friendship scale. Like how he said yes to me.”

A warm weight settled on his shoulder as Zashi slumped into him. 

“Ugh! I guess! That sounds so lame though.”

“It’s to be expected.”

“Gee, thanks.” The reply was muffled since Zashi’s head wedged into his shoulder.

“What I meant,” he said, tugging on a hunk of blond hair before smoothing his hand down his spine. “Was that Shirogane is the first person not to fold like wet tissue paper because you winked in their direction. You’re not used to resistance.” 

“You resisted pretty hard.” Zashi pointed out, prodding him in the side. Shouta shrugged him off, pushing him back into a sitting position so they were looking at each other.

“You led with fists, not flirting back then.” 

“Same difference.” Hizashi shrugged before pausing mid-motion, a gleam in his eye. Shouta quickly grabbed his chin and shook it.

“No. Stop. Stop that thought. You are not allowed to punch Shirogane.”

“But Shooooo!”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“It worked on you.” He said grumpily.

“And we’re both masochists. Shirogane isn’t.”

“What if I ask him and he says yes?” 

“If it’s consensual, fine. Don’t come crying to me when he breaks your wrist.”

“I won’t.” Zashi said gleefully. He seemed enthralled with the idea of asking Shirogane to spar and Shouta left him to it, relaxing back into the bath. 

Idle fingers traced his scars as Zashi schemed and they soaked in silence for a few minutes longer. The water hadn’t turned cool by the time Zashi pulled the plug but apparently Shouta had been slowly sinking and getting “too close to drowning himself, for god's sake Sho, I’m too young and beautiful to be a widow!” 

He dried them both off and they finished their nighttime routines separately. Shouta finished first as he always did since he didn’t use dozens of products on his skin and slid under the covers with satisfaction. A patter of feet and the cats lept to join him and he enjoyed their rumblings as they kneaded his chest and legs.

Zashi was beside him in record time, disrupting the cat's biscuit making line up and immediately glomming onto him like an octopus, all arms and legs.

They settled, breathing deep and listening to their hearts sync as the morning sun trickled in under the curtains. They fell asleep like that, tangled together with the cats at their knees.

Chapter Text

Sho didn’t lose his limp until Sunday evening and Hizashi enjoyed every second with a deep satisfaction. Judging by the plethora of small objects chucked his way every time Sho saw his smirk, he was not as amused.

Somehow they stumbled through their weekend patrols without further injury, to themselves or others, and it was with great relief they showed up to UA for a day of peaceful office work, no students, and plenty of sitting down.

Hizashi still had plenty to keep him distracted though as the bruising on Sho’s neck hadn’t faded. 

Multiple times he caught himself staring at his neck, imagining their shape and color, hidden as they were beneath the capture scarf. Sho had a permanent blush dusting his cheeks under the weight of Hizashi’s gaze even though he was studiously ignoring him.

He really should stop. Even though the other teachers were caught up in their work, someone would eventually notice. Which would lead to questions and unrelenting teasing and end with Sho murdering him.

But remembering the feel of his throat beneath his fingers and watching him squirm under the weight of his gaze was so much more entertaining than grading another English test.

After another lingering look, he turned to go back to grading when he found he was already being watched. 

Ah shit.  

If he was fast, he could shoot off an email to his executor with his gravestone quote. He’d finalized it weeks ago but hadn’t gotten around to sending it. Nothing like impending death to rearrange priorities.

Shirogane didn’t seem to be in a teasing mood though. All he did was raise an eyebrow while looking between them pointedly.

Shrugging, Hizashi responded with a coy smile. It’s not like Shirogane could see through layers of kevlar threaded cloth. And now that he knew they were together, Hizashi wasn’t about to hide the fact that he was infatuated with Sho from him.

With a roll of his eyes, Shirogane turned back to his work and Hizashi followed suit.

Beyond the distraction of Sho, Hizashi loved days like these. With no students or classes, all the teachers were able to gather in the teachers room and work side by side for hours. 

Small conversations would pick up and drop off and there was a constant flow of traffic in and out of the kitchenette as they snagged snacks or refills of coffee. The news was on in the background, almost becoming white noise as the reporter talked about another attack by Fenrir over the weekend.

Thank god Nemuri was distracted by her conversation with Cementoss and that Snipe and Vlad had their heads down and were focusing on grading. He wasn’t ready to have to play the part of lovestruck idiot yet.

The only person who was really watching was Ringleader, papers forgotten on his desk as his eyes stayed glued to the screen. 

He’d been unusually quiet all morning. Only offering a ‘good morning’ when he arrived at his usual time and settling in at his desk with no uncouth comments or borderline disrespectful jokes.

Well, Hizashi wasn’t about to question a good thing. He sighed and stretched, reaching towards the ceiling, making his spine bow with the movement. His shirt rode up as he twisted to each side, the resulting pops along his spine bringing much needed relief.

He shook himself back down and glanced towards Sho. Two pairs of eyes dropped to their desks as he did and he smirked. Subtle.

“We interrupt this broadcast with a breaking news report-”

The TV was suddenly blaring and everyone jumped at the intrusion.

Ringleader was standing at his desk, the remote in his hand pointed at the screen and ignoring all the calls to turn it down.

“-fact checkers here at the NHHK have just confirmed a shocking report given to us by an anonymous source regarding a threat to our very own hero students at UA.”

The casual air evaporated. Teachers throughout the room jumped to their feet, poised and ready for whatever threat was coming. 

Hizashi remained seated in confusion. How could the news know about a threat before Nedzu? And the students aren’t even here so it can’t be an attack on the campus. 

“It has been confirmed that the teacher hired at the beginning of this semester, a thirty-six year old male called Neyan Shirogane, is not a licensed pro hero. This alone is barely a forgivable offense but it was also revealed that Shirogane is in fact, quirkless.” 

Hizashi’s lungs cried out. He’d stopped breathing. The calm he had found after their extracurricular night vanished. He took a staggering breath as a loud rushing sound built up behind his ears. He was thrust back under the brilliant lights of the city at night as he and Shirogane cavalierly discussed quirkless law and the horrendous discrimination they faced. 

How had he talked so lightly about a horrific reality he faced everyday? 

How had Hizashi not noticed? 

None of them had bothered to ask about his quirk after that first day because for one, he clearly didn’t want to talk about it, but also because it didn’t matter to them. 

With the obvious exception, all the teachers of UA waited for someone to demonstrate their worth before they formed an opinion of them and Shirogane had proven to be a competent teacher and a considerate coworker. 

And how important were quirks anyway?! A lot of people have quirks unsuitable for their job or have quirks that just don’t do much at all. Not even accounting for all the quirks that are prematurely labeled as villainous! Actually, why should anyone have to disclose their quirk at all? It’s outrageous! If Hizashi had let others stupid beliefs about his quirk guide his actions, he’d have been a villain twice over! The same went for Sho.

The idiots on screen were still talking.

“-has been the subject of a few controversies over his tenure as principal of this prestigious school, including his outspoken support of RMRA, or Reasonable Mutant Rights Activists. Such opinions have been overlooked in the past due to the number of powerful alumni that have graduated from UA, including but not limited to Endeavor, Best Jeanist, and of course, All Might.”

The reporter shuffled the blank papers in front of him while staring down the barrel of the camera, exaggerated concern across his face.

"This makes his new hiring decision all the more suspect. We’ve been informed that the Hero Commission offered plenty of capable candidates for the position over the course of its vacancy, a period of three years. These candidates included pro heroes such as Mr. Magnate and Verity.”

Hizashi scoffed. Capable my ass . The Commission just wanted more spies within the halls of UA. They hated not being in control of the new generations of heroes.

“Is Principal Nedzu’s mind finally betraying his age with this new hire? Or is he being blackmailed or bribed? Was he tricked into hiring a quirkless? What underhanded methods has Shirogane used to secure this position of influence over our budding heroes of the future?”

So much for objective reporting. NHHK was supposed to be the poster child of neutrality! They were constantly lauded for their ability to present a story with just the facts without forging a narrative to fit a story. 

But that didn’t matter when it came to a quirkless person.

“We go now to our field agent, Yuri Yamazaki, who is at the gates of UA now. Yamazaki, have you spoken to the principal about his hiring decision?”

The feed cut to the street view of the UA gates.

“Thank you Hazuki. As of yet I have not been allowed access onto the school grounds but already we are seeing people approach the gates. They are just as concerned as we are about this hiring decision and they want answers. While we wait to hear from the principal, I will be interviewing those who’ve come-” 

The TV turned off. Nedzu stood in the doorway to the teachers room, his whiskers quivering. He was pissed.

“Is it true?” 

The question was spoken to the room at large. It didn’t matter who said it, they were all thinking it. Hizashi looked to Shirogane. He was still facing the TV, a furrow between his brows and idly twirling his pink pen.

Nedzu spoke for him.

“Whether it’s true or not is irrelevant. There is no mandate within the hiring process of UA that requires a teacher to have a quirk, something you all are aware of. Honestly. I expected better.”

“What do you mean sir?” Snipe asked. Nedzu’s eyes narrowed as they swept across them all.

“It stands to reason that the anonymous source is in this room. Someone who is dissatisfied with the way I run this school and felt the need to air our private affairs publicly.”

Everyone shifted uneasily. A chair squeaked and someone coughed. Who among them would do something like that?

Hizashi jolted as a memory snapped into place. He shot to his feet and pointed accusingly at Ringleader.

“You were at the bar!” He shouted. “You got mad that Shirogane went out with us and not you and you did this as revenge!” Another memory fell into place. “And you threatened him before that didn’t you! That morning when you cornered him, were you threatening to expose him if he didn’t go out with you?”    

Ringleader leaned back in his chair, legs spread and hands tucked behind his head, the picture of arrogance. 

“Sounds like a lot of assumptions Yamada, but do you have proof?” 

“Proof? Proof?! Shirogane!” He whirled towards him. “He threatened you, right?”

Turning slowly from the TV, he pushed his glasses up and shook his head, regret plain on his face.

“I’m sorry Yamada, I really couldn’t say. I wasn’t joking when I said I wasn’t listening to him.”

A buzzing came from Shirogane’s bag and he startled for a moment before reaching in and fishing out a flip phone. More buzzing sounded off and he quickly flicked it open and started replying to what looked like an onslaught of messages.

Hizashi whirled back to Nedzu.

“It doesn’t matter, I know that’s what happened!”

“I’m sorry, Present Mic, but without proof, there is nothing we can do. But I didn’t come here for us to point fingers and pass blame. That will come later I’m sure. I am here for Shirogane. Come, we need to discuss your options.”

Anger blazed through him.

“No! You can’t fire him!”

“Hizashi, calm down-”

“No! Shouta, you know this is ridiculous, it doesn’t fucking matter if he’s quirkless. So far all his student’s have passed their exam with all A’s! No other teacher has ever managed that!”

“We haven’t even posted grades yet, how does he know that?” Cementoss whispered to Nem. 

“He’s a nosy bitch, that’s why.”

“Zash-”

“Don’t “Zash” me, you know it’s not right! Nedzu if you fire him-”

“Yamada.”

A cool voice at his side slammed his rage to a halt. Shirogane stood beside him, close enough that Hizashi caught a whiff of his cologne, something warm and spicy. 

“It’s okay. Nothing’s been decided. Principal Nedzu said there are options. I’m sure only one of which is my position being terminated.”

Hizashi took three deep breaths under Shirogane’s calm gaze and the anxiety that swept through him receded.

“Right. You’re right. Sorry for losing it for a second.”

“It’s okay. I appreciate you being ready to fight for me.”

“Of course! I’ll even fight the press if you want! They can hardly slander you if their ears are bleeding!”

“No, Zashi.” Shouta sighed. 

“Yes, Zashi.” He grinned back. 

“Enough. Let’s go Shirogane. Present Mic, we’ll talk later about your outburst.”

Ah fuck. 

“Everyone, back to work please. And a reminder that there is no fighting on school grounds unless it is a pre-arranged sparring session within the campus gyms. You will not like the consequences if you break that rule.”

Right, slide 23. The pair left and no one knew what to do with themselves. Most migrated back to their desks to stare mindlessly at the papers in front of them. Ringleader returned to grading with a smug look on his stupid face.

Hizashi knew he was right. He didn’t have proof but he knew he was right. How could he find it? He could probably convince Nedzu to let him into the security room but would Ringleader have spoken loud enough to be picked up by the mic? Was there any cameras in that corner to begin with? He couldn’t remember. Him being at the bar wouldn’t be proof of anything but it could corroborate the story. So cameras at the bar. Sho could pull the footage easily enough. Then they could figure out who to politely ask at NHHK about the identity of the anonymous tipper and-

A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his spiral. Sho was kneeling beside him, watching him carefully. Hizashi’s eyes caught on a purpling bruise peeking out from under his scarf before snapping up. Sho tilted his head towards the door and Hizashi nodded. 

They walked in silence until they reached the school quad, a wide open space that was deserted without the students. No one could sneak up and eavesdrop on them here. 

“What was that about Zash?” Shouta muttered. Hizashi started pacing in short bursts, walking away from Sho before returning over and over.

“I don’t know! I just, I don’t know, panicked. On the way to karaoke he and I had a pretty intense discussion on quirkless laws and how absolutely shitty they are but it was all abstract ya know? We were making jokes and silly hypotheses about it! And then that asshole of a reporter just told the whole of Japan that Shirogane is quirkless and it pretty rapidly recontextualized it and I realized how fucked Shirogane’s life would be if he got fired for something he has no control over and I- I panicked.”

Sho nodded and let him pace a few laps. 

“And the thing with Ringleader?”

Hizashi spun and flung his hands up.

“It’s so obvious it was him Sho! He hates that Shirogane won’t give him the time of day and retaliated.”

“But how did he get that information? Quirk registration papers are kept private by the government unless you’re a hero. Stuff like that doesn’t show up on a quick search. I would have had to do some serious hacking to find them when I did my initial sweep.”

“What the fuck Sho! I told you not to run a background check on him!”

“It was just a surface level one. Had to at least make sure he wasn’t a convicted criminal.”

Hizashi grumbled and continued pacing. He couldn’t begrudge Shouta too much for that. It was practically hardwired into his DNA to research anything and anyone they came into contact with.

“If Ringleader did it, how did he get that information?” Shouta asked.

“I don’t know! Maybe the Commission did the dirty work for him. He’s their spy after all!”

“Maybe. But this would also demonstrate a level of malicious intent on his end we haven’t seen before. He never threatened you for turning him down.”

“Maybe because he knew better than to try.” Hizashi said darkly.

“Maybe.” Sho said slowly, squinting up into the blue sky above. Hizashi stopped pacing and eyed him.

“You don’t believe it was him, do you?”

Shouta shrugged, dropping his gaze to Hizashi.

“I’m just saying it’d be out of character for him. He doesn’t seem capable of that level of research.”

“So he had help!”

“And why are you so convinced it is him?”

Exasperated, Hizashi threw his hands up again. He was going to throw out his shoulder at this rate.

“I just am! No one else in that room would’ve betrayed a fellow teacher like this.”

“All the teachers are heroes with quirks.”

“You don’t trust them?”

“I trust them to do their job and do what’s best for UA and the students. To them, getting rid of Shirogane might be doing just that.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“I know. And Nem and Snipe and Vlad do as well but we aren’t the only ones who work here.”

Pebbles scattered as Hizashi scuffed his feet along the path. A soft breeze shifted the tree leaves above them and shadows danced under foot.

“I don’t like it.” Hizashi sighed.

“You don’t have to. But Zash, just be sure you aren’t being driven by personal feelings.”

“I can hate Ringleader and still be right.”

“Or hate him and be wrong. We won’t know until we have proof.”

“Ugh. I know you’re right but it pisses me off.”

“I’d be surprised if it didn’t. Have you cooled off enough to be in the same room with Ringleader and not bite his head off?”

“Only one way to tell.”

Shouta snorted but shook his head.

“Yes or no Zash. We can go to the gyms instead if you need.”

As much as sparring sounded like a great outlet for the frustration tangled in his chest, he wanted to be near Nedzu's office so he could be one of the first people to know the outcome.

He sighed and deflated.

“Yes I can behave.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

It was still tense when they got back. Nemuri was twirling a strand of her deep purple hair and staring hard at the ceiling. Snipe’s mask kept Hizashi from reading his face, but he could see his knee jostling under his desk. 

No more pleasant chatter. No more teasing Sho.

A dull silence hung heavy over them. A few seemed unaffected. Ecto was diligently working away and Thirteen was munching on a snack in the kitchenette. But everyone else was distracted and sneaking furtive glances towards each other as if trying to suss out how to feel about what had happened.

Dread curled in Hizashi’s stomach as he understood what Sho meant. How many of the other teachers were upset because someone had dug up dirt on a fellow teacher and exposed it to the public? 

And how many of them were upset that Shirogane had hidden something like this from them?

Hizashi’s eyes burned from staring unblinkingly at his computer screen.

They all jumped when the speaker system beeped to life. 

“Present Mic, Eraserhead, and Midnight, please come to my office.”

They were at Nedzu’s door in record time. It swung open as they approached and they entered to see the two of them casually sipping tea.

Though Hizashi could’ve sworn Nedzu used to have a potted plant on his desk and that the couch should’ve had pillows.

Maybe he was misremembering.

Nedzu set down his cup and gestured for them to come in and sit.

“Thank you for joining us. Shirogane and I have worked through the options available and come to an understanding.”

Hizashi raised an eyebrow. After being under Nedzu’s tutelage for more than half his life, he was very familiar with his linguistic mannerisms and fondness for hidden meanings. It didn’t sound like they’d had a pleasant conversation.

Shirogane sipped his tea demurely. 

“We are going to hold a press conference outside the gates this afternoon. I have already reached out to NHHK and other news outlets and they’ve agreed to it. Hopefully this display of cooperation will cool the flames of hostility somewhat.”

“What does this have to do with us sir?” Nem asked, sitting beside Shirogane on the couch. 

“Shirogane will need protection.The crowd is already proving to be on the more aggressive side and having a few pro heroes and fellow teachers as support will do nicely.

“Can we speak to the press? Give them our opinion of Shirogane’s qualifications?” Hizashi asked, sitting on the couch opposite. 

Nedzu’s cool gaze assessed him over his tea cup.

“And why should I trust you to do so after your little display in the teachers room.”

Hizashi ducked his head and swallowed. Right.

“I’m sorry for the immature display. I was caught unawares and let my emotions get the better of me. It won’t happen again.”

“No, it won’t. Being caught unawares is a poor excuse and I have taught you better than that.”

“Yes sir.” Hizashi mumbled. Nem was silently snickering behind her hand and Hizashi flipped her off. When Nedzu wasn’t looking.

“You are right though,” Nedzu mused, swirling his tea. “It would be beneficial to have a coworker's perspective. Kayama, Aizawa, would either of you be willing to speak on Shirogane’s behalf?”

“Of course!” Nem said.

“No.”

Nedzu chittered at Shouta’s response while everyone else gaped. Shirogane didn’t look surprised.

“Seriously?”

“I don’t trust him.”

“So? You can still talk about how great he is with his students or something.”

Sho crossed his arms and shrugged. His jaw was set and his gaze had turned challenging.

Goddamnit. Hizashi knew that look. It was the same look he had after every expulsion or when he chose the movie for movie night and Hizashi begged him to change his mind because why must it always be a shitty horror film! 

He wasn’t going to budge.

“That is alright. I do not expect any of you to speak out for me. It wouldn't reflect well on any pro hero to openly support a quirkless teacher. Eraserhead is only being wise.”

Ooooh, that might do it. A vein in Sho’s temple pulsed and his foot shifted minutely but Nem stepped in before Hizashi got to see Shouta crack.

“Nonsense!” Nemuri cried. “You know how I feel about the treatment of people who are quirkless in our society. I’d be a poor advocate if I didn’t stand with you now.”

“Same here! Nobody else would ever come close to being as qualified for this job, quirked or not!” Hizashi added.

“And what exactly are those qualifications?” Shouta asked.

“He’s already told us Sho.”

“He did? When?”

“In Nedzu’s introduction? The first day he started?”

Shouta gave them a blank look as they stared back in judgement.

“Wow. You really don’t give a shit about people, huh?” Nem teased.

“Language.”

“Sorry sir.”

“You seriously weren’t listening? Sho…” Hizashi trailed off in a sigh. 

He really should have expected this from his husband but he continued to be surprised by his complete disregard for anybody beyond determining if they had a weapon or were an active threat.

“I was listening.” Sho argued. “I just didn’t care to retain what I was hearing.”

“Then you weren’t listening.”

“I just said I was.”

“Listening implies retention you dumb-”

“It’s okay.” Shirogane interrupted, stopping a pissing match between Sho and Nem from escalating. He turned to Shouta. 

“I passed the bar exam over eleven, no… twelve years ago. I have been affiliated with TNT Law Firm since then.

Hizashi watched Shouta’s eyes widen. He’d been just as impressed when he’d first heard that months ago.

TNT Law was a beacon of hope for many people. Their success rate in court was better than their top three closest competitors combined. 

And according to the latest polls, over 70% of their casework was pro bono, surviving off the generosity of a private donor whose only request was that they deal exclusively with underrepresented individuals, the victims of a harsh society of superpowers and villains.

Hizashi always breathed a sigh of relief when a member of TNT Law visited survivors of a villian attack in the hospital or on one memorable occasion, on the curb outside a trampled apartment building, sitting with them as they huddled under a shock blanket.

What made their success even more shocking was the fact they’d only been around for about fifteen years or so. They’d risen meteorically since then and had become a household name synonymous with victory. 

Considering the celebrity status of the TNT lawyers, Hizashi was surprised Shiroganes name hadn’t come up in Shouta’s light research on him. 

And Hizashi hadn’t thought to mention it to him because he’d made the erroneous assumption that his husband knew how to turn on his active listening ears.

“The plan then is as follows. Kayama will talk first. Please discuss what you saw when you sat in on Shirogane’s class and your interactions with him. Then it will be Shirogane’s turn. Aizawa, Yamada, you both will be acting as bodyguards.”

He firmly pointed his tea spoon at them.

“I will be watching. You are authorized to protect Shirogane from any advancement upon his person but you are NOT allowed to preemptively attack based on a feeling or because you do not like the look of an attendant. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir.”

“Yessir.”

“Good. Shirogane, you have not had media training and these people are looking to publicly humiliate you. Are you still comfortable speaking in front of them?”

“I will handle it.” 

“Excellent. For today, you all are excused from your regular duties and may convene elsewhere to plan or relax until it is time. Best of luck.”

Shirogane set his teacup and saucer down on Nedzu’s desk. As he turned to leave, Hizashi saw a smudge of dirt on the sleeve of his sweater. 

He was out the door before Hizashi could comment and they all trooped off after him. By unspoken agreement, they ended up in Hizashi’s classroom.

He took his desk chair while Sho lounged against the blackboard and Nem dropped into the desk closest to the front.

“What a shit show.” Nemuri grumbled. “I’m so sorry you got outed like that Shiro!”

Shirogane looked up from the doorway where he’d stopped, his phone in his hand. 

“Sorry? Oh, it’s fine. Something like this was bound to happen. If you’ll excuse me, I have to take this call.”

He waved it in the air briefly as if to prove he had a caller before stepping out of the room.

“Hi DB. Yes I’m fine-” The door shut, cutting off the rest of the conversation.

“He’s remarkably calm. Considering.” Sho mused, staring at the door. Hizashi threw a piece of chalk at him.

“Enough with your conspiracy theories. We’ll talk about your trust issues another day. Right now we need a game plan. Want to brainstorm your speech Nem?”

“Sure!” She bounced out of the desk and approached the blackboard. She snagged the chalk from Sho and promptly shoved him out of her way. 

Unprepared, he fell to the floor with a curse.

“Alright, I was thinking I’d stick to what I’ve seen and what other teachers have told me. Chronological order too, just to keep it easy to remember. So let’s see, that would mean I’d start…” 

She trailed off into a mutter as she scratched out her strategy on the blackboard, stepping around Sho as needed since he hadn’t bothered getting back up. In fact, it looked like he was about to take a nap.

Hizashi rifled through his desk and tossed him the pillow he kept on hand before turning to Nem and starting to offer suggestions.

Shirogane returned not long after, accidentally stepping on Shouta’s elbow as he went to see what Nem was doing.

“If you want to act like a rug, you’ll be treated like a rug.” He said in response to Sho’s complaining before turning to the board. “What’s all this Kayama? Oh. Wow. This is… a lot.” 

“We’re working on slimming it down but I didn’t want to forget anything important!”

“You should probably take out the bit where I broke Ringleaders wrist. I don’t want to add a ‘violent’ modifier on top of all the other ones.”

“Good point!” She scrubbed it off. . 

“Do you know what you’re going to say?” Hizashi asked, spinning back and forth in his chair, his long legs sprawled out. He thought better if he was moving, even just a tiny bit. 

“I have a few ideas but it will depend on what the crowd is like when I stand before them.”

“Hmm, yeah, handling an angry mob is tricky. You have to feel them out first” 

He recalled his extensive media training and years of radio work. He’d had his fair share of social faux pas throughout all of it and took what lessons he could from them but he still got nervous in front of an aggressive crowd. 

“Sure you don’t want help getting at least an outline? Zashi is pretty much an expert.” Nem said, still concentrating on her bulleted list.

“I know he is but I will be alright. I have faced worse than this.” 

Hizashi couldn’t think of many things worse than an angry mob out for your blood. Individuals could be reasoned with. A crowd was near impossible to sway if they were already worked up.

Nem’s hand flapped in his face.

“Should this point go before or after this, do you think?”

The next few hours were more of the same. Hizashi and Nem brainstorming her speech while Sho napped and Shirogane sat at a desk, caught up in whoever he was texting.

Chapter Text

They heard the crowd before they saw them. Indiscernible chants and loud yells clamored against each other creating a deafening cacophony that grew worse the closer they got to the gate. 

To ensure there were no signs of an immediate threat, Sho went through the gate first. He was the least recognizable hero by far and the noise didn’t shift as he stepped out. There must not have been anybody too threatening because he soon waved Nemuri forward. 

She gave Shirogane a reassuring smile and two thumbs up before squaring her shoulders and stepping out of their sight.

The sound of the crowd shifted when she did, some of the people switching to catcalls and wolf whistles instead of jeers. Hizashi hoped Sho glowered particularly hard at those people. And memorized their faces so they could locate them later and have a discussion about respecting women.

They’d decided that to keep the crowd's attention on Nem and her speech, Shirogane would remain out of sight until it was his turn. 

It left Hizashi to stand with Shirogane, feeling like he was sharing in his final moments before ushering him to the guillotine. Should he get out a bible and ask Shirogane to confess his sins and beg for forgiveness before the end? He’d look good on his knees…

“I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t thinking of anything!” He yelped before catching what Shirogane actually said. “Wait, what?”

He stood next to him, looking remarkably calm, no fiddling of his rings or straightening of his clothes. Not that they would have needed it anyway. As usual, there was not a strand of hair out of place. Seriously, would it kill him to have a bad hair day for ONCE. He’s making the rest of us look bad.

“I am sorry you’ve been put in this position. You’re an incredibly popular hero and public figure about to stand next to a quirkless… blackmailer? I think it was. I would hate for this to ruin your standing.”

Hizashi stared at him, confused. Why on earth was he apologizing? If anything, he should be the one groveling at Shirogane's feet for being a part of the hero society that villainized someone who hadn’t been graced with a quirk. 

“I know you’ve listened to at least one of my podcasts, but have you heard any others? Or listened to my show?”

“I haven’t missed your show for years.”

Hizashi ignored the twist of pleasure in his gut, too focused on making his point.

“So you should know that I have never shied away from calling people out on their quirkist beliefs and offer help and resources to those who need it. I mean seriously, I have a segment every Tuesday night dedicated to addressing common misconceptions regarding quirk disabilities and lack of accommodations in society, mental health issues, and- and just last week I talked about suicide rates among people with “villainous” quirks! And! At this point, I should be sponsored by The Sasha House for all the free advertising I’ve done for them over the years. Honestly, I don’t think there’s a show where I don’t mention them.” 

Hizashi could not thank any higher power enough for The Sasha House. It was a global company that set up shelters for children in as many cities as possible. When one opened up just a few districts over, Hizashi immediately started dropping their name on his show, encouraging any child who felt unsafe to visit them. 

He’d wanted to officially collaborate with them for ages. But the waitlist to volunteer was years out at this point and Hizashi didn’t want to abuse his power (nor have Shouta blackmail anyone) to secure a spot. He’d just have to continue pushing their name and contact information through his show and hope they were listening.

“All this to say, I built my platform on tolerance, understanding, and acceptance. I would lose more followers if I did nothing in your support than I ever would for standing beside you.”  

Shirogane stared at him, his face devoid of any emotion. Hizashi stared back, unintimidated by a blank face after years of marriage to the consummate brick wall of emotions.

Brown eyes dropped and shifted to the side and Shirogane cleared his throat. 

“Well. That is kind of you.”

“It’s what friends are for my guy! Like hell I’d leave you to fend for yourself in front of those vultures!”

“I’m sensing you’re not a fan of the press.”

“After enough exposés and invasive questions about your nonexistent love life, it loses its appeal.”

“Impressive for a nonexistent love life to leave such noticeable hickeys.”

Hizashi barked out a laugh.  

“You saw them? Oooh Sho is gunna kill me, he thought his scarf hid them all.”

“Now that I know, I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner. You both are not subtle.” Shirogane mused, brushing his braid over his shoulder to twirl through his fingers. 

Hizashi scoffed and crossed his arms. “We are too. There hasn’t been a single column or headline about us. For all the world knows, pro heroes Present Mic and Eraserhead are confirmed bachelors.”

“That probably has more to do with your friend's discretion and Shouta’s skill with wiping evidence from the internet than your ability to keep it in your pants around him.”

“So what? It’s hardly my fault Sho is the epitome of all my childhood fantasies of an ideal partner. Of course I’m going to drool over him!”

“Your ideal partner fantasy was a perpetually exhausted feral cat stuffed in a human body?” Shirogane said, incredulity high in his voice. 

“I’m no empath, but I’m sensing a liiiiittle judgement from you.”

“Oh not at all, I assure you. Just concern for your prescription.”

“Which one, the Vyvanse or the Zoloft.”

“Your glasses prescription.”

“Ha!” Hizashi had to slap a hand over his face to keep from blasting the gate down with a quirked laugh. Shirogane grinned. 

“Nah, nah, these babies give me 20/20!” He chuckled, tapping his tinted glasses. “But even without them I could see Sho’s qualities! He’s got these steely eyes that nail you down like pins in a butterfly wing and a drool worthy physique that is, I must say, surprisingly flexible. And most importantly, his general air of harsh indifference for everyone that makes his undivided attention that much more sweet and addicting.” He finished off with an exaggerated swoon.

Shirogane’s eyebrows had slowly risen during his little speech and by the end he was smirking.

“There’s the fanfic author I heard tell about.”

Hizashi wheezed, clutching his chest as he bent in half. So that’s what being hit by a train felt like. 

“Critical hit for psychic damage.” Shirogane chuckled under his breath.

“Was that-was that a DnD reference?”

Shirogane looked surprised. “It was. You play?”

“The group does occasionally. Between all our patrols and jobs we can only play one-shots but I’d love to do a longer campaign sometime.”

“What class do you prefer?”

“Wait, wait, wait, try guessing! I think what class you choose is the best personality test.”

“Better than powerpoint versus stare.” Shirogane agreed as he assessed Hizashi who spun in a mock pirouette for him. It took him a moment to think about it, twirling his braid in thought.

“I’d say either Warlock or Druid.”

“I’m weirdly flattered! I’ve never had anyone guess those. Usually people guess Bard.”

“You use your voice for your job, it’s not all you are. Was I right?”

“Nope! I play as a Barbarian.” Hizashi grinned.

“Huh.” Shirogane’s assessing look turned sharp and Hizashi shivered. He felt like he was about to be eviscerated under those eyes and all his secrets would spill out like blood. 

“What about you?” He threw out hastily.

The distraction worked and Shirogane sighed and dropped his braid.

“I’m a perpetual DM. I “struggle to work cohesively in a team” and during our first game I kept going on side quests without discussing it first or speed running through puzzles or dungeons alone. My family got fed up and now I’m stuck as the DM. But it works out, I’m a good storyteller and love torturing their characters as payback.”

“Family?” Hizashi asked, his voice nearly cracking with the strain of maintaining an even tone. Unfortunately his excitement leaked through and Shirogane clammed up, looking panicked at his slip up. 

Sure he’d mentioned his family when he’d gifted Hizashi the heirloom book but Hizashi had assumed that was only in the sense of ancestors passing down generational artefacts. 

This was the first mention of a current family. Curiosity bubbled beneath his skin, threatening to boil over. 

Shirogane could tell. He was eyeing Hizashi with trepidation and shifting from foot to foot.  

Like a hungry wolf stalking a flagging deer, Hizashi wasn’t kind enough to let such an opening pass. 

“What classes do they play?”

“I don’t- they aren’t-”

Whatever excuses he was trying to stutter out were cut off as the gate pushed open and Shouta stuck his head inside. 

“It’s time.”

Ugh! Of course! Can’t the angry mob see they’re in the middle of something?! Shirogane rushed past him, apparently eager to remove himself from Hizashi’s line of sight.

For his part, he took three deep breaths. Deal with this first. Then you can interro-nope, gently question Shirogane.

Settled enough, Hizashi followed, answering Sho’s eyebrow raise with a slow blink.

He went through first, bracing against the burst of noise as he did. It seemed Nem’s speech hadn’t done much. She gave a weak smile from where she stood on the small stage as Hizashi joined her. He wanted to squeeze her hand in reassurance but there were too many eyes. 

The noise pitched. Shirogane must have stepped out. Hizashi kept his attention zeroed in on the crowd, watching for any projectiles or anybody preparing to be stupid. 

It’d been enough time since the news broke that signs had been made. It was all sloppy writing on ripped cardboard or cheap poster board but the words were still gut-wrenching.       

QUIRKLESS = WORTHLESS

PROTECT OUR KIDS 

ONLY HEROES TEACH HEROES

RESIGN!!

Fine, he’ll admit it. It was probably a good idea that Hizashi didn’t stand behind the mic. He’d deafen the whole block in a heartbeat. 

In his periphery he saw Shirogane at the podium. He was gazing out into the sea of hate. At the microphones and cameras being shoved forward, at people demanding he apologize for lying, to step down from his job and go be worthless where they couldn’t see. 

A few people did seem puzzled. NHHK hadn’t released any photos of Shirogane so they’d obviously worked up an image of a conniving weakling, someone to fit the narrative of what a blackmailing quirkless person should be.

But he stood before them with a straight back, tidy and well dressed, his sweater a beautiful blend of purples in a geometric pattern. 

He barely looked capable of any crime, let alone one such as blackmail.

The anger grew the longer Shirogane stood before them not speaking. Hizashi turned a smidge to better see him while still keeping an eye on the crowd. Both his hands were on the podium and his right pointer finger had begun a slow, steady tap. 

He continued to look at the people before him, taking his time with each sneering face. He reached the end of the tight half circle that had formed around the podium and turned back to the center. 

Everything stopped. 

The silence seemed explosive after their screams but no one was capable of raising their voice anymore as they ducked their heads in contrition.

Shirogane had done nothing but tilt his head and tighten his lips.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Even though whatever Shirogane had done wasn’t directed at him, Hizashi still felt it. He was suddenly seven again, hunched in front of his first foster mom, sniffling towards his feet as she scolded him for breaking her favorite vase after he’d accidently slipped his quirk into a peal of laughter.

Nem took a shaky breath at his side, obviously feeling the phantom effect of parental disappointment as well. He snuck a glance to his left. Sho was fine.

“Shame on you.” 

Tap.

Tap. 

Tap.

“Shame on all of you.” 

Hizashi swore he saw one or two people choking back tears.

“Can any one of you tell me how long it has been since quirks manifested?”

Embarrassment kept everyone’s heads down, avoiding eye contact with Shirogane like students being asked to go to the board to solve an equation.

“I asked a question.” Shirogane’s voice was ice cold.

“A hundred years?” A tentative answer came from near the back. Shirogane nodded. The tension lessened a fraction at the barest hint of approval.

“Correct. Now one hundred years is a long time, roughly four generations of families. And can anyone tell me when pro heroes came to be more prominent within that time frame?”

Hizashi had never thought of talking to the press like he was lecturing his student’s. Maybe he needed to take notes from Shirogane.

“Wasn’t it like, fifty years ago?” Another voice spoke up.

“Close. It was seventy four years ago. In Japan, the Hero Commission was founded and many others quickly followed suit around the world. And then hero schools were created, built to train and turn out fresh heroes every year. 

So much can happen in a hundred years, so much within four generations. Parents passing down their quirked genetics leading to a proliferation of powers. An establishment of heroes versus villains that is now the backbone of our society. Such a long time.”

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

“It makes one wonder how anyone could survive without a quirk. How can someone without the luck to have the right genetic sequence that manifests into a power keep up with this ever changing world? What could someone like that, someone who did not win the genetic lottery, ever have to offer? They must be weak. Stupid. Genetic rejects of a time long past. Only good for being targets of hate and for filling graves.”

They all looked conflicted. Everything they’d been told agreed with what Shirogane was saying. Of course quirkless people didn’t have anything to offer society. But they could sense that Shirogane was trying to prove a different point and they didn’t want to be called out for their discrimination so they shuffled awkwardly in place and kept their heads down.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

“One hundred years. Four generations of quirks. Seventy four years since the birth of heroes as we know it now. We agree on this. So, a new question. How long has humanity been around?”

Shrugs and vague looks. Even if they knew, no one wanted to interrupt.

“That was a trick question, I’ll admit. The answer varies depending on your religion or which scientist you ask. But with fossils and DNA, scientists can agree on a timeline of about three hundred thousand years ago. That is when Homo sapiens started showing behavioral traits that speak of a culture. Three hundred thousand years. I’ll do that math for you. That’s twelve thousand generations of families.”

Shirogane was turning to look around the half circle, making eye contact with as many people as he could and holding it till they looked away or blinked. Asserting dominance. 

“I will not deny that in certain situations, having a quirk will give you an advantage. And I will not deny that humanity has come this far because of change and progress and accepting new normals.

But the weight of history cannot be ignored. Twelve thousand generations of people with plain, regular DNA. It was not a group of quirked people who sent the first man to the moon. There was not a quirked person among those who stormed the beaches of Normandy, nor in the forces at the Battle of Sekigahara.”

Shirogane lifted his hands, bringing up a finger for each name he listed off.

“Murasaki Shikibu, Marie Curie, Amelia Earhart, Rosa Parks, Harriet Tubman, Jane Austen, Malala Yousafzai. Aristotle, William Shakespeare, Charles Darwin.

People of history! That have left behind a legacy of profound service, academic pursuits, and inspiring artistry. And there have been so many others, unnamed and forgotten. Mothers, fathers, children, heroes. Millions of people throughout three hundred thousand years and not a single one of them had a quirk!

Twelve thousand generations! People in this world today with no genetic marker for a quirk are not worthless! They are not rejects, they are not stupid, or weak, or pathetic!

They are humans! Born of a long history of incredible people who have done spectacular things. To deny them full rights as citizens is to betray the weight of human history! To disregard centuries of human creativity, ingenuity, and power is a criminal act!” Shirogane banged a hand down like a gavel, a gunshot in the silence.

Hizashi felt a vicious pride rise in him, a connection to the millions of humans before him flooding his veins.

He could tell the crowd was in a similar way. People who’d been yelling slurs only moments ago were nodding along, their faces shining with joy at their shared past. Signs were being trodden underfoot, long since dropped.

One more sentence, and Shirogane could have this crowd storming the doors of the Commission.

But instead, Hizashi watched as Shirogane settled back and dropped his shoulders, the collective mood sombering immediately. 

“Yes. I am teaching Hero Law at UA. I am a certified lawyer and have been for fifteen years. I did not blackmail or swindle my way into that certification nor did I do anything malicious beyond having an interview with Principal Nedzu for my teaching position. And yes. I do not have a quirk.”

He held the gaze of the crowd daring them to speak.  

“But there is not a single candidate that the Hero Commission offered that was more qualified for this position than me. The NHHK gave Mr. Magnate and Verity as examples. Both of these heroes have been on the losing side of more court cases than any respectable hero should be. You expect heroes who continuously and blatantly disregard the law to teach it? Your children, the prospective heroes that are being taught within these walls, deserve better than that. 

I, am better than that. When I was hired by Principal Nedzu I gave him a vow, one that I will share with you now. I will cherish and protect each and every student that passes through my classroom and use my years of experience to ensure that all of them will leave with a thorough, working knowledge of Hero Law and its many applications.”

Shirogane paused. Reporters scribbled furiously on their notepads and everyone else stood, waiting for what was next.

“I will not be taking questions.”

The spell broke. People shifted and murmured to each other as Shirogane stepped back from the podium. Hizashi saw him clasp his hands behind his back. They were shaking.

The noise was rising once again and Hizashi was about to drag Shirogane back to safety when-

“I’d like to say something!” 

The crowd parted. A figure -a teenager?- was bent over, panting as if they’d run for miles. They straightened and the crowd gasped.

It was Mirio Togata, the first year champion of the sports festival.  

Running up behind him Hizashi recognized more students, a mix of first, second, and third years.

The group of them strode through the crowd and approached the podium where Nemuri ushered them on since Shirogane had frozen at Mirio’s outburst.

“Thank you.” Mirio bowed to the audience. “Hi! My name is Mirio! I am a first year student at UA! I was fortunate enough to win first place at the sports festival this year! Thank you to everyone who cheered for me!” 

Good lord that kid was peppy. He made Hizashi feel like a fake with all that energy. But after the intro he dimmed the megawatt smile a bit and turned serious.

“While Hero Law isn’t a class that helps with the sports festival, it is a mandatory class to graduate as a hero. And Shirogane is by far the best teacher I have ever had. No disrespect meant!” He bowed low to Hizashi, Nem, and Sho. 

“I want to be taught by Shirogane the rest of my time here at UA! I will be very disappointed if he is fired for someone invading his privacy and sharing personal information with the world.”

He stepped back with another bow. The crowd didn’t know what to do. There was a smattering of claps among the murmurs but most were still stunned from Shirogane’s speech and the sudden presence of kids. 

“My turn! Shirogane is an amazing teacher! You don’t need a quirk to read law documents or to teach it. I don’t know why it matters at all and you should be ashamed of yourself for being so pissy about it!”

Nem choked back a laugh and pulled the enthusiastic second year away from the mic. Another student took her place.

“Hello. I’m Minami, hero name Neutronus, a third year hero student. I’ve been taught by a lot of teachers and will say that Shirogane is by far the most engaging and kind teacher I’ve ever had. They have answered every question I’ve had with patience and helped me figure out the answer myself. I’d rather be taught by them than an unsuitable replacement from the Commission. Thank you for your time.”

Student after student stepped up and spoke, some more eloquent than others. One student, pushed forward by Mirio, only managed to stutter out that he liked Shirogane as a teacher before fleeing, Mirio at his heels.

Hizashi kept track of all of them, staring hard through eyes burning with proud tears. He was determined to sneak in some extra credit points on all their end of term exams.

Nem kept sniffling to his right and Sho was still scanning the crowd, keeping an eye on everything. 

He couldn’t place what Shirogane was feeling though. His eyes were slightly squinted behind his glasses and his bottom lip was pinched as if he had pulled it in to bite it. 

The queue of students ended and after a few seconds of shuffling and awkward silence, they all left the way they came, making sure to say goodbye to Shirogane and that they’d see him next semester.

No one knew what to do after that. It was nearly impossible to return to the manic state they’d been in before being told off by a bunch of students and no one stepped forward to try. A large portion of the crowd drifted off naturally, getting back to their day now that the drama was over and the reporters were still hunched over their notepads. 

Seizing the moment of quiet, Hizashi shepherded them all back onto UA’s campus. As soon as the gate snapped shut, he and Nem collapsed onto each other, the tension evaporating from their bodies at the same time.

“Hoooooooooly hell that was intense!”

“That was almost worse than the Tokyo Conference disaster!”

“Ack! Don’t even mention it, Nem!”

“I had too! It’s the only thing that compares. Ugh! I don’t think my legs are working right now. God, adrenaline is the worst!”

Sho was watching them complain to each other, stifling a yawn.

Wobbling upright, Nem stood shakily as she tested her legs. Hizashi pushed her. She yelped and pinwheeled her arms, barely managing to stay upright. 

She whipped towards him and took him down in a flying tackle while he was distracted laughing his ass off.

“Ouch! Nem!”

She was all elbows and muscle weight, and would’ve pinned him if he wasn’t as slippery as a wet bar of soap. He twisted and slipped through a gap in her grip and tackled her right back. 

They rolled in the grass, dumping all their excess nervous energy into putting the other into a headlock and nougying their brains out. Distracted as they were, they didn’t hear the beginning of the exchange between the two standing teachers, but they definitely heard Shouta’s sharp response.

“Excuse me?”

From where his head was wedged in her elbow, Hizashi shared a look with Nem and they broke apart, dropping onto their butts.

Shirogane and Shouta stood a step apart, both frowning deeply at each other. 

“I said, which one of you reached out to the students? What gave you the right to drag them into this mess?”

“We didn’t reach out to anybody, Shiro.” Nem said as she stood up and brushed herself off. 

“Then who did?” Shirogane cried, looking more exasperated than Hizashi had ever seen. “It only makes sense that it was one of you three, or rather, one of you two.”

He turned to Nem and Hizashi, who was brushing off his own grass stains and standing next to Shouta. 

“We’ve been with you since Nedzu’s office, when would we have had the time to reach out?”

“All we did was plan my speech. You were the one on your phone, not us.” 

“But then… But why else would those students speak up if you didn’t ask them too?”

Nem stepped towards him, her face crestfallen. Tentatively, she reached out, stopping just shy of Shirogane’s hands that were clenched into fists at his side. He didn’t move and she dropped her hand but still spoke.

“Shiro, honey, is it really that impossible to believe that they truly love having you as a teacher and wanted to defend you?”

Shirogane blinked. His bottom lip was tucked in again.

“That’s… That’s illogical. I’ve taught them for only one semester.”

Nem shrugged.

“Kids bond quickly with adults they respect and trust. This speaks to your abilities as a teacher and proves everyone who doubted you dead wrong.”

Sunlight glinted off his ring as he twisted it, looking between all of them as if looking for a lie.

“Neither of you really reached out?”

“Nope.” Hizashi popped while Nemuri shook her head. 

“Oh.” His eyes were squinting again and he was looking around, avoiding eye contact.

“As touching as this is, Nedzu is going to want a debrief.”

Ever the moment killer, his husband. 

“I don’t know why, he was watching the whole thing anyway.” Hizashi groused.

Sho grunted in response. He and Hizashi took the lead back to Nedzu’s office while Nem and Shirogane trailed behind. 

Chapter Text

“Well done.”

Nedzu had a steaming pot of tea waiting for them. They all slumped into the proffered seats, except for Shirogane who went about pouring tea for them all. 

How he had any energy was beyond Shouta. He himself hadn’t even talked to anyone, just stood around being intimidating but it was enough to wear him thin. He wanted nothing more than to steal away with his sleeping bag, find a vent, and pass out.

“This is still going to be a problem.” 

“Oh come ooooon Sho, let us celebrate for at least a minute, Shirogane just kicked so much ass!”

“Language.”

“Butt. Kicked copious amounts of butt!”

Nedzu’s whiskers twitched. Shirogane sank down onto the couch next to Zashi with a deep sigh.

“Eraserhead is correct. They were swayed in the heat of the moment but it won’t be long before the quirkless rhetoric takes root again.”

“We may have more time than we think. The unplanned support of our students will help keep opinion favorable for longer.” Nedzu said.

“And summer break will give everyone time to cool off.” Nemuri spoke up.

“Or to ramp up.” Shouta countered as he dropped his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. Probably for the best the pillows had suddenly disappeared. If he got any more comfortable he’d be asleep in a second.

“We get it edgelord, you’re grumpy.” 

He reached over and pinched her side without opening his eyes. The cushion bounced slightly and then her hand whacked his shoulder. He grimaced. He was still sore from the weekend and as usual she didn’t bother to check her strength.

“We can’t possibly predict public sentiment in the months to come. We all know how fickle it is and the smallest thing can set off a chain reaction none of us can control.” Nedzu mused. 

Tea cups clinked and one of them sighed. It did look bleak. Shouta was still stuck on whether or not he should care. 

It wasn’t even about the quirklessness. He could literally not care less about it. He knew plenty of pro heroes with powerful quirks who were assholes and terrible at their job and somehow still ranked Number 2. Quirks were a tool to use. If you didn’t have a quirk, it was just one tool less in your arsenal.

What bothered him was that every new thing he learned about Shirogane just made him more of a mystery. It should be the other way around. How is one person so continuously confounding? 

Why is he not upset about his quirk status being outed? 

Previously, Shouta had only understood Zashi’s desire to metaphorically peel people apart to an extent. But the longer Shirogane evaded questions or revealed some other nuance to his character, the more Shouta understood.

Letting the surrounding conversation fade into the background, he ran through what little he’d been able to scrap together, easily falling into the well worn tracks his mind had made.

He said he’d eaten bugs. Could be a remnant of a standard childhood, victim of the classic peer pressure ritual of eating a worm. But tacked together with his comment about not wasting food and his overall obsession with the “art of cooking” whatever that was, Shouta felt it might hint to a past, a childhood maybe, where food had been scarce for him.

He could be projecting on that one, sensitive to any signs of neglect after his own trauma with food resulted in a penchant for obscure or strong flavors. But as shocking as Shouta found it sometimes, not everyone had such sad backstories. And just because Shirogane was ready to flay Shouta alive for scrambling his eggs in the pan, didn’t mean he had one.

Plus there was the book he’d given Zashi. A family heirloom just laying about and given away as a gift for an acquaintance. It stood to reason it wasn’t the only heirloom. And with expensive antiques on hand, there was no way he would have wanted for anything growing up. 

Unless he had a family like Shouta’s, affluent enough to provide for their kid but severely lacking in the follow through.

A probable theory but impossible to prove. Shirogane had never given them any sort of indication that he’d even been birthed by someone. For all they knew, he’d just sprung into being one day. Fully formed and annoying at first breath.

Anyway, he had wealth. If not inherited, then from his position at a prestigious law firm. 

But if he was wealthy, what the hell was he doing teaching? 

And why had he been so interested in the school cameras??

That one bothered Shouta the most. It made way to a whole slew of other questions too, all more pressing than the last. And all unlikely to get an answer.

Shouta felt like he was mentally sprinting in circles. There had to be some piece, some motivation that would tie it all together he was sure. If he found that piece before he went crazy with curiosity? That was up to Shirogane.

An elbow dug into his side.

“Jesus Nem! Do you sharpen your elbows or what, that fucking hurt.”

“If I have to remind any of you one more time to watch your language, I will be severely disappointed.”

“She nearly broke my rib, Nedzu.”

“Cry me a river, you scruffy baby, I was trying to wake you up.”

“I’ve been awake the whole time! Just ask next time before resorting to violence.”

“What were we talking about then? If you were awake.”

“Protection detail for Shirogane.”

“Lucky guess.” She dismissed.

He pinched her in the side again and deflected her retaliating swing. They were about to wrestle each other off the couch when a single tap of a spoon against porcelain caused them to freeze.

They separated as Nedzu stared at them in disappointment. Hizashi coughed a laugh into his elbow while Shirogane sipped his tea.

“Yes, we were discussing who to assign to Shirogane on his walks to and from school. While not having an easily identifiable profile as, say, Present Mic, his face has been broadcasted across the nation. He will be a target.” 

“Whoever found out your quirk status most likely has your home address. Will we need to move you into a safe house for a while?” Nem asked.

“That won’t be a problem.” Shirogane brushed aside her worry.

“Why not?” Shouta asked. Any sign of an opening and he had to take it. To push just a little bit more. Shirogane set his teacup down.

“It just won’t.”

“Explain.” 

“Intuition.”

“Not good enough.”

“Fine. The address on file with my quirk information is not a home I frequent.”

“You have multiple homes?”

“In my name, yes.”

“Sounds like the behavior of someone who’s running from something. Or hiding.”

“Now that you mention it, it does correlate with actions taken by someone running from something.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Running.”

“No, I’m sitting.”

“Knock it off!” Hizashi shoved an arm between them as if to physically break through the rather juvenile aggression that was beginning to build between them. “Cut it out Sho, he just got back from a face down with the press and now you’re on his ass- his case about owning more than one home?”

Shouta sank back into the couch and crossed his arms. No straight answer. Just more questions. God I need a nap.

“Are you done with your interrogation, Aizawa?”

“For now.”

“Then we should discuss an escort schedule for Shirogane. One of the teachers should be with him to and from the school until summer break and we can revisit it in the next semester.”

“Us three can do it!”

“It should be a mix of all teachers.” Shouta rebutted. 

“But we don’t know who the informant is! What if that person is on rotation and leads him into a trap?”

“I really don’t think-” Shirogane started but Hizashi spoke over him.

“Fine. All teachers but Ringleader can be on rotation.”

“Zash we don’t have proof.”

“I am perfectly capable-”

“So we do nothing and let the known sleaze escort Shirogane to his home? If he has a bogus address, why should we serve up the real one just like that?”

“I agree with Hizashi.” Nem said. 

“It’s only for the rest of the week. We can easily leave him off rotation without needing a reason.”

“Enough!” Shirogane was standing, fists clenched at his side. Shouta watched with interest as he glowered down at them all. “This is absurd. I am not a child. I am fully capable of walking to and from work without a hero detail. Besides, it would only draw more attention if I’m seen walking with pro heroes everywhere.”

“We aren’t saying you aren’t capable-”

“I said enough.” Shirogane cut off, his voice hard as stone. “Principal Nedzu, give me the code to the back door and I’ll be able to slip in and out of campus just fine.”

“Back door?”

“What back door?”

Nedzu’s ears flicked back briefly. “That seems to be an equitable solution. I will tell you the code later. Now, all of you, I advise against speaking with the press and do not engage with any civilians looking to pick a fight. I will repeat this to the rest of the teachers. And we will not be pointing fingers or blaming anyone without evidence to back it up. Am I understood?”

A chorus of tired agreement and they all filed out of his office at his dismissal. It was beginning to feel like he was a student again with all the traipsing in and out of the principal’s office he was doing today.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to take this call.” 

They all watched as Shirogane answered his phone and drifted away from them.

“Hello BB. I’m still at UA though I’ll be leaving shortly. Yes it was-”

Shouta nudged his husband.

“Stop listening in, Zash.”

“But he’s hardly ever on his phone, I just wanna know who he’s talking to!”

“I didn’t think he talked to anyone but us.” Nem said, looking equally as curious.

“He hasn’t mentioned anyone to you Nem?” Shouta asked.

“He talks about a lot of people but not in a way that implies they’re friends. I just figure he has a hell of a memory.”

“For his sake, you two better not be his only friends.” Shouta huffed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re both crazy.”

“Pot meet kettle asshole.” 

“He has a family.” Zashi interrupted, his attention stuck on the corner Shirogane had disappeared around, his fingers drumming on his thigh

“He said something to you?”

“Briefly. And I could tell he didn’t mean too. Sho interrupted before I learned anything else.”

Ah, that explains the scene he’d witnessed before calling Shirogane up to the gauntlet. Hizashi had been nearly vibrating out of his skin, his focus boring into Shirogane who had looked like a skittish alley cat, eyes bouncing back and forth as he looked for an escape. If Shouta had known that’s what had been going on he might’ve left Zashi to it.

“He doesn’t want to talk about his family? Do you think they’re awful people?”

“He said they play DnD together so I wouldn’t think they’d be terrible.”

“Like no family has ever put on appearances for the sake of public opinion.” Shouta said. 

Neither had a good response to that. He knew they were thinking about what he’d told them of his family.

“RIP the mood.” Nem muttered. Shouta sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Just leave it alone. If you’re all friends, he’ll tell you eventually.”

Deflated and tired, they headed back to the teachers room. Only a few teachers had stayed behind, lingering in the kitchenette where they’d obviously been watching the broadcast. 

“Nice speech Midnight. Well said.” Vlad gave her a thumbs up. She gave him a wane smile and started packing up her things. 

“Where’s Shirogane?” Snipe asked.

“Had to take a call.” Zashi answered simply as he started stacking papers and shoving them in his bag. They were all ready to go home. 

Shouta rounded the row of desks to his space and sat down heavily. His stack of unmarked papers mocked him, sitting inches higher than the stack of marked ones. He’d been hoping to make a better headway today.  

He ignored the rest of them discussing Shirogane’s speech and set about turning his computer off and shuffling papers around. A glint in his periphery distracted him. Shirogane’s glitter pen. 

It sat on top of a neatly stacked pile of papers. All his exams, already graded. Shouta flipped through them quickly and confirmed Zashi’s bold claim from earlier. His student’s had all passed with exemplary marks. And from the brief skim, it wasn’t that the test was easy. Shouta wasn’t sure if he knew the answer to some of the questions.

He placed the stack of papers back exactly how they were and dropped back into his chair, his chin sinking into the comfort of his scarf.

I’m such a hypocrite.  

He admonished Zashi for being swayed by his feelings and yet, here he was doing the same. He was so blinded by the certainty that Shirogane was a threat he ignored something incredibly important.

Shirogane was a good teacher. 

The students obviously respected him and enjoyed having him as their teacher if their words at the gate were true. And judging by the marks, Shirogane knew how to bring out the best in his students, even the ones that routinely struggled with their grades. 

It was illogical to cling to an opinion of someone's character when there was overwhelming evidence to the contrary. Especially when his distrust stemmed from his gut instinct and Shirogane's unwillingness to divulge all his secrets. 

Because what had he done to earn Shirogane’s trust anyway? He blatantly riled him up just to get a reaction and told anyone who’d listen he was suspicious. Shouta wouldn’t tell himself his life’s story either if he acted like that.

So even though Shirogane still made his skin buzz with wariness, he had to trust that his intentions for being a teacher were good. No one with the intent to betray them would go to such lengths. 

And if it happened, if he did bring harm to them, Shouta trusted himself to respond swiftly, and lethally.

It couldn’t hurt to be a little nicer though. Just in case.

Without letting himself think about it, Shouta unlocked his secret drawer, plucked out a fruit pouch and dropped it into Shirogane’s bag. 

Embarrassment tinged his cheeks pink and he quickly finished packing and joined the crowd at the door.  

They migrated out slowly, still chattering away about the events of the day. He and Zashi angled back towards the front gate while the rest of them headed to the car lot. 

Subconsciously, both their feet slowed as they neared the gate. 

“We should have asked to get the back door key from Nedzu too.” Zashi muttered, looking cross. 

“Want me to go out first?”

“Noooo, it’s fine. It doesn’t sound like there’s many people out there anyway.”

It was true. The only sounds drifting through the gate were that of a normal busy city street. Still, they tentatively poked their heads out before fully exiting. Zashi breathed a sigh of relief as Shouta scanned their surroundings, just to make sure no one was hiding in wait. 

A figure ducked behind the corner of UA’s boundary wall as he swept over it. Suspicious . 

He squeezed Zashi’s elbow and jerked his chin towards the corner. Zashi immediately went on guard and nodded, pointing up in question. Shouta confirmed with his own nod and was off. He silently scaled to the top of the boundary wall and began stepping lightly towards the corner. 

On the street below, Zashi started whistling a merry tune and followed in step with him.

At the whistled signal, Shouta dropped behind the figure just as Zashi rounded the corner, blocking in their prey.

“Ah!” A high pitched yelp came from behind small hands that had reflexively risen in fright. Just a kid. A twitchy, nervous one.

Zashi dropped his guard just as fast as he’d put it up. He waved his hands in front of him and gave a wide, Present Mic perfect smile.

“Hey hey hey! Sorry about that kiddo! We thought you were a rogue reporter trying to ambush us! We won’t hurt you, promise!” 

His warm voice soothed the kid enough for them to lower their arms and peer at him with wide, green eyes.

“What’re you doing lingering by the gates little listener?”

“P-P-Present Mic!” The kid hiccuped, the fear in his eyes quickly morphing into a sparkling adoration even though his trembling had yet to stop. Zashi dropped into a squat to be eye level with him. He was a sucker for kids, especially if they were fans.

“That’s me!” He responded cheerfully. “And who might you be?”

“Iz-Izuku Mi-Mid-Midoriya!” He gave a shaky bow, his green hair bouncing with the motion. Something about the movement tickled at the back of Shouta’s mind and he settled into a shadow to watch in silence as he tried to figure out why the kid was familiar.

“Nice to meetchya Midoriya! What are you doing by the gates of UA? Are you waiting for someone?”

“K-kind of. I was-was hoping to see Sh-Shirogane.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

Fingers twisted in his shirt, and his eyes dropped.  

“Um… I s-saw his speech and-and um… I’malsoquirklessandwantobeahero.”

“I’m sorry lil listener, I didn’t catch that.”

The kid gulped and steadied himself, fisting his hands at his sides.

“I’m quir-quirkless and I want to be a hero.” 

It was more of a squeak and a stutter than a bold declaration but in that moment, facing shining up to Zashi, Shouta saw a spark of steely determination. Hm.

A quirkless hero, huh? Sounds interesting… with a good mentor and proper training…  

Maybe.

Not a lot of heroes would line up to train a quirkless kid though, no matter the potential.

“Aaaah. I getchya, what a cool dream kiddo! Would you like me to text him and see if he’ll meet with you?”

The kid visibly swayed, his determination slipping into guarded surprise as Zashi met his statement with kindness.

“I-um, you-you aren’t m-mad?”

“Of course not! I’m friends with him, it wouldn’t be a bother!” 

“I m-mean, about b-being a her-hero.” The kid mumbled to the sidewalk, back to twisting his fingers in his shirt. Zashi stopped patting his pockets in search of his phone and frowned in sympathy.

“Oh kid, no, I’m not mad. Being a hero takes all sorts, why should you not get a chance to try?”

His big green eyes somehow got bigger and filled with tears. Zashi cooed and dropped a comforting hand on the kid's shoulder as he started sniffling into his elbow. Feeling vaguely uncomfortable and too exhausted to deal with that, Shouta turned to his phone.

------------------

powerpoint puff girls

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buttercup: @blossom are you still at UA?

blossom: Did you give me one of your fruit pouches?

buttercup: no

buttercup: why? do you have one of mine?

buttercup: did you steal one?!

blossom: In what world would I steal a fruit pouch from you.

buttercup: that’s what a thief would say

blossom: You are dramatic.

buttercup: answer the question

blossom: No I did not steal a fruit pouch. It was in my bag.

buttercup: wrong question

blossom: Clarify next time.

blossom: Yes, I am heading towards the back door.

buttercup: come to the front

blossom: I do not fancy being lynched, so no.

buttercup: no one’s here

buttercup: and a fan wants to meet you

blossom: A fan? I don’t understand the joke. 

buttercup: i’m as surprised as you

buttercup: but he wants to see you

blossom: I don’t do autographs.

buttercup: he’s quirkless

blossom: I am on my way.

Luckily it seemed the tears were drying up by the time he finished texting.

“He’s on his way.”

Zashi gave him a grateful smile but the kid's head snapped to him when he spoke. Wow. His situational awareness needed work.

“Eraserhead?!” The kid screeched. Shouta froze. 

What. The fuck. 

How did a child know who he was?! He glared down, purposefully letting a little of his quirk through to make his eyes bleed red. The kid seemed to be warring between excitement and fear, his hands flapping at his sides.

It clicked.

“You.” 

He growled and whipped out his capture scarf, snaring the kid around the waist and yanking him forwards. The kid yelped but didn’t fight and he was dangling in front of Shouta in seconds. 

“What the fuck Sho!”

Zashi’s screech broke him out of his instincts and he blinked. Wide green eyes blinked back at him.

Whoops.

Very slowly he set the kid down and loosened his scarf. The kid seemed fine, rather unruffled by the sudden assault. He even brushed off Zashi’s attempts at checking him over so Zashi whirled on him.

“What was that?! You can’t attack kids Sho!”

“It wasn’t an attack.” He muttered, sulking into his capture scarf as it settled around his neck.

“Then enlighten me cause it sure looked like one!”

The kid stepped in, looking bashful.

“S-sorry, it’s my-my fault. I have insomnia and wand-der the streets at n-night. Eraserhead picks me up and s-sends me home. It’s p-probably instinctual for him to grab me at this point.”

“That doesn’t make this your fault! Sho should know better- wait. This is the kid you’ve been complaining about for weeks?!”

Shouta shrugged non committedly, still chin deep in his capture scarf.

“Oh my god you are! I’ve been wanting to meet you forever! Sho doesn’t shut up about you after patrols, always talking about the excitable kid-”

“Zashi, stop.”

“-that must have an analysis quirk-”

“Zash.” 

“-cause he breaks down the fights he sees so quickly and accurately-”

He whipped his scarf at Zashi, coiling it around his mouth in a makeshift gag as his eyes flashed red.

“Stop.” 

Zashi’s eyes sparkled with mirth and Shouta knew he was grinning beneath the cloth. It was so aggravating that he couldn't intimidate his husband anymore.

“Y-you thought I had-had an analysis quirk?”

He left Zashi bound and turned to the kid who’s eyes were so big with hope.

Goddamnit Zashi, he had a reputation to maintain.

“Like he said, you’re smart for your age. Given how rare it is to be quirkless nowadays, I assumed you had one. Now I know you’re naturally intelligent.”

Shit! He thought that was a compliment, why was he crying again?! Before the tears could really get going and before Shouta devolved into a panic, a new voice spoke.

“Bondage in public and making children cry. I really can’t leave you two alone, can I?”

They all startled and turned to see Shirogane had finally joined them. Shouta caught him putting something in his pocket that looked suspiciously like a crumpled fruit pouch.

The kid froze with a quiet “eep!” and just stared. Shirogane let him do so as he raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the two of them.

Shouta begrudgingly untied Zashi who was indeed grinning under it all.

“Hey Shirogane!”

“Hello Yamada. I believe I am expected?” 

“Yep! This is Midoriya! He saw the press conference and wanted to meet you!”

“Hello Midoriya, I am Neyan Shirogane.”

“Ah! Um, hi!” The kid squeaked out. 

“You wanted to speak with me?” 

“I d-d-did, I am also q-quirkless and I wan-wanted to thank you for what you s-said. It m-meant a lot to me to hear that being quir-quirkless doesn’t make you worthless and I was inspired to fight for m-my dream even har-harder than before!”

“And what dream is that?”

The kid's shoulders bunched for a second before squaring, balling his fists in front of his chest and bouncing on his toes. The determination was back, brighter than before.

“I’m going to be a hero!” 

Shirogane took it in stride, nodding seriously and tilting his head.

“An attainable dream. How do you plan to achieve it?” He asked. 

The kid locked up. Shouta was pretty sure he’d stopped breathing. 

As an underground hero, academically Shouta knew the statistics on suicide rates for quirkless people. Personally he’d read enough farewell letters on ledges to know. Society wasn’t kind to them.

It wasn’t any different for this kid. In daylight Shouta could see more than he had during their interactions at night. The long sleeves didn’t hide the scars as well as the kid probably hoped they did. 

To have three adults react positively to his declaration had to be overwhelming.

To his credit, he rallied quickly, his hands back to flapping at his sides.

“U-um, I want to g-go to UA. S-so I’ll study for the exam? M-my hobby is an-analyzing hero fights and I think I’m go-good at it? Which w-will come in handy.”

“That’s a start but there’s more to being a hero than being smart. What else can you do?”

The kid shrugged helplessly. Shirogane nodded thoughtfully and then gestured to his side where Zashi was standing.

“Say Present Mic is a villain, how would you take him down?” 

Never one for half measures, Zashi immediately got into character. His laugh was a tad maniacal as he swooped behind Shirogane and put him in a loose headlock, using his fingers to mimic a gun to his temple. 

Shouta readied his scarf in a heartbeat, waiting for Zashi’s elbow to be snapped backwards, but Shirogane didn’t react to the touch beyond a small (fond?) eyeroll.

The kid gaped. Understandable. It wasn’t every day you got to see Present Mic make a fool of himself.

“It’s just another fight, Midoriya. Analyze it.” Shirogane prompted.

“Yeeeaaaaah! Come fight me hero!” Hizashi stage yelled, keeping his voice low so as not to ruin Shirogane’s hearing.

“Um… okay. In a hostage situation the hero would want to talk first to try and reason with the villain to end the whole thing without-”

“Ignore the hostage angle. Present Mic is just being overly enthusiastic.” Shirogane deadpanned as Zashi snapped his utility belt over his sweater, claiming it to be a bomb set to go off in five minutes while still laughing evilly. The kid eyed him for a few seconds, distracted by his display before switching back to Shirogane.

“Oh, um, okay. Well, if it’s just Present Mic… His quirk is long range so the hero would want to get in close, preferably behind his back since his voice projects whichever direction he’s facing. The hero would want to fight him there, staying in his blind spots to keep from getting hit by his voice. His speaker is no doubt reinforced but if you break his jaw that might keep him from using his quirk? Or his nose? But his bone structure might be different to compensate for his quirk so who knows what force it’d take to break? He needs air to yell so if you suffocate him that would also work...” 

The kid devolved into mutters, his eyes locked in the middle distance and his hands playing with themselves in front of him. He didn’t notice the delighted look on Zashi’s face, nor Shirogane watching him with a small smile. 

“All good ideas.” Shirogane said, stopping the kid’s mumbling. “Are you capable of seeing them through at this very moment?”

“N-n-no! Of course not!”

“Then how do you get there? What would you need to break Present Mic’s jaw?” Shirogane mimed punching up to Zashi’s face. When his fist connected, Zashi pretended to be blown backwards and slumped against the UA boundary wall.

“Um… strength?”

Shirogane waved him to go on.

“And combat experience?”

“Correct. You could also make use of a blunt force weapon.” Shirogane mimed swinging a bat at Zashi who pretended to block it with his arm and fired his mock pistol in retaliation. Shirogane sidestepped the imaginary bullets and ducked behind Shouta. 

“Now who’s using a hostage!” 

The kid watched with wide eyes as Zashi holstered his imaginary pistol in faux anger while Shirogane stepped back out with a shrug.

“All’s fair in war. So, Midoriya, you have options at your disposal. It is up to you to decide which ones to study and train. It will be exhausting and repetitious. You will sweat, cry, and bleed and you will always be one step behind your peers, racing to keep up.”

The kid was mesmerized, following every word and looking at Shirogane like he’d hung the moon and stars.

“But if you don’t break under the strain or the judgement of the world, you can be a hero. Do you think you can do that?”

“Ye-”

“No. Think about it. Really understand what it will mean for you to choose this path.”

The kid straightened, his confidence returning easier each time he flexed it. His voice was steady when he responded with a firm,

“Yes.”

Shirogane looked half exasperated and half fond. He shook his head but reassured the kid with a small smile.

“Well, that is the spirit of a true hero, always rushing in without worrying about the consequences. Alright then, you’re going to need a mentor. Do you have one already?”

“Um, no?”

Shirogane contemplated the kid for a moment before turning to Shouta, a gleam in his eye.

“No.” Shouta said before Shirogane could speak. That look was way too similar to Zashi’s scheming face for Shouta to agree to anything he had to say.

“You’d be perfect Eraserhead.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“I have two jobs already.”

“It’s summer. You’re down to one.”

“I’m busy.”

“Hm.” Shirogane eyed him over, looking very displeased for a moment before it was replaced with a smug smile. Uh oh.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” Leaning down to be eye level with the kid, Shirogane turned serious.

“Alright Midoriya, this is the first rule of being a hero so listen closely. Every fight, in every situation, from a catastrophic villain fight to a simple mugging, always rush in with everything you got. You need to put your life on the line to-”

Shouta whipped his scarf around Shirogane and yanked him away from the kid, cutting off his next words and spinning him into Zashi who caught him easily.

“Do NOT listen to him. Kid, I swear to god you better forget that he just said. Are you listening to me?” Shouta rounded on him, his eyes flashing red as irritation spilled over. The kid nodded fast, his hair bouncing erratically. 

He ignored the two behind him who were giggling conspiratorially and softened his glare but maintained eye contact.

“First rule of hero work is to live to fight another day. Repeat it.”

“First rule of hero work is to live to fight another day.”

“Again.”

“First rule of hero work is to live to fight another day.”

“Good. You repeat that to yourself every time you wake up and go to bed, got it? I will know if you don’t.”

More bouncing green hair. 

“You use appropriate strategies for each situation and come out the other side alive. That’s how you save the most people.”

The kid had materialized a notebook from somewhere and was scribbling frantically. Shouta sighed and straightened up. This was happening. Fucking Shirogane.

“I’ll need to meet with your guardians first. Make sure we get their approval.”

“What is- um… what is happening?” 

“I’m your mentor. Get you into shape for UA. Can’t trust that lunatic to do it.” He jabbed a thumb back at Shirogane. 

“Rude.”

Shouta was about to flip him off when he thought of something and abruptly looked down at the kid, who still looked a little dazed by all that had happened.

“Oh, uh. If that is something you want. For me to mentor you.”

There was no warning before the kid started to bawl. Shouta startled. Fuck, again? What do I keep saying?? He swiveled to Zashi helplessly and his husband, the angel that he was, easily stepped in. 

“Shhh, shh, shh, it’s alright. I know he looks mean and scary but he’s a sweetheart! There’s no need to be scared of him.”

“I’m n-not! I’m re-eally not, I’m so… I’ve n-n-never had-no one has be-believed- yes! P-please be my mentor!” He managed to get out before breaking down into more sobs. 

Shouta quickly stepped back, allowing Zashi room to comfort the kid again. He ended up by the wall next to Shirogane. 

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“Did you like the fruit pouch?”

“I hated it.”

“I know.”

It felt like hours before Zashi got the kid to settle down. Shouta was pretty sure he managed a micro nap standing up while he and Shirogane waited.

It took Zashi asking about his favorite pro hero to calm the flood and then they had to listen to a rather teary ramble about All Might and how amazing he is and how much of an inspiration he’d been his whole life and he’s just so strong and-and not that they weren’t amazing and strong but it’s All Might you know? He’s the greatest-

“Sorry lil listener but we gotta get going on patrols! Tell me all about All Might next time, okay? And here’s Eraserheads number to give your guardian. Have them call so they can discuss the details of your training, kay?”

“Okay!” 

Like the sun breaking through clouds, the kid's smile blinded Shouta. Before he scampered off, he very shyly stuck out his notebook and asked for autographs from them all, even a surprised Shirogane.

Then he was gone. 

Pretty good speed considering how scrawny he was. He’d probably do well with cardio exercises. Putting muscle on him was going to be harder… Nope. Not yet. I’ve got time later to work up a training schedule, right now all I need to focus on is finding the closest, most comfortable spot I can be horizontal on.   

“You want in on this Shirogane? We can make a bet on how many times Sho accidentally makes him cry the first training sesh.”

“Hey.”

“Tempting, but I am going to be busy with a personal project this summer.”

“Too busy to make a bet?” Zashi pouted.

“Yes. Well, rather, I don’t want to make any promises I cannot fulfill. I foresee being very busy.”

“Buuuuuumer. Can I still text ya?”

“I will most likely be able to respond to texts.” Shirogane acquiesced. 

“Alright!” Zashi was instantly cheered and he moved to start walking away -he wasn’t kidding about patrols- but Shouta found himself unable to resist poking again. And maybe he was salty about being played so thoroughly.

“Personal project? Does it have anything to do with the school cameras?”

Shirogane turned cool brown eyes on him while Zashi stuttered to a halt and dropped his head in his hand. 

“Whether it is or isn’t, it’s none of your business.”

“So it is about the cameras.”

“Drop it Eraserhead.”

“No. Tell me if your personal project is about the cameras.”

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”

They were all too strung out and irritated for this. It wasn’t the fun banter they usually fell into, already the words had more bite than normal. But Shouta couldn’t stop. 

“Yeah I’ll drop it.”

Shirogane obviously didn’t believe him, scoffing and crossing his arms. “Pro heroes shouldn’t lie.”

“Who said I was lying?”

“Oh? Then yes. My personal project involves the school cameras.”

“Alright. Subject dropped.” 

Shirogane’s eyes widened in surprise and his posture relaxed a smidge. Shouta almost felt bad for his next sentence.

“New subject. What about the cameras is of interest to you?”

Shirogane bristled. 

“Sho.” Zashi snapped. “Drop it.”

“No. School cameras either means somethings wrong at the school, he’s worried about being seen doing something, or he’s using school equipment for personal reasons. Neither is good and we deserve to know.” 

“Do you?” Shirogane asked, his voice suddenly deadly calm.

“Do I deserve to know if the safety of my students is compromised? What a stupid question.”

The air went taut. Shouta’s hackles rose. Nothing had changed outwardly, but he was now dead certain Shirogane was one twitch away from killing him. 

“Fascinating. I’m curious as to why you’ve decided to start caring now, Eraserhead.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve been teaching here for how many years and all of a sudden you’re so concerned about the well being of your students?”

“I’ve been teaching for a hell of a lot longer than you so quit acting like you know me.”

“I know you well enough. Spouting nonsense rhetoric about living to fight another day like it isn’t some cowardly excuse to run away from fights you think you’ll lose. Is that why you haven’t done anything? Too scared you’ll lose the fight? Don’t want to risk embarrassment if you get the shit kicked out of you?”

What the fuck was going on? Shirogane believed everything he was saying. The sharp vitriol that Shouta could almost taste on his tongue proved it. But that didn't mean Shouta was following.

The only thing he did know for certain was that Shirogane thought he was a coward.

“What the fuck did you just say to me.” He stalked forward, eyes twinging as they went red, his capture scarf swirling around his head. Shirogane didn’t budge and they ended up chest to chest, snarling at each other. 

“Alright, back off you two!” Hizashi’s stern rebuke earned him nothing but Shirogane’s ire as he pivoted at the sound of his voice, rounding on him.

“I didn't think you'd be like this either Yamada. Too self centered to want to rid yourself of an easy source of compliments and admiration, no matter how sick and twisted they are? Are you that much of an attention whore that you’d put your students in harm’s way for it?”

Shouta shoved him. 

In his anger, it was too strong of a push. He knew it had been. The kind of unchecked strength he used against adrenaline fueled villains. He expected to hear the crack of a skull on the boundary wall but Shirogane merely stumbled a few steps back.

The hurt on his face felt worse.

“I’m going to ignore what you just said.” Zashi’s voice was frigid and flat. “And blame it on the fact that your quirk status just got outed to the whole world. Because the Shirogane I know would never say such hurtful things to his friends.”

Shirogane’s shoulders bunched up to his ears as he chewed on his lower lip and stared hard at the pavement.

Beside him he felt Zashi shift and relax somewhat. His voice softened.

“Shirogane, we just want to help. But to do that, you have to stop treating us like the enemy. Let us in a little bit. You can trust us.” 

Shouta thought he saw Shirogane give a tiny flinch at Zashi’s words. Guilt? Or something else?

As Shouta watched, Shirogane started acting odd. He’d flattened a hand across his chest and was taking exaggerated breaths. His lower lip was released to give way to muttering as his eyes flicked around and caught briefly on things before skittering away to the next.

Zashi shifted forward a half step and Shirogane flinched. Hard. It stopped Zashi in his tracks and he gave a small wounded sound that only Shouta could hear.

It’d broken Shirogane out of it though. He gave a final shiver and then, nothing. 

All facial expressions, all hand movements, ceased. 

“Forgive me,” he spoke in a grating monotone, no trace left of the spitting anger. “I got carried away. I’ll see you both next semester. Have a good summer.”

And he left. 

Neither of them moved. The sounds of the street beyond felt muffled. Horns honked and somebody was shouting about some idiot bicyclist but it was all dull. Distant.

“Well that was something.” Zashi tried for humor but it fell flat. Shouta huffed a laugh anyway.

“I haven’t been yelled at like that in a while. Kind of refreshing, wouldn’t you say? Most villains come up with stupid, run of the mill stuff to yell. Ya know, stuff like “You damn do gooder!” or “You’re just a slutty bimbo!” or-or “Damn hero, you blind? I’m a law abiding citizen!” said while holding a stolen diamond necklace of course. But it really hits different coming from a friend. They know ya too well to not have insults that’ll flay you wide open.”

“You better not take what Shirogane said to heart. Zash? Don’t. He doesn’t know you.” He took his husbands hands in his and gave them a quick kiss. They were secluded enough in the side street he could risk it.

Zashi’s eyes were dry for now but the wobble in his lower lip didn’t bode well. 

“I know Sho. I know. But I wanted him too. I wanted to be friends with him. But all he sees me as is a desperate attention whore, willing to risk the lives of my students for a compliment? Fuck! I don’t even know what I did to give that impression! I thought we were getting along…” 

He trailed off, no doubt losing himself in memories of every encounter they’d ever had. Shouta tugged his hands to get his attention.

“He also thinks I’m a coward running away from a fight. A fight that I don’t know about. So his criticisms are asinine. Don’t put any more thought into it.”

“Hmmm. I’ll try not to.”

“Like you said, let’s just chalk it up to a really bad day while we wait for further explanation.”

“You’re right. Right. Right! It was super shitty of him but one bad day doesn’t make or break friendships! I’m sure he’ll be totally fine and apologize the next time we see him!”

His optimism was forced. His smile stretched too thin and the sadness was still there in his eyes. But Shouta nodded along. 

The walk to Zashi’s agency was quiet and their goodbye even more so. A single wave. 

Shouta hurried home. Exhaustion be damned. He had a few hours before his patrol started and he wanted to start researching as soon as he could. 

He’d insulted Zashi. He’d made him sad. 

Nothing was going to stop Shouta from exposing every last dirty detail and secret of Shirogane’s life. He’d ask for forgiveness later. Right now, he was going to get some answers.

Chapter Text

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# cant-spell-conspiracy-without-piracy

------------------

July 28 6:32 pm

discounteraser: and that’s all the reasons why Antarctica used to be the lost city of Atlantis

discounteraser: *mic drop*

mrdjsongpondereplay: 👏...👏...👏

itsfreerealestate: you make me hate learning how to read

pinkestcrayon: i-

high5fromgod: hoe don’t you dare

pinkestcrayon: i believe you

discounteraser: YES

high5fromgod: goddamnit

mrdjsongpondereplay: the war has claimed another

mrdjsongpondereplay: we lost a good one today lads

pinkestcrayon: oh come on! that was so convincing!

mrdjsongpondereplay: its like i can still hear her voice

itsfreerealestate: not her fault, we never heard the opposing side

high5fromgod: thats right! where’s smighty?? he can save us from this heresy

nowyoudont: he hasn’t been online at all today, I wonder what happened?

discounteraser: ah, i thought it was strange i wasn’t being interrupted

discounteraser: splains it

pinkestcrayon: doesn’t matter! smighty or not, I still believe!

discounteraser: yesss

discounteraser: welcome to enlightenment, where we laugh at the fools before us

mrdjsongpondereplay: do you want to pay for your tinfoil hat with cash or card?

discounteraser: nah, those come free with initiation

chicknnugg: free tinfoil hats you say?? 👀

dust2dust: why are you worried

dust2dust: the gov would scan your head and all it’d get back is an echo

chicknnugg: 😮

itsfreerealestate: my mans really just said no thoughts, head empty

smallmight: LDKJFOEIFFKDHGLKASJFOIJF

high5fromgod: oh thank god, the voice of reason is here

itsfreerealestate: you call that reason?

high5fromgod: its somehow more decipherable than whatever discunty was saying

discounteraser: rude

smallmight: LDAKJFKDAGHIEJADLKVNZCG

discounteraser: i presented well thought out, detailed reasons and explanations

smallmight: LAKDFJIARVNDKLVNADFLKGH

discounteraser: and i resent the implication that keyboard smashes are easier to understand

nowyoudont: uhhh guys?

high5fromgod: i don’t listen to the opinions of people who think there is a WALL through the entirety of Antarctica with a WHOLE ASS civilisation behind it

high5fromgod: that we have not SEEN or scientifically proven even in today’s world of superpowers

pinkestcrayon: …ya know, when you put it like that

discounteraser: noo

discounteraser: what’s it like having the backbone of a chocolate eclair

pinkestcrayon: sorry discunty! she raises a good point

discounteraser: useless lesbian

smallmight: ASLDKJALSKDFJIJVDLVNSDFK

nowyoudont: Guys! Are we gunna ignore smighty having a stroke?!

pinkestcrayon: oh he’s fine dw about it

itsfreerealestate: he’ll wear himself out in a sec

smallmight: LKADJFJFKADLHNADKLSKDVM

itsfreerealestate: any minute now

smallmight: LDKAHLSKDAFHGOIUNKVWIJ

discounteraser: smighty, calm down

smallmight: okay!

smallmight: im okay!

mrdjsongpondereplay: wow

high5fromgod: whipped fr

nowyoudont: everything okay smighty? 

smallmight: everything is GREAT OH MYGOD ISTHIS REAL

mrdjsongpondereplay: quick, someone smack him

discounteraser: i’ll smack his ass- WHO SAID THAT

pinkestcrayon: and you call me a useless lesbian smh

chicknnugg: what happened baby bird?

smallmight: JUST A SDEC IM HYPERVENTIALTING

smallmight: AMI DYING I HTINK IM DYING

chicknnugg: pls dont i dont look good in funeral black

dust2dust: do u look good in anything

chicknnugg: yeah, ur brother

dust2dust: ur disinvited from life

itsfreerealestate: I aspire to one day have the level of petty hate dusty has for nug

discounteraser: its inspiring fr

pinkestcrayon: Add a tally to the board @high5fromgod!!

nowyoudont: a tally?

high5fromgod: added!

pinkestcrayon: oh yeah, you’re new here

pinkestcrayon: basically we’re convinced dusty and nug know each other irl and we’re gathering evidence

mrdjsongpondereplay: what’s the count high5?

high5fromgod: 34 instances of possible irl knowledge of each other just this month

dust2dust: i don’t need to know him irl to know he’s a bitch

discounteraser: watch your profanity

chicknnugg: 🖕

nowyoudont: does that count too?

pinkestcrayon: sure does!! You catch on fast 😃

high5fromgod: 35 counts!

smallmight: GUSY PLEASE FOCUS IM HAVINGA CIRSIS

mrdjsongpondereplay: oh right

pinkestcrayon: what’s up buttercup?

smallmight: IMET THREE HEROES TODAY

smallmight: ADNONE O F THEM AGREED TO TRAIN ME TO BE AHERO

smallmight: a;ksdjf;aefa;dskhg;aen;askdn;e

smallmight: maybe i did die and this is heaven

dust2dust: nug is here so no

chicknnugg: i came out to have a good time and i’m honestly feeling so attacked right now

pinkestcrayon: Wow!! That’s amazing smighty!!

itsfreerealestate: congrats

discounteraser: grats

chicknnugg: which heroes?? Do i know them?

nowyoudont: so cool!! 

high5fromgod: that’s incredible! I’m so happy for you!

chicknnugg: which ones?!!

dust2dust: calm down big bird, it’s not about you

chicknnugg: i just need to make sure he met the good ones!! 

chicknnugg: we can’t have smighty hanging around bad heroes

dust2dust: he didn’t meet you so he should be fine

chicknnugg: can i say a bad word? Can i say a bad word?!

discounteraser: yeah

chicknnugg: you motherfucking bitch

nowyoudont: *whispers* is nug a pro hero?

pinkestcrayon: *whispers* yeah, he’s really bad at keeping his identity hush hush

pinkestcrayon: *whispers* but we don’t let him know we know

itsfreerealestate: who was it smighty? 

smallmight: idk if i’m allowed to say? I didn’t sign an NDA but he’s an underground hero so he might not want to let people know??

chicknnugg: now i’m way more invested

chicknnugg: ya gotta tell us now baby bird

pinkestcrayon: Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!

itsfreerealestate: it’s not like we’ll tell anyone else

discounteraser: what happens in chat, stays in chat

smallmight: i don’t know…

discounteraser: please?

smallmight: okay okay fine

itsfreerealestate: damn

pinkestcrayon: the saga continues

high5fromgod: down bad

smallmight: you guys saw the press conference today right? About that teacher at ua?

dust2dust: that reminds me, when i find whoever leaked that information, i will need you guys to be character references

discounteraser: ofc

pinkestcrayon: he’s such a sweet lad, he’d never do anything wrong

mrdjsongpondereplay: of course not officer, dusty is the most well adjusted, not sarcastic asshole that would never commit murder

nowyoudont: condone?? murder??

pinkestcrayon: oh hun

mrdjsongpondereplay: she’s new, she’ll learn

smallmight: well i went to ua to try and see if i could maybe thank him? Or at least see him in person to make sure it wasn’t a hallucination or smthng bc seeing someone quirkless?? on tv?? being proud about it?? ive never done drugs but im pretty sure I know what it feels like now

smallmight: and while i was standing around, two other teachers walked out and i guess i was suspicious?? And they kind of jumped me a little but it was fine, they apologized for it

chicknnugg: they jumped you?!?!

smallmight: it’s fine! they didn’t hurt me, just startled me! they thought i was a reporter ig 

chicknnugg: *puts gun away*

smallmight: but they know the quirkless teacher?! Which makes sense bc they work together and i don’t know why i was surprised honestly but one of them offered to bring him out and he did and we talked and he was amazing and understanding and it was all a blur and idk what happened but then one of them was agreeing to train me?!?!

itsfreerealestate: pls for the love of god, give us names

pinkestcrayon: Yeah! All this “one of them” is hard to follow!

chicknnugg: teeeeeelll uuuuuuuuusss

smallmight: IT WAS PRESENT MMIC AND ERASERHEAD

smallmight: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

mrdjsongpondereplay: WHAT?!

discounteraser: 🥲

dust2dust: interesting

chicknnugg: nice, those are good ones

dust2dust: what are they to you, pokemon?

mrdjsongpondereplay: smighty how does it feel to live out my dream?

mrdjsongpondereplay: how does it feel?!!

smallmight: i got you an autograph!!! 

discounteraser: 🫣

smallmight: i got you one too!!

discounteraser: 🥹

mrdjsongpondereplay: what have we done to deserve smighty

pinkestcrayon: absolutely nothing, this is just what happens when you package sunlight

itsfreerealestate: we don’t deserve him

nowyoudont: I haven’t heard of Eraserhead but i love Present Mic’s podcast! 

discounteraser: which one agreed to train you?

smallmight: …eraserhead

discounteraser: smighty. small might.

discounteraser: light of my life

discounteraser: the proverbial star in the dark miasma of my life

smallmight: i’ll try asking!! but i can’t promise anything

discounteraser: i am your devoted servant, forever and always

smallmight: O.o

smallmight: hahaha haha funny, funny, good one discunty

pinkestcrayon: really? Right in front of my salad?

nowyoudont: is there a tally for this too?

itsfreerealestate: nah, just bets

discounteraser: what bets?

smallmight: yeah guys, what bets?

mrdjsongpondereplay: suddenly, i never learned how to read

smallmight: guys?!

discounteraser: if you don’t explain right now i’ll shit in your beds

magneticmom: And why are we fighting in the chat again?

pinkestcrayon: It’s mom! Scatter!

mrdjsongpondereplay: ✌️ band practice, bye

discounteraser: overdue for a nap

itsfreerealestate: Just remembered, gotta go do homework

nowyoudont: it’s summer??

chicknnugg: breaks over, back to patrol! 

nowyoudont: wow

magneticmom: Congratulations smallmight, I’m proud of you

smallmight: T○T

smallmight: Thank you magneticmom!!

magneticmom: If he ever hurts you, tell us. We’ll take care of it.

dust2dust: seconded. anybody hurts our smighty and we bury them

nowyoudont: the amount of homicidal tendencies in this chat is too dang high

------------------

When I say your name, say queer

------------------

August 19 9:46 am

MOTHERship: Shiro is ghosting me

MOTHERship: is it just me or??

MrCollins: i texted him a week ago and never got a response

cuffmedaddy: we don’t text often but it has seemed quiet

MOTHERship: sho?

edgelord: why would that idiot text me

MrCollins: not for your charm that’s for sure

edgelord: bite me

MrCollins: kinky

MOTHERship: ladies, stop fighting

MOTHERship: zashi?

slutabyebaby: no 

MOTHERship: …

MrCollins: uh oh

MOTHERship: anything you want to talk about sweetie?

slutabyebaby: nothings wrong

MrCollins: the last time you sent a one word text was when sho was in the hospital

MrCollins: and him and i just got coffee so

MOTHERship: you can talk to us

slutabyebaby: no, he hasn’t texted me

slutabyebaby: why would he

slutabyebaby: i’m just an attention whore

MrCollins: we stan a self aware king

MOTHERship: tensei read the room

MrCollins: you’re gunna look me in the face and tell me I’m wrong?

MOTHERship: stfu istg

MOTHERship: zashi, honey, what’s going on?

slutabyebaby: nothing

MOTHERship: don’t lie to me

slutabyebaby: i’m not, nothing is going on

slutabyebaby: that’s the problem

MOTHERship: I’m going to need a little bit more context than that sweetie

slutabyebaby: shirogane said some nasty things to sho and i and we haven’t heard from him since

MOTHERship: what?! what did Sho do?

edgelord: wow

MOTHERship: tell me i’m wrong

MrCollins: the silence is deafening

slutabyebaby: yeah sho might’ve pushed when he should’ve backed off but he’s always done that and shirogane never snapped like that before

MOTHERship: when was this?

slutabyebaby: after the press conference

MOTHERship: so he got mad at being interrogated after an exhausting day of dealing with unreasonable hatred and being exposed to ridicule and suspicion all because of something beyond his control?

slutabyebaby: i’m not disagreeing we pushed him but nem. the things he said

slutabyebaby: they weren’t run of the mill insults

MOTHERship: are you comfortable telling us?

MrCollins: sharing is caring folks

edgelord: he said i was a coward running from a fight and endangering my students in doing so

edgelord: and that zash is too much of an attention whore that it endangers his students

MrCollins: Wow.

cuffmedaddy: That’s unusual

MOTHERship: that doesn’t seem like Shirogane and neither of those comments make any sense at all

edgelord: its what he said and very adamantly believed

MOTHERship: i feel like there’s context we’re missing

edgelord: we felt the same

slutabyebaby: it doesnt MATTER if there’s context or not

slutabyebaby: he obviously believes what he said

slutabyebaby: and then ghosted all of us

slutabyebaby: and having a shit day doesn’t excuse outbursts like that

slutabyebaby: but it makes sense, he obviously didn’t want to be friends

slutabyebaby: now we know why

MrCollins: now i'm no expert, but that doesn’t sound right

cuffmedaddy: I agree with tensei, even from the outside it was obvious he wanted to be friends

MOTHERship: out of everyone you’re the one he’s closest too zash

MOTHERship: so what makes you say that?

slutabyebaby: we’ve been nothing but friendly ever since we met but we still know NOTHING about him

slutabyebaby: whereas he could write a novel about sho and i

MrCollins: not everyone is an oversharer like you zash

slutabyebaby: telling someone if you have a family is NOT oversharing

slutabyebaby: its basic fucking friend ettiquete

slutabyebaby: but he’s given us nothing 

MOTHERship: alright sweetheart, I can tell you’re really in your feels at the moment but imma need you to step back from the edge

MrCollins: and give the moodiness back to sho, it doesn’t suit you

slutabyebaby: oh wow that did it! I feel so much better! *he said, sarcastically*

MOTHERship: Settle down.

slutabyebaby: yes ma’am

MrCollins: mark me down as scared and horny

edgelord: jail

cuffmedaddy: 👮‍♂️🔗

MOTHERship: zashi, why do you think he hasn’t given you anything in return?

slutabyebaby: bc he HASNT

slutabyebaby: i don’t know anything about him after months of working together

slutabyebaby: sho didn’t find anything new during his research on him either

slutabyebaby: seriously, he’s a ghost in the system as much as he is in real life

MOTHERship: alright, we’re gunna circle back around to the fact that sho ran a background check on Shiro even after we made him PROMISE not to do that anymore but first

MOTHERship: i’m going to ask you a few questions zash

slutabyebaby: 😨

MOTHERship: what is Shiro’s favorite color

slutabyebaby: he has two, blue and green

slutabyebaby: specifically the gradient of blues at dusk, and the green of trees and grass

MOTHERship: his favorite food?

slutabyebaby: egusi soup with fufu

MOTHERship: go to karaoke song

slutabyebaby: holding out for a hero

MOTHERship: how does he take his coffee

slutabyebaby: three quarters coffee one fourth cream with two pumps of cherry flavor

MrCollins: still scared and still horny

edgelord: he escaped officer

cuffmedaddy: this is what you get for letting them out on good behavior

MOTHERship: a hobby of his?

slutabyebaby: cooking

MOTHERship: sounds to me like you know him pretty well

slutabyebaby: that’s surface level stuff nem! I don’t have to be his friend to know that stuff

slutabyebaby: being friends means knowing everything about a person, all the bad stuff and the good stuff!

MOTHERship: this is the part where i remind you that none of us are normal

cuffmedaddy: speak for yourself

MrCollins: really? Mr milk before cereal?

cuffmedaddy: that is normal

MrCollins: i-

MOTHERship: normal people, normal friends, aren’t as codependent or involved as we are

MOTHERship: you’ve known us our whole lives zashi, of course you know everything about us

MOTHERship: if you and I met today, do you really think, within the first couple months, I’d tell you about my miscarriage? 

slutabyebaby: …you wouldn’t?

MOTHERship: i would eventually sweetie but those things are personal and for normal people, kept very close to the chest

MOTHERship: sometimes people never tell the people their closest too things like that

slutabyebaby: that doesn’t sound right

cuffmedaddy: it’s true zash, i have friends at the station who trust me with their life and they can do that without knowing the reason why i hate large bodies of water

MOTHERship: just be patient zash 

MOTHERship: he’s been trying right? After sho talked to him he started eating lunch with me, chatting with Snipe, and walking with you two

MOTHERship: to me that means he wants to be friends

MOTHERship: and the last interaction was a blip in the long run

slutabyebaby: …i guess

MOTHERship: say it with your chest sweetie

slutabyebaby: Shirogane wants to be friends and I need to be more patient

MOTHERship: good 😊 proud of you boo

MOTHERship: Now Shouta Aizawa.

cuffmedaddy: wow, full name

MrCollins: run bitch, run!

edgelord: i’m in danger

MOTHERship: Pray tell, why you felt the need to run a background check on our colleague? The same colleague who just had their confidential information exposed to the world due to someone digging where they shouldn’t? The same one who was hired and vouched for by Nedzu?

edgelord: …he made Zashi sad

slutabyebaby: awwww babe!! 🥰

MrCollins: 🔫 no! Down boy

MOTHERship: Admirable as it is, you agreed to not run background checks on our friends.

MOTHERship: signed and notarized

edgelord: this is different

MOTHERship: Signed. And notarized.

edgelord: …

MOTHERship: and what were the consequences for that?

MrCollins: Walk the plank!!

MrCollins: Maroon his ass on an island with a single shot

slutabyebaby: watched pirates of the caribbean recently havent you tensei

MrCollins: yeah, how could you tell?

cuffmedaddy: Restricted and monitored access to the internet for a month, with the exception of work duties.

MOTHERship: thank you nao. Sho?

edgelord: fine. 

edgelord: but i just want to point out my research has saved all of you a lot of pain and headaches in the past

MrCollins: raise your hand if you’ve had a friend or significant other that has been personally victimized by sho’s interrogation tactics

MOTHERship: ✋️

MrCollins: ✋️

cuffmedaddy: ✋️

slutabyebaby: skill issue

MOTHERship: not all of us marry our high school fight club buddy with benefits

slutabyebaby: skill issue

MOTHERship: SHUT

edgelord: you weren’t complaining when i found out that accountant had a foot fetish in under two minutes

MrCollins: just bc you were right once

edgelord: oh?

edgelord: what about the guy from Tokyo?

MrCollins: …

edgelord: Or the one who wanted to baby trap you?

MrCollins: ALRGIHT

MrCollins: point proven

cuffmedaddy: wait, are you why Satoru isn’t texting me back?

edgelord: he’s part of a cult

edgelord: and weirdly hung up on his ex who started a different cult 

cuffmedaddy: oh

edgelord: you’re welcome

MOTHERship: alright, now that we’ve settled everything, sho, can you do your hacker thing and track down shiro?

cuffmedaddy: i’m right here

MOTHERship: oh sorry nao! 

MOTHERship: *whispers* sho, can you do your hacker thing and track down shiro?

cuffmedaddy: am i a joke to you

edgelord: can’t, restricted internet access

MOTHERship: i-

MrCollins: played yourself 

MOTHERship: it be like that sometimes

MrCollins: it really do

MOTHERship: oh come oooooooon sho

MrCollins: we can have your restrictions start tomorrow! 

MOTHERship: yeah! pretty please?

edgelord: no

MOTHERship: boo you whore

MrCollins: @slutabyebaby come get the stick out yo husbands ass pls

slutabyebaby: oh, it’s not a stick stuck in his ass 😏

MrCollins: nao, arrest him

cuffmedaddy: you’re a pro hero, do it yourself

MrCollins: oh sure when i’m being horny you arrest me but when it’s zash

cuffmedaddy: you don’t have a husband that will peel my skin off if i arrest you

MrCollins: are you victimizing me for being single?

edgelord: you’re victimizing all of us for being single

MrCollins: what?!

edgelord: if i have to hear about snipes biceps one more time

slutabyebaby: or his ‘piercing blue eyes’

MOTHERship: don’t forget his chiseled jaw

cuffmedaddy: or ‘his gun isn’t the only thing i want inside me’

cuffmedaddy: which reminds me, you still owe me for the cost of my therapy bill after hearing that

MrCollins: this is a hate crime

MrCollins: I’m being hate crimed!

edgelord: we’re literally all gay

slutabyebaby: just ask him out and this will all be over

MrCollins: vaguely threatening but no

MOTHERship: do it bitch

MrCollins: No! You’ll never take me alive!

MrCollins: 🏃‍♂️💨

MOTHERship: he does know Snipe’s had a crush on him for ages, right?

slutabyebaby: all those romance books went in one ear and out the other huh

MOTHERship: you thinkin what I’m thinkin?

slutabyebaby: you’re on

cuffmedaddy: 😮‍💨

------------------

the fab the fast the furious

------------------

August 23 2:35 pm

DB: @KB what’s the number for that contractor who fixed the roof last time?

DB: unrelated but what’s the weather like for the next few days

DB: honestly the kitchen ceiling needed a renovation anyway

DB: white ceilings are boring as hell

DB: skylights are very popular right now

DB: @KB?

DB: @BB where’s kb?

BB: not my turn to watch him

BB: and stop blowing up my phone, I’m in a meeting

DB: ha

DB: lame

BB: i said stop

DB: but kb’s missing

BB: he told us he was working on a project, you know how he gets

DB: but he didn’t respond to a hypothetical hole in the roof

BB: there’s a hole in the roof?!

DB: hypothetical. hypothetical hole

DB: hypothetically b+ and jolteon played baseball with a grenade and jolteon hit a home run

BB: told him practicing would pay off

BB: wait. a grenade?! where the fuck do they keep getting those

DB: not important right now

BB: how is that not important

DB: kb is missing

BB: ask the rat?

DB: i don’t like talking to him

BB: fine, just a sec

------------------

Nedzu, +81 054-XXX-XXXX

------------------

August 23 2:52 pm

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: what’ve you done with Shirogane

Nedzu: Pardon me?

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: i don’t think i could’ve been any clearer

Nedzu: I understood the question. However, the implication that I have done something to Shirogane is uncalled for and untrue. Hence the confusion.

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: uncalled for? Bold coming from someone who threatened him on multiple occasions

Nedzu: He also threatened me. And we came to an agreement and moved forward. I would not harm an employee of mine.

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: so why is he missing?

Nedzu: What makes you say he’s missing?

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: he stopped responding to texts

Nedzu: Ah. I did not realize he’d stopped communication. 

Nedzu: He has sequestered himself in my security room and by the looks of it, been there for a while. Would you like to come retrieve him?

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: standby

------------------

in-dick-ment

------------------

August 23 3:02 pm

burntnugget: he’s at UA

ashyass: against his will??

burntnugget: not this time, i think he’s down a rabbit hole with Operation Deepthroat, the rat says he’s locked in the security room

burntnugget: wants to know if we want to retrieve him

ashyass: ugh. If i can avoid the rat I’ll go, i don’t want to deal with this hole

burntnugget: no no no, you don’t get out of that, fix your fucking mess

ashyass: it was b+ and jolteon! 

burntnugget: and they got a bomb under your watch

burntnugget: which, have fun explaining that to kb

ashyass: …

burntnugget: besides

burntnugget: remember? 

burntnugget: Operation Nile?

ashyass: how the hell does that come into this?

burntnugget: you seriously need to buff your intelligence stat

ashyass: say that to my +4 strength

ashyass: i’ll kick your ass

burntnugget: like you could you twig

ashyass: meet me in the billiard room 

burntnugget: you want a candlestick up your ass?

ashyass: not before i put a wrench in your skull

burntnugget: dusty hoe

ashyass: crispy bitch

burntnugget: i’ll tell the rat we’re busy and have him get the blonde one to bring him out

ashyass: oh

ashyass: yeah that’ll work

burntnugget: this is why i’m the brains of the operation

ashyass: billiard room. 6 o’clock

burntnugget: 🖕

------------------

Nedzu, +81 054-XXX-XXXX

------------------

August 23 3:26 pm

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: we can’t make it over

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: send the loud one

Nedzu: I see. 

Nedzu: And who should I say suggested such a plan of action when it inevitably backfires?

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: like you don’t already know who i am

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: bitch

Nedzu: Pleasure speaking with you too. 

Free MSG: Unable to send message-message blocking active

------------------

Father Figure, T-posing in the corner

------------------

August 23 3:30 pm

FatherFigure: Hizashi, do you have a shift at the radio station after your patrol?

T-posinginthecorner: you don’t know? And here I thought you were omniscient smh

FatherFigure: I do know. Just like how I know you got a venti white chocolate hazelnut mocha with oat milk at Beans & Beans five minutes ago and have apprehended five would-be muggers, stopped a car theft, and assisted Best Jeanist in taking down Maroon Menace. However, it is considered polite to ask. 

T-posinginthecorner: 😳

T-posinginthecorner: i don’t know why i’m still surprised by this

T-posinginthecorner: no i don’t have a shift

Father Figure: Thank you. Please come to UA after your patrol. I have a pest problem I need help with.

T-posinginthecorner: i mean sure but you know i don’t like bugs 

FatherFigure: I am aware. You may rest assured it is not insects. 

T-posinginthecorner: somehow that’s more ominous

T-posinginthecorner: but fine, i’ll be there round 4:30

FatherFigure: Thank you Hizashi. See you soon.

------------------

wolfie, kitten

------------------

August 23 4:03 pm

wolfie: dad wants me at UA after patrol so i won’t see you before you head out

kitten: what does he want

wolfie: pest problem i guess?

kitten: and he called you?

wolfie: yeah

wolfie: should i prepare a eulogy ya think

kitten: depends on what you did

wolfie: i don’t think?? i did anything??? 

kitten: when have you not done something

wolfie: ouch

wolfie: dad doesn’t need to do anything

wolfie: when you run me over with a bus like this

wolfie: finalized my eulogy - “Shouta Aizawa did it”

kitten: take me down with you huh

wolfie: like i’d ever let you have a chance at remarrying

wolfie: i’ll drop off my fake set of journals to Nao on my way to UA

wolfie: just to really seal the deal

kitten: you read Gone Girl once

wolfie: have fun in tartarus 

kitten: see you in hell

wolfie: 😘 I’ll keep your seat warm

wolfie: (its my lap)

kitten: yeah i got it

Chapter Text

The air hung heavy and humid over the city as Hizashi left the blessedly cool halls of his hero agency and headed towards UA. Everything was sticky. He was swimming in his leather pants and he felt he was one breath away from suffocating under his directional speaker. 

Crowding onto the train was hell and everyone was grumpy about it. 

He couldn’t even muster up the energy to make small talk with the older man next to him who had a mohawk of bright blue hair and more tattoos than skin showing. His story would absolutely have Hizashi salivating any other day but at the moment, with sweat soaking through his tank top and his hair wilting in the heat, all Hizashi could focus on was getting to UA, and its air conditioning, as fast as possible.

No one bothered him either. Usually he’d have at least a few fans to excitedly chat with on his way but so far not a single person approached him.

It could've been the heat. Everyone too preoccupied with suffering to notice a popular hero in their midst but it probably had more to do with the pissy attitude visibly radiating off of him. He didn’t have quite as impressive of a ‘Don’t Fuck With Me’ face like Sho, but when he felt awful enough he could give him a run for his money.

And feel awful he did. 

He was filled with a restless energy that lashed out at any moment he didn’t have it leashed and he couldn’t even blame his savage side for it. This was all Hizashi.

He’d been terse with his manager at the station, downright mean to the heroes he’d been forced to patrol with, and the number of villains he’d left with bleeding eardrums had taken a noticeable hike up. 

His PR guy, Mashiro, had a few choice words for him about that one and it had turned into an altercation in record time. Logically Hizashi knew he was trying to look out for him and any other day he’d take the criticism at face value and reflect on his actions.

But logical Hizashi was on vacation, somewhere warm and sunny and calm, which left emotional Hizashi to take charge and all HE heard was someone berating him for being bad at his job. Again. 

He wasn’t about to let another attack on his competence pass unchallenged like it had the first time.

The resulting screaming match had been intense. They’d both had to be dragged back from each other by other heroes, both of them still yelling and flipping each other off. 

By some miracle Hizashi hadn’t used his quirk. He could picture the headline now-

“Pro Hero Temper Tantrum! Couldn’t Handle Petty Insults from Friend and Turned PR Coworker to Mush!”

So yeah. He was more than likely going to be looking at a resignation letter tomorrow morning and it certainly wasn’t helping his mood to think about it.

The slimmest silver lining in his thundercloud of a shitty mood, was that Shouta hadn’t taken the brunt of it. Maybe because he agreed with all the reasons for it or because he looked like a sad, pouting kitten whenever Hizashi’s anger threatened to spill over. Whatever it was, Hizashi only felt calm when he was around his husband.

Being safe from his temper didn’t stop Sho from doing anything he could to help though.

A few nights ago he’d offered an extracurricular night, flashing the ID he’d lifted off one of the men that’d been harrassing Nem and Shirogane on his birthday. However, they couldn’t kill them. Just lightly threaten and terrorize. 

Apparently all of them were being hit with a major lawsuit and their deaths would be “highly publicized” and the “risk of exposure too great” or something. Hizashi couldn’t recall. He’d checked out the second he heard there were restrictions. 

Because as much as Hizashi was foaming at the mouth to sink into his wolf and let loose, with a limitation set in place, he couldn’t do it. They’d done modified extracurricular nights before, when killing didn’t fit the bill of transgressions but with the angry swirl of emotions muddling his control, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from slitting their throats. 

Shouta would try to stop him, but it wouldn’t work. 

And to top it all off! His therapist was unavailable, something about a sabbatical or retreat in the mountains? Hizashi didn’t know. He’d stopped listening again the second he’d heard that it’d be another month before he could get in. 

With no healthy outlet for it all, his annoyance with Shirogane’s insults and subsequent avoidance grew into frustration which rapidly morphed into anger and now he was ready to snap at the next minor inconvenience. 

Which would happen sooner rather than later, if Nedzu was lying about the pest problem not being bugs.

Would he lie to you though?  

Yes.

If he thought it was for Hizashi’s own good or to keep him safe, there wasn’t much Nedzu wouldn’t do. But as much as Hizashi wracked his brain he couldn’t come up with a single thing he’d done or would be in danger of that would warrant triggering his entomophobia. 

Mentally catastrophizing, he wandered onto UA’s campus without realizing it. He returned to reality as he walked into a wave of cool air. He took a moment to revel in it but a bead of sweat dropped down his back and into his asscrack and ruined the moment.

Once again irritated beyond belief, he stomped to Nedzu’s office.

Even in the summer he would be found here, diligently working through paperwork or whatever new schemes he’d concocted. Shouta had sworn up and down he’d found a small little apartment within the vent system that had to be Nedzu’s but Hizashi didn’t quite believe it.

Nedzu was crazy but he wasn’t that crazy. Probably.

“Good afternoon Hizashi, thank you for coming.” 

He dropped into the seat across from his father figure. The pillows still hadn’t made a reappearance but the plant had been replaced with a cactus. A single pink flower sat at the top.

“Hey dad. What’s this pest control problem about?” 

Just as he and Sho kept their marriage under wraps, they downplayed their relationship with Nedzu when around others. For safety reasons, Nedzu had some formidable enemies, but also to dissuade rumors of nepotism or favoritism. But in private, they allowed a modicum of affection.

“Nothing terrible. There’s a rather resilient nuisance in the security room I was hoping you could remove for an extended period of time.”

Resilient nuisance? Extended period of time? So he was supposed to return- nope. Hizashi couldn’t do it. He didn’t have the energy for a game of riddles.

“Can’t you just tell me what’s in there?”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Nedzu’s whiskers twitched in the way they did when he was holding in laughter. So his instincts were right. There was something more to this beyond just a simple extraction. Still-

“Not bugs though?”

“No Hizashi, not bugs.”

“Fine.” 

A rather terse reply but Hizashi was past caring. Without further acknowledgement, Hizashi peeled himself out of the chair and stomped back out. He’d feel bad about how he left Nedzu later. Right now he just wanted this over with.

Luckily, he remembered where the security room even was. It would’ve been way too embarrassing to walk back to Nedzu to ask.

It was colder in the basement, enough to give him goosebumps and regret not bringing his jacket. Which was a blasphemous thought to have this deep into summer.

The security room door was unobtrusive, tucked into a corner with a slowly blinking light above it because of course it had to look like every shitty horror movie cliche. Using his anger to burn away the creeping fingers of fear, Hizashi barged right up to the door.

It gave no clue as to what lay beyond it. No tiny window to peek through, no light coming from under its base. It was also locked. Because again, of course it was.

Deciding to take this as a therapeutic moment, Hizashi braced himself, lifted a steel toed leather boot, and slammed his foot into the door.

It crashed open. Loudly. 

High on the thrill of that small destruction, he rushed in, disregarding the darkness beyond the door frame. 

He caught a glimpse of a figure sitting in front of a dozen or so screens, white hair aglow in the flickering light and smudges of dark ink along a bare forearm but all surprise or thought about the figure vanished as he tripped.

His shoulder slammed into the ground first and the rest of his body painfully followed. Except his feet, which were caught up in boxes? Whatever they were, he felt their weight shift as his feet dragged them forward and in slow motion, they started to topple.

Loud thuds sounded near his head and then a sharp corner dug into his thigh and another box landed on his chest. Sheets of paper fluttered down looking like a weird snowfall in the dim glow of the TVs and the blinking light from the hallway.

He lay there, letting himself wallow in the dark. The pain was inconsequential, he’d been roughed up worse before, but he couldn’t help but feel that somewhere, somehow, some masochist was directing his life like a movie and laughing at his misery.

His eyes exploded with pain as blinding fluorescent lights beamed down at him and he wailed, trying to throw a hand up to his eyes but they were pinned by the boxes.

“Ack! Fuck! Warn a guy!”

“Yamada?!”

As Hizashi struggled to blink the tears out of his eyes, a blurry shape blocked the lights above him and large blocky glasses and a mess of brown hair swam into focus.

“Shirogane?”

“Yes. Hello. What are you doing?”

“Being suffocated by boxes, what does it look like?” He snapped, trying to sit up. 

Shirogane’s face pinched briefly before nodding and he helped to shift the boxes off. He stretched when he was free, checking to make sure all he’d gotten was bruises before turning back to Nedzu’s pest problem.

And was left with confusion. And a small bit of gratification. 

...

Okay, a large bit of gratification.

Shirogane looked awful.

His hair was a mess, piled high in a bun with numerous, slightly greasy, chunks hanging out of it. He was wearing a gray button up but it was a far cry from his usual clean cut style. This shirt was wrinkled to high hell, the cuffs pulled past his elbows and the buttons all out of order. 

But even beyond the physical disarray, Shirogane felt… vacant? Hizashi couldn’t pinpoint what made him think so, but he looked at the man before him and was abruptly reminded of a paper lantern, nearly transparent and fragile. And one bad breeze away from catching fire or floating away. 

“Are you hurt anywhere?” 

Shirogane was looking him over with genuine concern and Hizashi felt all his anger flood back in full force, easily disregarding the fragility he sensed from him in favor of speaking his mind.

“I’m curious as to why you’d start caring now?” He lashed out, tone mocking. It’d been weeks since his harsh words but Shirogane flinched and dropped his eyes. 

Good. He remembered. He started twisting his ring fast enough Hizashi thought he might catch his pinky on fire.

“I… deserved that.” He said haltingly. 

“Yeah no shit.” Hizashi sneered, crossing his arms and straightening to his full height so he could more effectively glare down at Shirogane. “You insult me and Sho, don’t apologize for it or offer any explanation, and then disappear off the face of the earth? What the fuck Shirogane? Do you know how worried I’ve been? I thought you’d been killed by an anti-quirkless group or that you’d been kidnapped or, or, or that you were under the influence of a quirk! I don’t know! I had no way of knowing why you ghosted all of us!” 

Hizashi paused. Wait a second. He was supposed to be yelling at Shirogane for being a bitch, not implying he’d been concerned about him. Better turn it around with a solid wrap up statement-

“Which! All that worry? Against my will! I didn’t want to worry about you, trust me! Because you were kinda a bitch the last time we spoke, ya feel?”

Nailed it.

Shirogane withered under Hizashi’s rant, looking deeply uncomfortable as he fidgeted. To his credit he allowed Hizashi to speak his peace and waited for him to be completely done before taking a deep breath and looking up with pure repentance on his face. 

“I’m sorry Yamada. All I have are excuses that you don’t want to hear. And they don’t matter. What matters is that I hurt you with my careless words and I am sorry. I will work tirelessly to be more responsible with what I say to those I care about.”

“And?”

Shirogane sucked in another deep breath before speaking again.

“And I am sorry for not speaking with you after. Again, all I have are excuses but it was still wrong of me to ignore you.”

It was a good apology. Pretty textbook, but heart felt. 

Hizashi wasn’t appeased. Not yet. 

He kept quiet as he rolled the apology over in his mind, watching Shirogane’s fidgeting grow more frantic as the silence grew between them.

“I do want to hear the excuses.”

“What?”

“You said all you have are excuses I don’t want to hear but I do. Tell me why you think Sho and I are endangering our students. Tell me what was so important you couldn’t text me back.”

Pretty brown eyes blinked up at him in surprise. Shirogane had obviously not been prepared for a push back on his apology yet he didn’t answer right away, eyes flicking back towards the monitors and biting his bottom lip. 

There wasn’t room to pace, the floor still littered with boxes and paper, so Hizashi uncrossed his arms and started signing as he spoke, needing to somehow expel the bubbling energy inside him.

“This right here is why I’m mad, Shirogane. You can call me all the names in the book, honestly the cleverer the insult, the more impressed I am. And it’s hard, but I can even handle my friends not speaking to me. Hell, there was a period of three weeks where Nem ignored me because I got too drunk at a charity gala of hers and ruined her night. But I could handle it because I knew why and could work to apologize and rectify my behavior. So I want to know your excuses. I want to know why.” 

He dropped his hands when he was done, Shirogane following them before dropping his eyes the rest of the way to the floor. He wasn’t fidgeting anymore.  

Hizashi thought his anger would increase with each second Shirogane remained silent but he found it dropping away instead. In its place, a gray sadness was rising. He couldn’t do this. 

“It’s fine, you don’t have to answer. I’ll just go-”

“Wait!”

A cool hand gripped his elbow briefly before dropping. Hizashi turned back towards Shirogane to find his face pinched in annoyance. 

“What is with you two not giving people time to process things.” He muttered crossly before squaring his shoulders. “I’ll try.”

“Try what?” Hizashi asked, not allowing himself to hope before Shirogane could explain.

“I will try to explain my excuses. But the specifics of the research I am doing,” he gestured towards the monitors, “is not something I can tell you about. So the details may be found wanting. Is that acceptable?”

“Can I ask questions?”

“Only if you do not get mad when I don’t answer them.” He looked weary and uncertain how Hizashi would respond. Considering an interrogation is what kickstarted this, Hizashi could understand his reluctance.

“Deal.” He agreed. It was marginal, but he tended to have better self control than Shouta.

Shirogane eyed him as if assessing whether he could be believed before nodding to himself.

“Very well.” He, somehow, was able to pace. His shorter legs probably helped but even so, he only managed three steps one way before spinning and walking five paces the other way. His eyes were firmly fixed on the ground but Hizashi allowed it if it meant getting answers.

“In the course of teaching here, I became aware of a teacher that… does not meet the standards required of UA. I thought you and Sho were aware of their… shortcomings and did nothing to stop them.”

Okaaaaay maybe this wasn’t going to go well. That answer was so vague it left Hizashi with more questions than he’d started with. Yet it was enough for him to connect a few dots. There was only one teacher Hizashi knew fit the description after all. 

Oooooh I’m going to rub this in Sho’s face so hard, I knew I was right.

“Hmmmm okay, I can see why you’d be mad. I probably would’ve acted the same way, if not worse, depending on what “not meeting the standards of UA” means I guess. But why didn’t you just ask us?”

“All this,” he gestured towards the monitors without looking, still gazing at the floor beneath his feet as he paced. “requires an unbiased opinion. I had no intention of ever allowing any teacher to know of my research. To do so would risk skewing the results.”

“But you’re telling me now?”

“I am.” 

“Oh.” Hizashi felt he knew but he needed to be sure. “Why?”

“Because you asked.” Brown eyes turned up to him and for a moment, neither of them moved. Hizashi relished in the smug satisfaction that oozed through him. 

Sho got him to socialize with them. Nem got first nickname. 

But Hizashi was the first one privy to a confidential research project. Even if it wasn’t everything, even if details were being left out, it meant something.

And it wasn’t just that he asked. It couldn’t have been. Shouta had been incessantly nagging and Shirogane had never budged an inch.

This was proof. He meant something to Shirogane.

“What changed your mind then?”

Shirogane shrugged. “My research. The further I got into it, the more I came to realize you both just didn’t know.”

“Know what?” Hizashi tried. Shirogane’s lips thinned.

“I cannot tell you that.” He’d straightened before answering, looking like he was trying to physically bolster himself in case Hizashi took a page from Shouta’s book and kept badgering him.

“Okay.” Hizashi simply said. 

They both waited a beat, Shirogane still tense and Hizashi understanding he needed a moment to trust him. He waited for Shirogane to relax before asking another question.

“Why not reach out then?” 

“Ah um.” Shirogane resumed pacing, tugging at his sleeves. “Well by the time I realized I was wrong, I had gotten fixated on my research and lost track of time?” He sighed and dropped his hands, coming to a halt before Hizashi.

“That’s not really why. I mean, I did lose track of time but it was more that… well you see it’s been a while since I’ve had people that I…” He shrugged helplessly. “I just didn’t want to say the wrong thing again.”

“Shirogane, I’d rather you say the wrong thing than nothing at all.” Hizashi said.

He still seemed unsure, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“Trust me, whatever you think you’d say that would hurt me cannot be worse than what I heard as a kid. Or now. Do you know how annoyingly accurate a teenager's insults can be? I was called a ‘tone deaf parakeet in a gimp suit’ by a first year and I had to give him detention while fighting back tears.”

Soft laughter eased the lines of worry on Shirogane’s face. “I don’t know if it counts, but I was told I looked like a yarn store barfed on me.” 

“See! Little shits, I wish I had been that clever when I was younger.”

“I can’t imagine a time when you wouldn’t have had a witty quip ready to fire.”

“Nah, I led with fists back then. Figured nobody could insult you if their jaw was broken.”

“Personally, I don’t see a flaw in your reasoning.”

“I still don’t really but Nedzu assures me it’s better for “public image” if I don’t punch people or some shit like that.”

“Well, Nedzu’s word is law.” Shirogane said, sarcasm thick. 

“You’d know, you’re the lawyer.” Hizashi teased. 

Shirogane rolled his eyes. A swoop of happiness went through Hizashi at the action. Ah. He hadn’t realized part of his anger was fueled by sadness at losing this easy repartee. At losing his friend.

“Wait! Wait, wait, we’ve gotten off track. Sheesh you’re so easy to talk to that I keep forgetting I’m supposed to be mad at you!”

Honest to god Shirogane actually pouted at him.

“I apologized though?”

Fuuuuck I’m too gay for this. I can’t let Shirogane know I have a weakness for that doe-eyed look! It’s bad enough Sho abuses his pout power, I can’t add another!

“Fine, I’m not really mad any more.”

Nailed it.

“But promise you won’t go radio silent again.” He said sternly, pointing his finger down at Shirogane who raised his hands in surrender, looking a smidge too pleased with himself.

“I promise to try.”

“Good enough.” 

“Can I ask you a question now?”

“Fire away! I’m an open book!”

“How did you know I was down here?”

“Oh, Nedzu sent me. He said he had a pest problem in the security room that he needed my help with.”

“A pest problem? That’s rich coming from the actual rodent.” Shirogane said, his levity dropping into annoyance.

“Wooah, he does not like being called a rodent.”

“I’ll call that rat whatever I want- wait. Why did he send you?” 

“I’m assuming it’s because he knew we had a fight and wanted to meddle? On account of him being an omniscient overlord and all that.”

“No, no, that doesn’t make sense.”

“It… doesn’t?”

“No, why would he send you when those two…” Shirogane trailed off, looking into the middle distance with widening eyes. If this were a cartoon, Hizashi was sure a light bulb would’ve been pinging above his head. 

“Those bastards.” He whispered to himself. “I am going to kill them.” 

“Who? I can help.” Hizashi offered. 

“My own meddling nuisances. No matter, I’ll deal with them later. Did your lord and savior Nedzu have any other task for you besides figuring out who the mysterious pest was?”

No longer pissed beyond reason, Hizashi reran through the riddle Nedzu had given him earlier. Which, now that he re-evaluated, wasn’t much of a riddle actually.

“I’m supposed to take you out of this room for an extended period of time.”

Shirogane huffed. “Very well. Let me clean this up a bit and then we can go.”

He turned to the computers and started shutting them off and moving stacks of paper from one side of the small desk to the other.

Taking it as permission to look, Hizashi immediately zeroed in on gathering as many details as possible from the desk that’d been hovering on the periphery of his attention the whole time.

It was as much a mess as Shirogane.

The monitors were clicked off quickly but Hizashi caught scenes of hallways filled with students before they went black. Papers were stacked haphazardly and numerous notebooks were scattered about, filled with an incomprehensible scrawl. The longer he looked though, the more he realized something was missing.

He’d seen Shouta in the midst of hyperfixating on case work or research many times and even he had his moments while writing up interview questions or investigating his sources where he lost track of all time. So he was intimately aware of what the surrounding area should look like once the hyperfocus relinquished its hold. 

Shirogane’s hyperfocus project nest was missing the trash. 

There was no sign of coffee stained cups or crumpled water bottles. No questionable take out boxes with stale food in their corners or snack wrappers wedged in any available corner. Hizashi even peeked in the trash can but found it empty.

“When was the last time you ate?” He asked, running a critical eye over him. His usual large sweaters and puffy cardigans made it difficult to compare his current physique to a normal baseline. But he looked scrawnier than normal. His collarbones were prominent underneath the poorly buttoned shirt and his wrists were on the unhealthy side of bony. 

Shirogane paused, the stack of papers he’d definitely already moved once hovering over their new destination.

“It was recent. I think… What day is it?” 

Hizashi stared at him in disbelief. “Well that was the exact wrong answer. How can you not know when you ate last? Not even Sho is that bad.”

“It’s fine, a healthy adult can go a month without food. Three months with the right conditions.”

“Just because they can, does not mean they should! Seriously Shirogane, for how much you go on about food, I would’ve expected better from you.”

“I just lost track of time! My god, you’re more a mother hen than a parakeet.”

“Rude. At the very least I’m a male chicken. Get it? Cuz of all the co-” A notebook smacked into his chest and fell to the floor.

“Do not finish that sentence.”

“Fiiiiiine. Let’s go, even if you’re fine with not eating for days, I am starving and I had lunch like five hours ago.”

“No one likes a show off.” Shirogane muttered but acquiesced, stepping past him towards the door. As he followed after, Hizashi caught a whiff of staleness. It wasn’t overpowering but wasn’t pleasant. That, combined with his rather crumpled look… yeesh.

“Don’t take this the wrong way my guy, but how about we stop by the teachers locker room and shower first?”

“Do I offend your senses Yamada?” Shirogane asked dryly but he did pick at his wrinkled shirt with a scrunched nose. They traveled back up into the sunlight and headed towards the locker room which thankfully wasn’t too far away.

“Only two of them so not bad odds overall.”

“Sight and smell I assume. But one third is still more than I’d like to offend.”

“A third? What’s my sixth sense then? Fashion?” He struck a pose with each step, pretending to vogue down the hallway, knowing his sweat soaked tank top and bright yellow pants were hardly model material. But it got a laugh out of Shirogane which was what he’d wanted.

“Make that seven senses then. Your sixth is a sense for strays.”

He paused in a pose, a half lunge with his hands on his hips. Shirogane didn’t look like he was teasing. 

“I’m flattered… I think? But you’ve got it wrong, Sho’s the one with a thing for strays. All our cats are ones he’s picked up during patrol.”

“I didn’t mean animals.”

With that vague statement, Shirogane pushed through the door to the locker room leaving Hizashi confused in the hall. He quickly shouldered through the door, a follow up question on his tongue but it died before he could speak it into existence.

Shirogane was unbuttoning his shirt.

Fuuuuuck! Tensei was right! Anything is a strip tease as long as there’s someone around to be horny for it. He mentally smacked himself. Oh my god, get it together! He’s just undressing. What else would you do in a locker room? You’ve seen hundreds of heroes naked, this can’t be THAT erotic!

It was. 

For some godforsaken reason, it felt wildly more intimate than half the things he’d done with Shouta. With each new inch of smooth brown chest exposed, the dirtier Hizashi felt, his dick twitching in his pants.

The shirt fell away and Hizashi almost bashed his head into his locker. He had to rip his eyes away from the unintentional striptease happening beside him and over focus on removing his own hero costume, breaking it down into easy steps.

Spritz some alcohol over his hairline. While that soaked in, remove speaker. Take a deep breath of relief at having nothing around his neck. 

Peel off tank top. Take a comb and slip the end of it under the lace of his wig and work on loosening it to tug it off. Set wig in locker. And now the fun part. Removing his stupid leather pants. 

He really needed to talk to Mashiro about getting a wardrobe makeover. 

…If Mashiro was still his employee tomorrow. Oh god, he’d been a real asshole to everyone lately, hadn’t he? Lot’s of apologies and flowers were in his future.

“Your hair… is a wig?!” 

The shout startled him into looking over and he immediately blue screened. Shirogane was right beside him with only a towel wrapped low around his waist, his stomach at eye level with Hizashi as he’d sat down to begin peeling out of his pants. 

“Uh- Yeah! You think I put that much product in my hair every day? Puh-lease, that’d be a logistical nightmare. It’s all my hair still, just duplicated by a quirk and made into a wig!” Thank any god listening he’d trained his vocal cords to perfection. That had managed to come out normal and even. 

He could see Shirogane’s leg hair. Leg. Hair. 

He didn’t dare linger on his stomach, sure seeing any sort of hair near his pelvis would ruin any chance of thought capabilities for the whole day. 

Instead he quickly looked up to Shirogane’s face where brown eyes sparkled with mirth. 

“Wow. I never would have guessed.”

“Industry secret.” He winked. “Helps keep the fans from swarming me when I’m not on duty. You’d be surprised how a change in hair style makes one invisible.”

“Not so surprised. I’ve done something similar in the past. But I never thought of wigs for some reason. Ingenious Yamada.”

He blushed at the compliment, not ready for it and still recuperating from the nakedness and closeness of the other man. Unbidden, his eyes dropped to his chest and he blanched. 

Shirogane’s skin was as smooth and unmarked as his face but it was stretched tight across his ribs, enough to indent between each bone.

A wash of concern overrode his horniness. Forgetting to eat for a few days did not cause that. 

He looked starved. 

Shirogane turned away and headed for the showers before Hizashi could gather his wits, leaving him to stare at the soft swell of his ass under the towel. 

Three deep breaths. His head thunked back on his locker. 

Why did Shirogane look like the kids Hizashi had rescued from an abusive home, malnourished and more bone than muscle? 

Was it an eating disorder? As an adult Shirogane would have control over his own food intake, unlike the children who relied on the adults to provide but that wouldn’t stop an eating disorder. Unless that was why he didn’t want to talk about his family? Were they-

The smack of water hitting tile snapped Hizashi out of his thoughts. Now wasn’t the time. He could strategize with Sho later but for now, all he could do was make sure Shirogane ate today.

Resolved, Hizashi finally managed to free his legs from their confinement and headed to the showers, firmly avoiding the stall that held a naked Shirogane. The cold water was just the jolt to his system he needed. It shocked away any lingering negativity he’d been brewing in and made him feel new. 

Unfortunately, being made new did not prepare Hizashi in any way to step back into the locker room and be greeted by the sight of Shirogane not only in just a towel, but now dripping wet, frowning into his locker.

Hizashi had not thought he’d be into the starving wet rat look, but apparently that was a thing for him. His dick really needed to learn discernment.

“Why the long face?” Oh thank god it came out normal again. He was going to have to send himself flowers for training so hard when he was younger.

“I don’t have a spare change of clothes. I could have sworn I put one in here at the beginning of the year.”

He frowned some more into his locker before eyeing his sad pile of old clothes on the floor with disgust. Hizashi balked and quickly stepped in.

“Oh hell no. You aren’t wearing those rags again. Here, I have extra clothes.” He tugged out his bright yellow duffel and zipped it open with a flourish. “Take your pick! I like to give myself options. You never know if it’s a grunge look day or a rocker look day until you’re staring at your wardrobe, ya feel?” 

“I guess…?” He approached cautiously, like the duffel had a bomb, and snatched the first available combination. 

“You can look through it more, ya know.” Hizashi laughed.

“No, no, this is fine.” He muttered as he turned back to his locker. Hizashi shrugged but picked out his own outfit and together they dressed back to back in silence.

Hizashi had severely miscalculated. Again. 

So far, he hadn’t been concerned over his attraction towards Shirogane. He was handsome, in a regal way, and fiesty enough to interest him. But Hizashi found a lot of people attractive so he hadn’t put much thought into it. 

But when he turned around and took in the sight before him, his wolf abruptly joined the party. It rattled his ribs with the force of its throw, desperately trying to get out and pounce and consume. 

Unaware of Hizashi’s struggle, Shirogane was idly finger combing through his thick wet hair, working to tame it into a braid. He was wearing an old, artfully holey, Put Your Hands Up Radio shirt that was black with bright gold font. It was too big on him. Loose around his neck, giving coy glimpses of collarbones and dropping to just below the crease of his ass. An ass clad in teal leggings, slightly too baggy but still tight enough to show definition.

Shouta never wore anything of Hizashi’s, complaining the material was too itchy or too tight. So Hizashi was wholly unprepared for the wave of possessiveness that swept through him at the sight of Shirogane wearing his clothes.

Using more self control than he thought he had, Hizashi shoved his wolf back behind bars and set about packing things up and getting ready to go. 

They left, Hizashi grimacing at stepping back into the wall of humidity, especially after washing off all the sweat. But Shirogane breathed deep and seemed to relax even further, releasing a tension that Hizashi hadn’t noticed he’d been carrying.

Neither were terribly picky eaters so they chose the first burger joint they came across. Not terribly healthy, but high in calories which is what Hizashi figured mattered most when feeding someone potentially suffering from malnutrition.

Because it didn’t seem like an eating disorder with the way Shirogane dove into the stack of burgers with abandon, as if he’d forgotten he was hungry until that very moment. He’d have to watch him after though, just to make sure.

They ate in silence, Shirogane consuming burgers in under four bites each time and Hizashi happy to let him.

With no conversation to distract him, he started watching the people in the surrounding booths, instinctively dropping back into his hobby. Nobody immediately stood out to him as interesting, at least, not more interesting than his current dinner companion but the longer he looked, the more he noticed something.

The people closest to them seemed… uncomfortable? It was the nearest Hizashi could figure. The older couple across the aisle were side-eyeing them and slowly shifting further towards the wall as if trying to get as far away as possible.

A mother in the booth behind the couple tugged her daughter out, slapped a wad of cash down and quickly walked them both out, shooting loaded glances over her shoulder.

Nobody else had that extreme of a reaction, but the rest still looked nervous. Everyone was angled away from their booth or looking anywhere else while still trying to keep an eye on them.

Hizashi stopped eating to observe. It couldn’t be homophobia, could it? They probably did look like a couple at the moment and the irrational hatred still lingered in some people like a piece of old gum under a desk but the whole restaurant? Seemed unlikely.

But what else could it be? They’d both showered and neither of them were wearing anything too revealing or immodest. Hizashi turned to the elderly couple who were now pressed against the wall and hurriedly chewing the last bites of their food.

“Leave it.” He jerked and turned back to Shirogane. He was watching him over an empty tray, his eyes sad as he licked his fingers clean. 

“Leave what?”

“You were about to ask them,” he gestured towards the couple now exiting their booth who startled at his movement and ducked their heads, shuffling fast towards the door. “Why they seemed offended, weren’t you?”

“Well yeah! You noticed it too? Everyone seems to be uncomfortable with us and I just want to know why!”

“It’s not us, Yamada. People are uncomfortable with me.”

Hizashi was about to retort but then he glanced around again and Shirogane was right. Every shift and worried glance was directed at Shirogane, not at them as a whole.

“I unsettle people.” Shirogane answered before Hizashi could ask. “I always have. It doesn’t bother me.”

“How can it not?”

Shirogane shrugged. He did look the perfect picture of unconcerned, the sadness from earlier gone.

Hizashi didn’t believe it. How could he be unaffected by everyone treating him like he was contagious? No one was really being subtle about it either. Maybe it was just a one off? He couldn’t recall anybody else reacting towards Shirogane like this. 

“This happens often?” A nod. “I’ve never noticed…”

Then again, he’d only really hung out with Shirogane within UA’s borders. And the one time they’d been out in the city, he’d been slightly intoxicated and they’d been surrounded by their friends the whole time. 

“Heroes have a higher threshold for oddness. It’s one of the reasons why I enjoy working at UA so much. None of you treat me any different.”

“Of course not! I don’t find you unsettling in the slightest. Seriously, Shirogane, I’ve never felt uncomfortable around you.” Hizashi pressed, intent on making sure he knew that.

Shirogane gave him a soft smile. “Thank you Yamada. You’ll never know how much I appreciate that.”

“No need to thank me! It’s what friends are for.”

He smiled again but Hizashi still felt there was something behind it, most likely the sadness from earlier. Either way, he knew he wasn’t as unaffected by the others as he claimed to be. He cast about for something to distract him and nearly jumped out of his seat when an idea came to him.

“Saaaaay, ya wanna sneak up on Shouta and Midoriya? They should be training right about now and I happen to know where they are!” Hizashi sung that last bit, wiggling his eyebrows over his glasses. It worked like a charm, Shirogane’s grin was wider than before, dimples appearing and crinkles deepening in the corner of his eyes.

“Wouldn’t it be much more generous of us to assist in his training rather than simply sneak up on them?”

“Generosity IS the first thing people associate us with, outside of our charm and beauty.” Hizashi mused, twirling the end of his mustache. “What, exactly, did you have in mind?”

“An opportunity to give a lesson on situational awareness and a harmless consequence for failing.”

Hizashi found his grin stretching wide and ignored the other diners who flinched at the sight in favor of seeing Shirogane smile just as toothily at him.

“Sounds perfect.” He purred. “And as custodians of future pro-hero students, I would even say we are duty bound to do so.”

“Then shall we give them both a lesson?”

“We shall.” 

They giggled their way out of the restaurant and into the heat of the evening, easily disregarding the other customers who shivered as they passed.

Chapter Text

Shouta had been right, the kid had potential. 

And as loath as he was to admit it, Shirogane had been right as well. They were a good pair as a mentor and mentee. 

He took instruction well. Shouta rarely had to repeat himself when giving corrections, at most twice if the concept was tricky. But in those instances the kid would scribble it down in his notebook, mumble over it for a minute with his face screwed up in concentration, and then immediately work to put it in action.

And he could tell the kid appreciated Shouta treating him as a fully capable person, expecting just as much from him as he would his current students and not holding back due to his quirklessness.

In the few weeks they’d been training together, Midoriya had started to flourish under his tutelage and Shouta found himself stupidly proud of the kid.

When Nedzu had bullied him and Hizashi into becoming teachers, he never thought he’d enjoy it. He knew Hizashi would. It was a perfect fit for him with his bright and engaging personality and his tendency to imprint on any kid like a momma duck to her goslings.

But that first day, when he walked into a class full of hero hopefuls and looked at the mix of nerves and excitement on their faces, he saw their raw potential and got attached. 

In that moment, he knew he would break himself down piece by piece if it meant they got a chance to be the kinds of heroes Shouta saw in them. And more importantly, he would break them down piece by piece to do it too.

Much like a metalworker and with much the same enthusiasm, he put them through hell. He trained their minds and bodies with repetitive applications of pressure (logical ruses) and regular exposure to flames and fire (extreme physical training) before dousing them with reality checks and lectures.

Some students fractured under his care, unable to withstand the rigors of training and so Shouta cut them loose. They hated him for it but he didn’t care. 

Hero work was not forgiving. So why should he be?

Hero work was training your volatile voice quirk till your throat bled and you lost your hearing for good.

It was overexerting your mental quirk and ending up passing out while on patrol, being saved from shattering your body on the cold concrete only by luck and an overflowing garbage bin. 

It was collapsed buildings cutting off a life before it even really began. It was bodies growing cold after you arrived seconds too late to help. It was dark patrols that ended in punctured lungs and mental scars that therapy could only take the edge off of.

No sane person chose this profession and survived it. 

So Shouta would take the hate. He’d take the blistering emails from parents angry at his decision to drop their kid from his course. He’d take the tearful or angry tirades of the kids he sent to the General Course. He’d even take the disappointed look from Nedzu as he expels another class after they showed no promise.

If it meant they got to live, Shouta would take all of it.

They’re kids. They aren’t supposed to see death or have to mentally prepare for the possibility of life long, debilitating injuries and Shouta would spare as many as he could from that fate. But he couldn’t expel every student.    

The world needed its heroes.

So Shouta would be damned before he lets anyone else teach his students. He’s unkind and strict but he makes sure when his kids graduate, they are as prepared as they can be to face the world and make it through alive.

It’s only vaguely rewarding too. Not that Shouta needs to have his efforts validated, but occasionally he’ll see a past student on TV or read an interview and feel comforted that they’re doing well. That his training kept them alive.

The true reward was uncovering the ones with astronomical potential. 

Rare enough for a whole class to be moderately decent. But to come across a student with the potential to shake the heavens? 

Improbable.

But here he was, standing in a dingy park in a rougher part of town, watching over a twig of a child push himself through his last set of pull ups and trying very hard to deny how attached he was getting.

The world's first quirkless hero. It could change everything.

He’d have to survive Shouta’s training first of course, but he was starting to show signs of a very nice stubborn streak and had enough grit to file a blade on so Shouta wasn’t overly worried about that. 

What he was worried about had him calling a halt to Midoriya’s last set before he’d finished.

“Stop. Come here kid.”

Luckily the stubborn streak hadn’t extended to him disobeying Shouta. Yet. He dropped down immediately and jogged over as he shook his arms, no doubt trying to get life back into them. He’d had him doing pull ups for a while at this point.

He stopped in front of Shouta and stared up at him expectantly, waiting for whatever correction or new training he’d usually suggest.

He had a different lecture in mind.

“What’s the second rule of hero work.”

“Don’t be dumb!” He immediately recited. Oh right. He’d forgotten he’d shortened that one.

“What’s the long answer?”

“Respect and understand your physical limitations. You can’t save people if your body gives out.”

“Right.” He settled back on his heels and crossed his arms, knowing his quirk was getting dangerously close to bleeding into his scowl. “Then care to explain why you showed up to training injured? And. Didn’t. Tell. Me.”

The kid gulped. His excitement whenever Shouta turned on his quirk quickly slipping into fear. And guilt. 

Shouta had to hand it to him, he’d been good. Too good.

It’d taken about ten minutes for Shouta to pick up on his small tells, a quickly stifled wince after a certain movement and the slight favoring of his left arm. It’d gotten more obvious as the training continued before Shouta finally called a halt.

“Explain. Now.” He seethed. 

“It’s n-n-nothing!” Small trembling hands waved in the air in front of him. 

“I’m not blind kid, you’re obviously hurt!”

“I’m fine! I can still train!”  

Rage whipped through him and he had to force himself back from wrapping the kid up in his scarf and shaking some sense into him. Instead he took a deep breath and his scarf settled back around his shoulders.

“No. We’re done.”

Devastation cracked across the kid's face and he crumpled into himself though he tried valiantly to maintain his composure.

“Ok-okay.” He choked. “Th-thank you for your-your time Eraserhe-head.” He started shuffling towards his apartment and Shouta quickly shot in front of him.

“I meant we’re done with the physical aspect. There’s other training we can do.”

Wet sniffles and confused green eyes peeked out past a fringe of green hair.

“You’re… you’re s-still going to-to train me?”

“Yes.” He said in exasperation. He knew that Midoriya had probably spent his life after four years old tempering his expectations and always being ready for disappointment. But it’d been weeks and Shouta had hoped the kid would trust him enough at this point to know he wasn’t about to give up on him.

“Oh..” The word was feather soft, dropping from the kids lips in amazement.

“Look, kid. I won’t ask what happened. But you need to tell me if you’re hurt.”

His nose scrunched and Shouta scoffed.

“I don’t give a shit if you don’t like it. You tell me. Even if it’s just a splinter or you stubbed your toe. Or I really will stop training you.”

“B-but a splinter is insignificant! I can’t bother you with that!” The kid said, aghast.

“You will. Untreated splinters can go deep, get infected, lead to fevers which can lead to death.”

A slight exaggeration but the ashen look on the kids face was worth it. He paused to try and figure out how to best explain to the kid. Sometimes the emotional route worked best but for him and his notebooks, maybe an analytical approach would be better.

“Scenario.” He said.

The notebook was out before Shouta even finished. He’d done this with Midoriya regularly, giving him a situation and having him work out what needed to be done. This one would be a bit different.

“You’re a hero. You’ve injured your left shoulder, pulled it out of its socket the day before but had it reset.” No twitch or anything. It was something else. 

“You’re hurt but not bad enough that you think you’re fine to patrol. So you go. Everything is fine for a while but then a building starts to collapse and you’re the nearest hero. You work quickly to grab as many civilians as you can before the whole thing goes. You’re on the fifth floor when your left arm twinges and you drop the civilian you’re holding. You cannot pick them back up and you’re forced to choose between continuing to try and rescue them, risking the lives of the other civilians and injuring your arm further or leaving them to die.”

Judging by the wide eyes, silent tears, and white knuckles on his pen, that might’ve been too far. 

Shouta sighed and scrubbed his face. Fuck. Where’s Hizashi when you need him. He dropped into a squat so he was looking up at Midoriya.

“Look kid. Don’t worry about that future. You’re still training and you aren’t even in UA yet. But to get there, you have to be healthy and training on an injury will only lead to further injury. Would you rather spend a day or two doing minimal physical training or have to wait a month because you didn’t tell me you had burned your shoulder,” a flinch, “and you didn’t get it treated and an infection took root.”

The tears had stopped though his cheeks were still wet. He was fiddling with his shirt and watching Shouta intently. 

He was a smart kid. He knew logically, Midoriya would understand what he was saying. It would become a matter of whether or not he trusted Shouta to tell him.

Shouta knew how hard that kind of trust would be for him. What it was like to have a steady authority figure in your life after every adult had failed you. The hollow kind of hope that you didn’t dare feed but felt it growing in spite of all your reservations. 

“The only reason I will refuse to continue training you is if you continue to lie to me. Got it?”

It was tentative, but the kid nodded.

“Good. Now let’s practice your analytical skills.” 

They ended up on the swings, watching those who walked by and Midoriya rambling about anyone Shouta picked out. He’d ask leading questions and gently nit pick the kids answers to get him to think more critically about things.

The park was shaded by tall buildings, keeping the heat from being too stifling beyond what the humidity was already doing. A small breeze ruffled his hair occasionally and the mutter of the kid was entertaining, especially when his dry wit slipped through.

It was nice.

They sat, gently swaying on the swings for close to an hour before Shouta felt like they should wrap things up. 

Before he could say anything to Midoriya, he heard a tiny meow.

“Shh!”

“Ah! Sor-sorry! I r-ramble, I know it’s creepy-”

“No. You’re rambling is fine. I thought I heard a cat.”

Together they sat still, waiting. 

There! Another meow off near the corner of the park. Unspoken, they both stood and started creeping towards the low bushes. The kid instinctively dropped behind and copied Shouta’s movements just like they did on mock patrols.

Before they could peak under the branches, a meow sounded from the alley. Damn the cat’s moving fast. How did I not see it?

He rounded the corner at a jog, eyes locked on the ground looking for any sign of the cat only to draw up short at a giant red X that looked to be freshly painted on the concrete. Wait a second-

A small ‘ting!’ and his vision was obscured in a glittering cascade of pink.

Familiar laughter erupted from above. He seethed in silence as he felt every single speck of glitter settle in his hair, his capture scarf, and down his neck. 

Mollifying himself by picturing a horrific death for the both of them, he managed to shake his head enough to clear his eyes and mouth and took a shallow breath in. He looked up.

Hizashi and Shirogane were lounging on the rusting fire escape a few floors up, still giggling and looking utterly pleased with themselves, a tin bucket each dangling from their fingers and a can of paint at their feet.

Any happiness he’d have felt at their make up was overshadowed by the fiery annoyance he was feeling. How dare they use his love of cats against him?! And in front of Midoriya too. He had a reputation for fucks sake.

“Oh my gosh, hi Shooooo! And Midoriya too! We totally didn’t see you there.”

“Indeed. Quite the surprise. Though, it looks like you’ve got something in your hair Eraserhead.”

Braying laughter rang out and there were even a few nervous giggles from behind him where Midoriya was obviously confused about where his loyalty should lie.

Shouta would have to remind him.

He was on the fire escape in the blink of an eye, the startled yelps of the two idiots very satisfying to hear. They scrambled at his attack, Hizashi flinging his bucket at him, which he batted away, and Shirogane taking the stairs two at a time.

Shouta skipped the stairs and swung out and up with his capture scarf, leaving a trail of glitter floating behind him and beating them to the roof. He stood at the edge and crossed his arms, glaring down at them as they shrieked with laughter and turned tail to head down. 

He let them get a head start. Let them think they’d got away before he dropped. He timed it perfectly. Hizashi and Shirogane would drop back onto the pavement the same second he did and he’d have them.

He had timed it perfectly. But someone decided to be an idiot and throw a wrench in Shouta’s perfect plan.

In a rush of movement, Shirogane launched himself from the first story platform of the fire escape. Right underneath Shouta who was at the mercy of gravity and too taken aback to react. 

His feet skimmed Shirogane’s back as he tucked and rolled into the drop, hitting the ground at a dead sprint back towards the park. Shouta landed the same time Hizashi did who immediately ran in the opposite direction of Shirogane, heading further into the alley.

Shouta would be impressed with their coordination if he wasn’t so irritated.

Unfortunately for them, he was in his hero outfit. 

He barely had to move to snag both of them in his capture scarf, yanking them back and slamming them chest to chest. They spun in a whirlwind of shrieks before Shouta hoisted them over a sturdy looking crossbeam so they dangled about three feet off the ground, upside down. 

“Awwwww man. So close.” Hizashi whined, his hair dangling close to the ground.

“Oh yes, we really had him on the run.” Shirogane said dryly, eye level with Zashi’s neck.

“Oh shush, he took us by surprise.”

“I thought that’s what we were doing?”

“Did. What we did. Past tense. We succeeded.”

“You certainly did.” Shouta growled, watching them slowly spin and trying to decide what to do next. He could feel small clumps of glitter sticking to his sweat and dropping down the back of his jumpsuit. Murder sounded reasonable. 

…maybe he should get a second opinion before he makes himself a widower.

“Midoriya.” He beckoned the kid over and he materialized beside him. “What do you think an appropriate punishment would be for their crime?”

“W-well, it should be of equal weight… I’d say glitter them back but I don’t honestly know where to find this much glitter and it seems… environmentally unethical?”

“It’s not! Shirogane had it lying around!”

“It’s biodegradable glitter. Made from the cellulose of eucalyptus trees.”

“Cellulose of eucalyptus trees! Isn’t that cool?!” Hizashi grinned like a fool.

“That is pretty c-cool, how do they harvest it? What is the process of making it without all the chemicals? What’s used for the dye-”

“Don’t encourage them.”

“R-right.”

He contemplated how mad he was as they slowly spun a few more times around. It was aggravating as hell to be pranked so thoroughly but he was also fighting the resignation that came with a job well done. 

They had gotten him. 

He couldn’t deny them that and he was more mad at himself for falling for it without even an inkling of suspicion. But it still called for retribution, as per the rules. 

Hizashi started to squirm, he never liked being tied up for long, but Shirogane was looking annoyingly comfortable. 

“Come oooon Sho, just pick a punishment and let us down. The blood’s rushing to my head.”

“Should’ve thought of that before you glitter bombed me.” He said, nudging them with his foot to spin them faster.

“Ugh. He’s always such a sore loser.”

“I believe this is more on us for neglecting to establish an escape plan for after the drop.” Shirogane said conversationally, as if he was in the break room at UA and not hanging upside down in a sketchy alley while a pissed off, pink coated underground hero spun him.

“I knew I was forgetting something! Why didn’t you say anything Shirogane?” Hizashi groused. “Man, this is why Shouta is the one who plans things.” He was starting to squirm more, discomfort evident.

Shirogane did the nearest approximation of a shrug that he could. “You’re the expert on pranking Eraserhead, I figured you knew his reaction times and planned accordingly.”

“I get too wrapped up in the moment! I forget about the after.”

“Actions and consequences, remember?”

“Attention span of a medicated squirrel, remember?”

“Actually, if it’s something that interests them, squirrels can concentrate for quite a few minutes. Now fruit flies on the other hand can only manage about four seconds before being distracted.”

“So I’m doing pretty good is what you’re saying.”

“Yes, it could be worse. You could be a fruit fly.”

“Technically, when I jump, everyone sees a fruit fly.”

“Are you going to let them down sir?” Midoriya asked, seemingly more concerned the longer they hung there, especially now that both of them were howling with laughter once again.

As an answer, Shouta stepped forward, grabbed his scarf where it bunched around their chests and hoisted them up, loosening his grip on the length he’d been using as leverage to keep them hanging.

It was clumsy and uncoordinated, but they both ended up on their feet and Shouta unraveled the rest of his scarf, letting it fall back around his neck, glitter cascading with every movement.

Zashi and Shirogane had lines of glitter across their midsections and chests where his scarf had bound them. They brushed as much off as they could while still giggling, both pink in the face from the blood rush. 

Seeing they were no worse for wear, Shouta abruptly turned and walked out of the alley.

“W-wait! Sir, are you not going to punish them?” Midoriya rushed after him, fingers twisting together. Shouta paused and glared over his shoulder at the duo as they sauntered towards them.

“Not today.” He said pointedly.

“Awwww man! I hate ambush retaliation. Every time, he gets me the second I forget.”

“So it’ll be sometime tomorrow? Good to know.”

“Ha ha. Shut up Shirogane.”

“Better start jumping fruit fly.”

“Nah, still a squirrel. I like nuts too much not to be.”

Murder was still definitely on the table. He already wore black all the time, it couldn’t be that bad to be a widower.

“Hello Midoriya, how are you?”

The kid jumped at being addressed. He’d been watching them all with that wide eyed look of confusion and bewilderment that Shouta figured all three of them deserved, if only because they didn’t exactly look like the educational professionals they usually were.  

Hizashi and Shirogane were in casual wear, Zashi in a tank top and short shorts that normally Shouta would be internally drooling over if he wasn’t pissed. Shirogane was wearing… Hizashi’s old clothes? 

It made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure if it was because he could see Shirogane’s elbows and a cheeky hint of his collarbone underneath the loose collar, or if it was because he was in his husband's clothes not long after he’d yelled at them and left them on read for weeks.

All that being said, they made quite the sight and for a kid who idolized at least two of them? Their strange behavior would without a doubt make it into his notebooks, Shouta was sure.

More glitter fell down his back. It was sneaking past his belt towards his ass.

Their deaths will be agonizing. I’ve heard interesting things about acid and rates of disintegration lately.  

“I’m g-good. How-how are you?”

“I am well. Are you enjoying training with Eraserhead?”

“Yes! I’ve been learning so much and I’m already starting to feel stronger!” The kid flexed his thin arms proudly.

“That’s good.”

“How many times has he made you cry, little listener?”

“Uh…”

“Don’t answer that kid.”

“I need to know if Nem owes me money Sho!”

“For fucks sake Zash, don’t bet on my kid!”

Shouta realized the second he spoke he fucked up. Zashi narrowed in on his words like a shark to blood and his grin sharpened. He opened his mouth to say something, no doubt very embarrassing, when Shirogane cut him off.

“Would you be interested in training with another child, Midoriya? It would be helpful to spar with someone your own age.” 

“Oh! I actually um- that is, th-there is someone- I have a friend whowantedmetoaskifhecouldjoin.”

“I didn’t catch that, please say it again?”

The kid took a deep breath and steadied himself. “I have a friend who wanted me to ask if he could join in training?”

“Is that what you’ve been wanting to ask me?” Shouta said, exasperated. For weeks the kid had been hovering in his periphery before and after training, biting at his nails and staring at Shouta with trepidation.

Shouta had let him, figuring he’d concern himself with whatever he had to ask whenever he got the nerve to say it. 

But it rankled to know that after weeks of wavering on whether or not he trusted Shouta, he spilled the beans the second Shirogane asked.

“Y-yes. I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure how to ask you!” 

“It’s fine, kid.” He exhaled, bits of glitter breaking off and blowing away when he did.

“I had someone else in mind, but feel free to bring your friend too.” Shirogane said.

Shouta growled, managing to reach a new level of pissed off as he stared Shirogane down.

“Stop it. You need to stop. You can’t keep butting into my business and agreeing to things on my behalf.”

Shirogane blinked up at him innocently. “You’re saying you can’t teach three kids at once?”

Bitch. 

“Yes. I can. Obviously. But it’s not up to you to decide that for me!”

“Well-” Zashi’s hand on his shoulder stopped Shirogane’s response. They shared a look, Zashi’s slightly scolding and Shirogane’s questioning before dropping into resignation. Shouta’s blood curdled.

Oh. That’s why he was upset about the book.

Shirogane turned back to him, his nose slightly scrunched and fidgeting with his ring. He coughed, clearing his throat.

“Eraserhead. I apologize for what I said. After the press conference. It was unkind and untrue. Going forward I will be more mindful of my words and the effect they have on people.”

Ah shit. Shouta hated apologies. They made his skin crawl. A bunch of words signifying guilt that more often than not was more about them getting caught than for what they did. 

Shirogane’s actions after the fact would do more to convince Shouta than a stilted, awkward apology ever would.

But he meant a lot to Hizashi. And they had obviously found some sort of middle ground. So for their sake, he could bend a little.

“Fine. But you’re now on my shit list for this,” he gestured to himself and more glitter drifted away from him. “So don’t get comfortable.”

Perfect.

Shirogane nodded, unphased by his threat, and the moment stretched as they both stared at each other. 

“Wow. That was just as awkward as I’d hoped it’d be.”

His eyes snapped to the side where Zashi was nearly bent in half in an effort to lean an elbow on the kid's shoulder while the kid tried not to have a heart attack at one of his idols touching him.

If Shouta was going to commit homicide, he’d need less witnesses.

“We’re done for the day, go home kid.”

Midoriya snapped into a salute and he rapidly bowed at them all, moving so fast Shouta felt a breeze from it. 

“O-okay, thank you Eraserhead sir. Nice to see you again, Present Mic! Shirogane!” He gave one last low bow to all of them before scurrying away.

“I should get going as well, thank you for dinner and the lesson Yamada. I will text you later.”

“Awww, don’t want to keep hanging out?”

Brown eyes flicked to Shouta for the barest of seconds before giving Zashi a soft smile.

“No, I must get back. Have a good night.”

Shouta didn’t bother with a goodbye or watching him depart. He turned on his heel and stalked off, leaving Zashi to scramble after him.

“Wait! Wait Sho, god how are you so fast, stop for a second, are you okay?”

Shouta did not stop. He wasn’t mad at Zashi. He wasn’t. But if he didn’t get this glitter washed off he was going to explode on him. 

“Did we go too far? We couldn’t think of anything else and Shirogane mentioned he had-”

“Zashi. Stop. Home first.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Even with the world darkening into dusk, everyone they passed did double takes and laughter followed them like the loudest of shadows.

It did little to help soothe his mood.

For the barest second, Shouta felt vindictive. The current situation was like a fucked up payback for the past couple weeks of having to step on eggshells around Zashi. Now he was the one in a foul mood and Hizashi didn’t know how to fix it. 

He quickly squashed that vindictiveness though. He just needed a shower. 

Hizashi tried to pick up the conversation the second they stepped through the door but Sho cut him off with a wave of his hand and disappeared into the bathroom. It was as much to wash away the sweat and glitter as it was a chance to collect his thoughts.

Even though it was late, there was a steaming cup of black coffee next to a cup of green tea on the coffee table. Zashi was perched on the edge of the couch in front of them, fingers tapping at his thighs and a jumping hum coming from him.

Exhaustion abruptly dragged at Shouta’s shoulders and he slumped on the doorframe to the living room. Instead of vindication this time, all he felt was remorse. 

He’d made him anxious again. 

And just when he was back to himself and no longer snapping at anyone who breathed too loud.

Shouta stumbled over, his husband jumping a little as he dropped to his knees in between Zashi’s legs. He sank his fingers into his beautiful gold hair, cupping the back of his head with one hand and leaving the other on his cheek, brushing a thumb under one of his gorgeous green eyes. 

“I’m not mad at you, love.” He said softly. Zashi closed his eyes at his words, slumping into Shouta’s hands. 

He rose up and pressed a lingering kiss to Zashi’s forehead, relishing in the warmth of his skin and the scent of his shampoo. Zashi’s hands came to grip at his hips, his fingers warm against Shouta’s bare skin as he hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on.

They dropped into a fierce cuddle on the couch, clinging to each other tightly. A perfect fit.

“I was worried I took it too far. I thought I’d done worse pranks to you before but you just got so mad and I got upset thinking I’d forgotten a trigger of yours or something.” Zashi whispered into his neck, breath warm and lips slightly tickling.

“No, no, I’m not mad about the glitter. Well. A little bit. That shit got everywhere Zash. I’ll be finding it in my hair for weeks. And every day that I do only adds to the revenge.” Shouta warned but Zashi only snorted quietly. They were quiet for a moment, their chests rising in tandem with each breath.

“If it wasn’t the glitter, what was it?”

Shouta took a deep breath, drawing forward all his thoughts he’d organized while in the shower.

“I figured out why I was upset about the birthday present from Shirogane.”

Zashi pulled back and sat up a bit so they could be face to face though their legs and arms were still tangled together. He gently nudged him to keep speaking.

“I don’t get jealous of the other men you’re interested in because I know they’ll never truly know you. They get the Present Mic mask or a version of the Yamada mask, but only I get you. The unfiltered, raw, you.”

He knew Zashi didn’t agree with his view of all their different masks they wore but he kept quiet, letting Shouta work out his feelings with the language he understood.

“The gift Shirogane got you was personal. Not the usual gift your paramours get you like vinyls or fancy headphones. It was something geared towards an interest of yours you don’t share with everyone.”

Shouta shifted to look at his knees. Eye contact was difficult on good days for him but when expressing his emotions? One’s he didn’t like? Not likely.

“And then today, he was wearing your clothes. And you planned something together and communicated without speaking.”

He picked at a fraying hem on his shorts. He didn’t like what he was about to say next. But it was the only thing that fit.

“So I am jealous. I think. Not of your attention towards him, but at the thought of him seeing you without your mask. Especially because I don’t think he’s earned the right.” He growled.

Hizashi was uncharacteristically silent. He hadn’t stopped twirling his fingers through Shouta’s chest hair but when he glanced over, Zashi was lost in thought, looking over at the bookshelf where their two favorite books were proudly on display.

“Say something.” He said tiredly.

“Ah sorry, I was thinking about what Nem said. In relation to what you said!” He hastily added at Shouta’s incredulous look.

“Because I want to be his friend and to me that means knowing everything about him, yeah? But he’ll never know all of me. So does that mean he wouldn’t be my friend? It’s a double standard I didn’t even consider. But that’s a tangent for another day. Right now, friend or not, I can say he may get close and he will wear more of my clothes in the future because holy hell that was hot, but he won’t ever know all of me.”

He tucked a strand of Sho’s damp hair behind his ear. “That right is reserved only for you.”

Shouta pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand.

“Besides, I highly doubt Mr. Hero Law would appreciate our little extracurricular so that’s at least five secrets in one he’ll never know about.”

Shouta huffed a laugh. “You never know, maybe he also has a hidden crush on Viking, or worse, Fenrir.”

“I mean, who wouldn’t, but also fuck you.” 

Shouta grinned and kissed his cheek in apology. A soft hum of acquiescence and Zashi dropped his head onto his shoulder and tapped a rhythm on his bare stomach.  

“Do you want me to stop pushing for a friendship with Shirogane?” The question was tentative but Shouta knew he would if he asked. That in of itself settled Shouta more but also confused him.

“Just a friendship?”

“Uhh yeah? What else would I want from him?”

“Seriously?”

Hizashi’s brow furrowed and he pouted his pretty lips up at Shouta. “Yes seriously. That’s been the whole point of this, remember? Ooooh wait, is it because I never got him a pizza slice BFF necklace? Do you need a pizza slice necklace? Is that what this is about?”

“For the love of- No. Forget I said anything you brat. And also no, if you’ve resolved things between the two of you, that’s all that matters. Though I’ll probably need more verbal affirmations from you as it goes.”

“Done.” They sealed the deal with a kiss before settling back into the couch. Zashi trailing his hand through Shouta’s chest hair as he buried his nose into soft blond hair.

“Still on your shit list then?”

Shouta hummed. Now that the air had been cleared, he knew he wasn’t as mad at Shirogane as he’d thought. 

“Of course. He didn’t apologize for the glitter.”

“That’s the Sho I know and love.” Zashi teased. 

“So how did it come about that you two resolved things?”

“Oh my god! Nedzu is such a conniving bastard sometimes, the pest control problem? He was talking about Shirogane. Can you believe it? I barged into the security room, tripped over a bunch of boxes, which fucking hurt by the way, and lo and behold, Shirogane was holed up in there running through the security feeds. He’d been in there for a while and hadn’t been eating? Wait, not the point yet. I got mad at him and he apologized pretty immediately, and way more eloquently than what he gave you. We talked and decided to get dinner and then-”

Shouta listened to Zashi ramble, enjoying the feel of his voice vibrating through his body where they were pressed together and watching his hands flit through the air as he dove into a play by play of his evening with Shirogane and waxing poetic about how horny he got for him in the showers. 

Friendship my ass. Oh well, if his husband was in denial it’d only make it more entertaining for Shouta in the future.

Their drinks had gone cold and the pervasive humidity was making Shouta’s hair frizz and sweat bead along their temples, but Shouta hadn’t been this content in weeks. With Hizashi happy and in his arms, there wasn’t anything more he could ask for.

Chapter Text

The summer was drawing to a close with leisurely swiftness. Minutes stretched interminably and the hours dragged. But then Shouta would blink and the sun would drop below the horizon, plunging the world into humid nights still bustling with life as if no one else noticed its ascent.

All too soon, the beginning of the semester was days away and Shouta had figured now was the time to make use of their last free night and fit in an extracurricular.

“That was fun. We got every single one of them to cry! And the one who offered up his daughter in exchange for his life?? I wish I could’ve killed him for that alone. Like what are we, demons looking for a sacrifice? I think I’d be less offended if he'd offered his son at the very least. What about a guy in leather pants, using a fursona to enact vigilante justice says heterosexual? Like, come on. No wonder they’re losing that lawsuit, they don’t have two brain cells put together.”

Shouta hummed, content to listen to his husband ramble as their legs dangled over the edge of the roof they were on.

It was late, or rather, early in the morning. The hazy sky was incrementally lighter than it was when they had started out hours ago and the city beneath their feet was starting to bustle with tiny dots of early commuters heading to work. 

They had finally met with the men from Zashi’s party and discussed with them their uncouth behavior and provided suggestions for improvement. They’d had a rapt audience each time and the lesson seemed to have stuck. 

Probably helped that the lecture was coming from behind a rabid wolf mask at one in the morning in the dark of their bedroom while they shook with fear in their underwear.

It might’ve been superfluous considering the guilty verdict that would slam down on the men the next day, but with Hizashi feeling better and the summer coming to an end, Shouta figured they deserved a little treat. 

He even hid a picnic basket on his favorite rooftop, complete with battery operated candles, for after. Since it wasn’t a night Hizashi dipped fully into his wolf, there wasn’t a need for a chase after and all Shouta had to deal with was his husband being a tad more handsy than normal. 

A terrible burden to be sure.

The food was long gone at this point, and sitting there, watching the mesmerizing lights of the traffic and tall buildings around them, curled into his warm and sturdy husband as his voice rumbled through him, Shouta couldn’t stop himself from drifting closer and closer to sleep.

The rumble stopped. A slight shift at his side and something soft pressed against his forehead. 

“Am I boring you kitten?” Hizashi teased, his breath lightly ruffling Shouta’s hair.

“Hm-no.” Shouta grunted. Hizashi chuckled.

“When was the last time you slept? More than two hours?” 

Shouta tried to think about it but his mind was still flirting with unconsciousness and wouldn’t cooperate. So he just shrugged.

“The missing kids case still bothering you?”

Ah. That. Even with his brain fog he knew that’s what it was. He sighed and buried himself into his husband. Hizashi hummed in sympathy and drew him closer, peppering his forehead with kisses.

As usual during the summers, Shouta would lurk in the archives of Naomasa’s police station, working to keep up his image as the local cryptid but also to root around in the cold case files. 

It was multi-purpose. Firstly it kept him busy during the hours he’d normally be at UA. He couldn’t stand idleness and since his body was trained to be up at that time anyway, he might as well be useful. 

Secondly, it kept his mind active. So much of his patrolling was a reactive fight to immediate danger. Sure there was undercover work and long periods of stake outs and information gathering before the final burst of a raid. But they were always done in collaboration with other heroes, and analysts did the majority of the mental heavy lifting, connecting the dots and pointing them in the right direction.

With the cold cases, it was just Shouta in the vaults. He’d pick up the dropped threads of an investigation and work to tie them back together. No time constraint, no urgency. Just him, the dust, and the spiders. 

And lastly, it was quite fun to become the newest intern's waking nightmare, no matter what Nao said about hazing and how frowned upon it was.

Most of the cases were cold for a reason. Especially as the time grew between the incident and the facts went stale. Shouta had to reseal more cases than he closed but, for every hundred that he did, there would be one that he was able to resolve. That’s what kept him coming back.

This one though… this one he wasn’t sure he could close but he was also certain he couldn’t reseal it, if only due to a fanciful wish to make sure they didn’t feel alone. 

Two missing kids. 

At first he thought it might be related to the Shie Hassaikai but their interest in kidnapping children under four had started not long after the abrupt leadership change that had happened about six years ago.

These disappearances were from just over ten. 

And as tragic as it is, children vanish often enough that Shouta can’t find it in himself to be surprised when he opens another cold case file to see a picture of a young kid stapled to the top page. All he feels is a deep pang of sadness and a hardened desire to find justice. 

So these two shouldn’t have been that different. 

If it wasn’t for the deaths surrounding them.

The first, Tenko Shimura. His neighbors described him as a shy, kind boy who was fond of heroes. Not the type of boy who would disintegrate his entire family and home in the span of a single night and run off, never to be seen again. 

But that’s what happened. 

The police at the time had treated Shimura like a threat. A deranged killer loose on the prowl. 

He was only five. 

The second, only six months after Shimura, was Hayato Kinoshita. His neighbors did not have as many nice things to say about him as Shimura’s had. They described him as off putting and unpleasant. And altogether too interested in dissecting roadkill to be considered normal.

But just with Shimura, he displayed no tendency towards outright violence until his father’s birthday party where he’d left six people dead, all sliced nearly beyond recognition and vanished.

Two kids, toddlers really, miles apart with no connections, killed their families in a tragic quirk awakening accident, quirks that bore no resemblance to any relative, and then vanished off the face of the earth.

It bothered Shouta. A lot.

He’d been losing sleep over it, obsessing over the minimal details and following any trail no matter how faint until his eyes glazed over and Hizashi peeled him off the coffee table to tuck into bed for a few hours of sleep till he met with Midoriya or went on patrol.

At this point he’d been awake… 57 hours? That sounded right. Not his longest stretch by any means, but still not great.

…he probably shouldn’t be sitting on a ledge hundreds of feet in the air now that he thought about it.

Hizashi seemed to agree as he pulled away from him despite his protests and tugged him to his feet. 

“Come on kitten, let’s get you home.” Hizashi’s mustache tickled his cheek as he kissed him in apology and Shouta pouted but let himself be pulled towards the service door after they collected the blankets, fake candles, and picnic basket. 

He grumbled about it but gratifully leaned against Hizashi as they walked back home. Sleep sounded nice. 

The last bit of summer had gone well outside of the cold case file. 

Midoriya’s training was coming along nicely. He’d never told Shouta how he injured his arm but he’d come the next day proudly showing off his neatly tied bandages. And apparently his friend was in cram school all summer so it was just the two of them for now. 

Which Shouta was fine with. The chances that the friend would be as good as Midoriya were slim to none and he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with a snot nosed brat taking his attention away from who really benefited from it.

But the kid had looked so hopeful and happy when Shouta reluctantly agreed to also train his friend once school started that he couldn’t take it back now.

And, not having to work through another training schedule for another kid meant he was able to focus on another task he’d been neglecting for too long.

Disposing the drugs he and Zashi had unofficially requisitioned from the two bit gang they had taken out. 

Not entirely his fault he put it off. How was he supposed to work through the logistics of disposing of illegal drugs taken by illegal means when his husband was upset?

It was basic priorities.

But now that everyone had forgiven each other and they were metaphorically skipping through fields of daisies holding hands, Shouta could return to the issue at hand.

They were secure for now but the longer he held on to them the higher the risk of exposure. 

Alright, first, nap. Second, check over the missing kids file one more time. Third, work on getting rid of the drugs.  Fourth, go train Midoriya. Fifth, work on lesson plans for the new semester. And sixth, cuddle with his wonderful husband.

Actually, step six needed to be pushed ahead of the first. And fifth might need to be bumped up. The last time he’d handed in late lesson plans, Nedzu had hid all coffee in the school and their home and somehow got all the surrounding coffee and convenience stores AND the precincts to withhold coffee service from him. 

The resulting caffeine withdrawal headache had caused Shouta to black out. He’d come back to late at night in Endeavors hero agency, surrounded by a small mountain of empty K-cups, mouth full of grainy coffee grounds, and another two boxes lined up. 

He’d wiped his presence from the security feed and left with the two boxes, leaving the empty cups and his dignity behind.

Better move step five up then.

So caught up in shuffling around his mental calendar, he didn’t notice his phone buzzing until Hizashi huffed and tugged it out of his pocket. A few swipes and he was reading through whatever had been sent to him. 

Probably from Shirogane. Now that they had all made up, well, Hizashi and him had made up, they’d been texting back and forth like they both didn’t have jobs. Or personal projects or whatever.

And Shouta wasn’t allowed to mute the group chat either. He did once and then found his capture scarf in the wash with the reds. 

Capturing criminals with a pink scarf did not do his reputation any favors. 

So he was subject to all their ridiculous discussions and forced to occasionally participate. Just last week the two of them had spent four HOURS debating whether or not ‘if All Might punched himself and it hurt, would that make him weak or strong?’ 

It only ended because Shouta pitched in with a “he hasn’t even punched endewhore so that means he’s weak” which turned it into another four hour long exchange but this one was about bashing Endeavor which he enjoyed infinitely more. 

What surprised him the most was that after Hizashi bade them both goodnight, Shirogane would keep the conversation going, undeterred by Shouta’s lackluster contributions during the daytime.

It also slightly worried him. He was the resident insomniac, thank you very much. He didn’t care for another encroaching on his territory. 

But as much as Shouta wanted to be annoyed by it, conversation with Shirogane was easy. At least through text. He would ask him questions about his approach to teaching or send a news article and ask him his opinion on it. 

They were all geared towards Shouta’s interests and he found himself answering, not just because his scarf was being threatened, but because he wanted to.

It made the late night patrols less lonely.

Something he hadn’t even thought he felt, every night lurking in the shadows with only the stars as witnesses to whatever dark deeds awaited him. 

But now, with a constant companion idly waiting for his reply, Shouta felt… comforted. He wouldn’t have noticed most likely until one night when Shirogane had said goodnight as well and left Shouta to run his patrol alone.

He found himself checking his phone periodically and the growing pit of unease in his stomach grew with each blank notification listing.

He never told anyone, but the relief that swept through him at Shirogane’s first cat meme the next night after Hizashi had said goodnight, had been palpable. 

Hizashi delighted in reading the backlog the next morning, giving dramatic voices to their texts over breakfast while Shouta rolled his eyes and hid a smile in his scarf.

Figuring that was the kind of text awaiting him, he waited for Hizashi to read it out.

“Sho, Alpha Delta.” Hizashi’s sharp voice and words sent adrenaline flooding his system and he snapped upright.

Alert. Danger.

“Sitrep.”

“Unknown number, they sent you coordinates and said you’re needed there.”

Hizashi handed him his phone and he checked the number. He didn’t know it. The words didn’t make sense either.

---------------

Aizawa, +81 054-XXX-XXXX 

---------------

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: locationcoordinates.png

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: you’re needed here hero

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: bring your husband

---------------

A trap. Obviously. 

They knew he was married. Hostage situation? Did they have one of their friends, torturing them for information? They were the only ones privy to that information and wouldn’t just give it away unless under duress.

He hesitated, glancing up at Hizashi who was worrying his lip. 

They could head over immediately and get the drop on them, the location was close. But maybe the mystery texter knew that and was waiting for them to act without thinking?

He scanned the rooftops and shadows. Nothing moved but just in case, he pulled Zashi into an alley with him. Cut down openings for attack.

---------------

Aizawa: who is this

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: doesn’t matter, go to the location

Aizawa: it does matter when you’re trying to get me to an unknown location

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: are all underground heroes this suspicious? smh

---------------

Shouta stalled. Was that sass? Not really a standard communication MO for kidnappers or killers. He showed Hizashi the phone and he looked as confused as he felt. Something wasn’t right. 

---------------

Aizawa: who are you

Aizawa: Answer me.

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: ooh proper punctuation, am i in trouble hero? 😏

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: i do look good in handcuffs

---------------

What. The fuck. 

---------------

Aizawa: if this is a prank, you will be

Aizawa: if you’re in need of a hero, you’re wasting precious time

Aizawa: your next text better tell me which it is if you want this conversation to continue

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: sorry, sorry

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: shirogane’s in danger

---------------

Beside him, Zashi sucked in a breath. This person was dangerous. They knew too much about them. And Shouta wasn’t about to play into their hands so easily. 

Somewhat certain it wasn’t a hostage situation at the very least, Shouta decided to be risky with his next text.

---------------

Aizawa: who?

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: don’t play dumb, you know who i’m talking about

Aizawa: i’m afraid i dont, goodnight

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: Wait! 

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: he’s short, wears knit sweaters like he’s a yarn model, got your husband a fucking decaying book as a gift (srs wtf), has a stupidly great poker face, and hates fire

---------------

Alright, the mystery texter seemed to know Shirogane well. But they also knew Shouta was married. Who’s to say they hadn’t gotten that information from spying on them?

…but. They said Shirogane needed help. And didn’t text like a standard criminal would when trying to lure two heroes into a trap. Unless they were relying on that?

Spiralling wasn’t going to help. He could spend all morning going over the what if’s and not be a step closer, he needed to make a decision. Hizashi was back to worrying his bottom lip but nodded at Shouta’s unspoken question.

---------------

Aizawa: he hates fire?

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: you didnt know that?

Aizawa: no

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: oh

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: whoops

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: pls ignore that

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: Anyway! i knew you knew who i was talking about

Aizawa: and now i know you do too

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: tricky bastard

Aizawa: what danger is shirogane in?

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: just go and find out

+81 054-XXX-XXXX: and hurry, i dont want him to hurt himself

---------------

The last text sent a jumble of thoughts and images flashing through his mind. 

Shoes on ledges, Shirogane’s reluctance to talk about his family, Shouta’s own pinkish white scars lining his legs, indications of malnourishment, his casual bravery in facing down those who flung slurs as easy as breathing, words he’d no doubt heard every day of his life. 

Everything culminated into one final thought that paralyzed him.

He felt his hand grabbed and placed upon a sturdy chest. An exaggerated breath. He copied it and felt his lungs cry out in relief. Oh. He’d stopped breathing. 

The body in front of him took another breath so Shouta did too. He found beautiful green eyes and heard a murmur of words that he couldn’t make out past the rushing of his blood in his ears. 

Breathe.

Breathe. 

Breathe.

“-it’s going to be okay kitten, my love. Just keep breathing. I’m here, I’ve got you, I’m here. You’re doing so well, just keep breathing. In and out. In and out. Just like that. I’m so proud of you Sho, I’m here-”

“I’m okay.” Shouta whispered, the panic receding enough to comprehend what had happened. He closed his eyes and fell into Hizashi’s arms. His husband squeezed him in a hard hug and hummed low, causing both of their bones to vibrate with its frequency. 

Perfect. 

It settled the last of the panic, bringing him back to the present and reminding him that he was alive. He felt more exhausted if that was possible but he gave Hizashi a good squeeze back and then pried himself out of his arms.

“Come on.”

“Are you sure?” Hizashi eyed him over in concern. He knew he looked awful. Lack of sleep and a panic attack weren’t steps in a normal beauty routine but he couldn’t ignore the possibility that Shirogane might- that he could be, at this very moment about to-

“Yes. Let’s go.”

Hizashi nodded at his resolve and they took off.

It didn’t take them long. The coordinates had been close to their position and brought them to a beach. 

Maybe. It was hard to tell under all the junk and trash that was stacked everywhere, almost hiding the sand from view. It definitely hid the water from view. Though it could be heard, albeit faintly. 

What was easier to hear was a repetitive banging coming from deep inside the piles of garbage. 

Great. What better place to stage an ambush than one with limited sight lines and a dangerous arena to fight in. In the dark.

Nonetheless, without a word and only a slight crinkling of their noses at the smell, they both dove in. 

They followed the banging as best they could through the shadowy piles. They had to double back frequently and clamber over dangerously tilting piles of bikes or office chairs to make any progress. 

Occasionally the sound stopped and Shouta and Hizashi did as well, waiting to hear where it moved to next before stalking forwards.

Finally, after so long that the sky had lightened to a bluish gray rather than the black of night, they were one turn away from the banging sound. There didn’t seem to be any way around it besides a frontal assault, the surrounding stacks too precarious for him to climb and there was no other path to this location. 

He and Hizashi would have to just go for it. Catching his eye and signalling the plan, Zashi nodded and readied himself. Shouta signed and they rushed around the corner.

And halted.

A few yards in front of them, a short figure with tightly braided hair raised a steel pipe and brought it down with a yell on an already severely dented refrigerator. The fridge caved with a screech. 

“Wow.” Hizashi whispered. 

The figure heard them and spun on their heel, the pipe leaving their hand before they even completed the turn. Shouta caught a glimpse of Shirogane’s shocked face before he tugged himself and his husband down to avoid being brained by the pipe. 

It clanged against a stack of file cabinets behind them.

“How the fuck do you keep finding me?!” Bare feet dug into the sand in front of them and they both straightened to find Shirogane scowling at them, his arms crossed tight across his chest.

He was alive. Ferociously so. 

Shouta sagged with relief before snapping back upright. If it wasn’t that he was a threat to himself, something else must be wrong with Shirogane to warrant such a weird text exchange. He looked him over more thoroughly. 

For all that they texted, neither he nor Zashi had seen him since they reconciled. Though it had taken him took longer than he'd have liked to rid himself of the image of him in Zashi's clothes. Assuming that was a one off and even though they were in a literal junkyard, Shouta half expected him to be in another sweater and tweed pants. 

He most definitely was not. 

The long black sleeved shirt and matching leggings clung to his form like a second skin, reminiscent of Shouta’s own outfit he wore during stealth missions or extracurricular recon.

Shouta could empathize with Zashi. Being able to see his silhouette, without a big blocky sweater covering it was a weird mix of unnatural and arousing. Seeing him in just a towel must’ve been a million times worse. 

He wasn’t even wearing his glasses. It left him looking vulnerable. Without the thick lines and glass blocking the view of his face, his expression was out in the open for anyone to read like a picture book.

Shouta shrugged in answer to the question that had hung in the air a smidge too long while he and Zashi had checked the shorter man out.

“Someone gave us your location. Said you needed help.”

“What?” He said sharply. Shouta offered up his phone to him, figuring it was the safest option. Shirogane snatched it out of his hand and flicked through the conversation.

“Those little shits.” He snarled and threw Shouta’s phone back at him as he pushed through them to yank the pipe back up. 

“I don’t need help and I won’t hurt myself. So you can fuck right off.” 

Shouta exchanged a look with Hizashi. By the set of his mouth he knew they weren’t leaving. Not that Shouta wanted to leave either, this was the most emotion he’d ever seen out of Shirogane, like hell he’d let it pass.

“Yeeeah, I don’t think so, my guy. This is the part where you tell us what’s wrong.”

“Nothings wrong!” He slammed the pipe into a desk and it exploded into splinters. Shirogane stood above its remains, breathing heavily, clenching the pipe in a white knuckled grip.

“Right. Yeah, people who are calm and happy definitely destroy garbage in their off time just for fun.”

“Leave.” Shirogane ground out, staring down at the ground.

“Nope.” Zashi popped, poking a hip out and dropping his hands onto them. 

Shirogane growled at them, digging his heels in and not backing down. Shouta felt a deeper interest rouse within him at the sight. Considering the bared snarl Hizashi sent back, he was feeling the same.

“Leave. Now.” Shirogane gritted, his voice like gravel.

“We aren’t leaving until you tell us what’s wrong.” Hizashi said, maintaining a calm tone despite the inner fight he was no doubt having with his wolf.

Shirogane managed to glare at them both. He twisted the pipe in his hand as his chest rose and fell rapidly.

“Please leave.” He tried, the tense line in his jaw muffling his words slightly. 

“Friends don’t leave friends in a crisis.”

It was a standoff.

Shirogane was resolute. Even with his jittery movements he gave the impression of being fixed in spot, unwavering in his desire to make them leave. 

Too bad for him it was Shouta and Zashi he was up aagainst. They were born stubborn.

“Why do you want us to leave?” Shouta asked. Shirogane jerked to look at him at the question. He chewed at his cheek for a moment before answering.

“I don’t- I don’t want to hurt you. Again.” He admitted. 

“Are you mad at us? Remember what I told you? If you just tell us why it’s easier for us to understand and work towards forgiveness.”

“I’m not mad. Not, not at you.” He added at Shouta’s disbelieving grunt. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He said quietly, finally looking down at the pipe he was still twisting. Hizashi stepped further into the small space they had, coming up more on Shirogane’s right side. 

It wasn’t flanking him necessarily, but Shouta knew Hizashi was worried about the other man making a break for it. 

“Like physically? Did you- do you want to spar? I totally get it if you do, nothing works the edge off stress quite like a spar among friends. And puh-leeeease, don’t worry about it for a second, we’re pro heroes hun, you won’t hurt us.”

“I will! I always do! I can’t- you can’t get too close or else-” Shirogane broke himself off, tossing the pipe to the ground to instead fidget with his ring. 

“Or else what?” 

“I’ll kill you.”

Shouta laughed.

It just burst out of him, a full on belly laugh that was most likely a result of the piled on exhaustion and the swooping adrenaline and the absurdity of the situation. He slowly caught his breath and looked up only to nearly keel over again at the look of pure affront on Shirogane.

How could he not? This twig, the bookish lawyer who wore soft sweaters and always ate his lunch vegetables first, thought he had a chance in hell at killing two pro heroes in their prime?

Laughable. 

Shouta straightened back into an arrogant lean and smirked down at him.

“Getting cocky just because you broke Ringleader's wrist? He isn’t even half the hero we are.” He crooked a finger at Shirogane. “Bring it, short stack.”

A vein pulsed in Shirogane’s temple. 

“Fine then. Let’s fight.” He spat.

That was all the warning Shouta got before Shirogane rushed him.

Chapter Text

There had only been a few times in Shouta’s life where he had instantaneously realized he had fucked up. 

The first of said instances was when he’d insulted Zashi’s mom not five seconds after meeting him. He’d had a split second to regret his words as he watched him rear back before the next thing he knew was waking up in RG’s suite, woozy from a concussion and sporting a brilliant black eye.

Another moment was immediately after shooting back his ninth tequila shot on a night out with friends. His drunk mind supplied a simple “oh no” before the liquor rushed through him and he proceeded to gush about his boyfriend to anyone who would listen and, after finding him on the dance floor, sloppily proposed to him. Hizashi, very rightly and emphatically, turned him down due to it not being “romantic enough you ass!” He then spent the rest of the night crying into Nem’s shoulder before passing out on the bathroom floor.

He prided himself on having such few moments of instant regret. To him it showed his ability to quickly assess a situation and respond appropriately. And also that he didn’t give a shit about how most people perceived him. 

But as he watched Shirogane rush him faster than he could blink, he realized that this was another moment for the list.

It felt like he’d been hit by a truck. Shirogane rammed into him, no finesse or technique, just simple force and a dropped shoulder. 

Shouta stumbled backwards into the pile of filing cabinets with a clatter. He landed much less gracefully than the pipe had.

Adrenaline roared through his veins, sharpening his tired mind into focus and he sprang into a crouch. They bared their teeth at each other as they circled in the tight space. 

As they prowled, Shouta felt a thrill of excitement race through him, his instincts skittering like lightning under his skin. His entire focus narrowed down to the man before him. Each twitch, every flick of his eye. Taking them in and categorizing them. 

He’d gotten the jump on him once. It wouldn’t happen again.

A small inhale and then Shirogane was running at him. Shouta braced- a blur of movement and Shirogane was tackled to the ground.

Hizashi was on him. They writhed around on the sand and Shouta quickly lost track of whose limbs were whose in the dim gray of the morning. 

Someone got their feet in between the two bodies and kicked the other off. All three of them were once again on their feet. 

A small inhale. Shirogane attacked.

He couldn’t go for both of them at once so he jumped whoever was closest while the other hung slightly back, waiting for their turn to exchange fists. 

It was an odd fight. Even with his mind running at half capacity, Shouta could tell something wasn’t right.

He was used to being outnumbered. It happened regularly on his patrols. And it’d taken only one knife in the back to drive home the lesson- Always keep track of your opponents and minimize openings for surprise attacks.

It was muscle memory for him at this point in his career and coupled with his years of teaching, he’d also gotten adept at spotting when others made mistakes that’d get them killed. 

And Shirogane was fighting with nothing but mistakes.

He had to remind himself that it wasn’t a real fight. He and Hizashi were being used as stress relief, only defending and allowing Shirogane to wear his anger out on them. 

Maybe he knew they were holding back and that’s why he was fighting so sloppily?

Because if Shouta had been attacking for real, he’d have knocked Shirogane out within two seconds. The holes in his defense were worse than his first year students. 

Shouta ducked under a wild swing and restrained himself from jabbing into Shirogane’s solar plexus. It was just right there. A wide open shot. 

Shirogane spun on Hizashi after missing his shot at Shouta and kicked out at him. His balance was off because of it and a single push from Hizashi would send him to the ground. But Zashi refrained and only dodged like Shouta had. 

Shirogane didn’t let up, following hot on Hizashi’s heels. He wasn’t keeping his other opponent in his sightline at all. If Shouta was a criminal, he could shoot him so easily. Or come up from behind and strangle him.

He fought like he didn’t care what happened to him.

And Shouta could easily forgive it and explain it away as simply as that Shirogane hadn’t been trained. He couldn’t fight. He’d said so himself, hadn’t he?

But something was giving Shouta pause. 

Every once in a while, he’d pull out a string of moves that were too coordinated, too well placed to have been an accident. It was hard to catch. Hidden between flamboyant strikes and weak counters. Some moves rang of familiarity to Shouta, while others didn’t. It felt like he was using a variety of different styles all at his own whim.

It was making it very difficult to know what to defend against.

Shirogane kicked sand in Hizashi’s face, jumped onto the hood of a car and lept right back off, using it as a springboard to launch himself into a backflip before body slamming into Hizashi who was still spitting out sand.

They went down again.

Shouta was pretty sure he saw that move in an old show Tensei had forced them to watch during his wrestling phase. 

He stepped into the tussle and wrenched them apart, flinging Shirogane off his husband. He didn’t fly far and was back on him in seconds. 

His fist connected with Shouta’s shoulder. His other headed towards his stomach but he managed to block it, taking the hit on his forearm instead. Both points of contact thrummed with pain.

That was the other odd thing. 

Shirogane hit hard. 

The few solid hits he’d managed to land were going to leave impressive bruises. And with each of them, Shouta felt his certainty at Shirogane’s food insecurity slip away. No one who was at that level of underfed would be able to put that much power behind consecutive punches and kicks. 

It didn’t answer what Hizashi had seen that day in the showers, but it ruled out another possibility.

Shirogane came at him with a succession of wide swings reminiscent of a Russian style of fighting Shouta had seen in a visiting foreign hero. 

His knuckles skimmed Shouta’s temple. Too close. On instinct he kicked out, slamming his boot into Shirogane’s stomach. 

His steel toed boot. 

Made for patrols. Made for knocking down villains. 

Shirogane stumbled a half step back, clutching at his midsection. Hizashi froze to a halt behind him, eyes wide.

“Shit-Shirogane are you ok-”

A hard smack shut him up. He brought his hand up to his stinging cheek and stared down in disbelief. Shirogane’s face was more open and alive than he’d ever seen it, a crazed look in his eyes and lips curled in a sneer.

“Fucking finally. About time you took this fight seriously.”

Crazy, masochistic bastard. Fine, that’s permission if I’ve ever heard it. Hizashi’ll enjoy this.

Shouta cracked his neck and shook his hands out while he saw Hizashi reboot over Shirogane’s head.

Looking back, Shouta couldn’t say who moved first. But it didn’t matter. The light sparring they’d been sticking too before was blown away by the aggressive battle that commenced in its stead.

No longer on the defensive, both he and Zashi scored hit after hit. Shirogane had tightened his defense considerably, which made Shouta realize with a flash of annoyance that he’d been baiting them into hitting him before, but plenty still landed.

None seemed to affect him. He’d shake off their hits like they were kindergarteners swatting at him for attention while raining down concussive hits of his own without end.

He never faltered.

Shouta didn’t understand. 

But he found himself so caught up in it, so ecstatic to witness Shirogane without his mask, that he didn’t care.

He reminded him of Hizashi. The feel of his explosive anger was similar, a brutality to it that wasn’t just a passing mood swing but fed from something deeper.

For Zashi, it was an endless well, sourced deep within him and running molten hot. He burned with it, bucketfuls on hand, ready to be drawn up and used as fuel. And just as easily dropped back into that well, hidden from sight if he needed to cool down.

The more they fought and the more Shouta catalogued this maskless Shirogane, the more he realized it wasn’t so simple with him. It wasn’t just a well. 

It was an ocean. 

Shouta could sense it. The pull of unrelenting tides, deep movements shifting below a choppy surface. An unfathomable depth home to unseen monsters. 

Something so incomprehensible, so vast, it couldn’t even be just rage anymore. It was too old and ancient to be anything… but wrath.

Thankfully, it wasn’t directed at them. That was the only thing keeping Shouta from giving in to the bursts of fear it evoked when he glimpsed it. He kept on fighting, knowing on an instinctual level that Shirogane wouldn’t turn that force of nature onto them.  

Something about that fear felt familiar though. In a lull, as Shirogane’s attention was stolen by Hizashi, Shouta traced the feeling back through his memories. 

It didn’t take long to find. 

It’d been another shitty family vacation, this time to Uchiura Bay. Shouta had spent the whole time hungry, sunburnt, and ignored. Entertaining himself by feeding the gulls crumbs from pilfered bread and obsessively reading all the travel pamphlets from their hotel.

And then, not for the first nor the last time, he’d been left behind. His family had gone for lunch and forgotten him on the beach. 

The ocean was huge before him. It melted into the horizon in a hazy line, making Shouta feel as if the sky itself was one giant wave about to crash down on him, an insignificant speck wiped away in seconds. 

While he was frozen in fear, an image from the history and mythology pamphlet he’d read that morning clawed into his mind. Akkorokamui, the dangerous octopus-like monster, said to reside in the very bay that was lapping at his toes.

And, seven year old Shouta, still susceptible to whims of fancy at that age, was immediately convinced the horrendously huge monster lurked just beneath the placid surface, eagerly waiting for the sky to wash him into the bay where it would tear him to pieces. 

Terror had engulfed him. The thought of such a vast, inescapable threat was too much for his young, fragile state and he’d fainted. 

Over two decades later, Shouta was no longer that fragile child. He’d built his mental defenses and physical strength enough to withstand any threat. 

But in the scattered seconds where he was face to face with Shirogane’s wrath, he reverted back to his seven year old self, small and abandoned, facing the might of the ocean and her monstrous pet. 

Then Hizashi was there, knocking Shirogane away from him and the second would be over in a flash.

Not alone this time.

It helped that his husband wasn’t scared in the least. He was thriving. 

If he wasn't trying to fend off random barrages of attacks, Shouta would be mesmerized by him. There was nothing more beautiful than Hizashi unleashed. He hadn’t dropped fully into his wolf but Shouta could see it lurking. It was in the flash of acid green eyes and the way he licked his lips as he tracked Shirogane’s movements. 

Admittedly, Shouta was having fun too.

He found himself squinting at one point and belatedly realized that the sun had risen. High enough to peer over the towering piles surrounding them and casting shadows that they danced in and out of. 

They were in a different clearing now too, as Shouta looked around. It was bigger but still surrounded by trash. Well, more room was more room. Maybe he and Zashi could spice things up.

He signaled and got a very enthusiastic yes in response. They shifted their stances under the confused gaze of Shirogane and began running through their combo moves. 

As underground and lime light heroes, their worlds had never crossed and realistically never would. It’d have to be a world ending level threat to pull both their roster of heroes together and an even slimmer chance of them working near each other if it did. 

But that didn’t stop them from coming up with a series of attacks just for themselves. Moves that tied together each of their strengths and were interwoven with the other in a way impossible to duplicate. And maybe a bit too flamboyant for actual hero work. Beyond showing off for their pack, they hadn’t had a chance to utilize them in a real fight. 

After the first combination, Shirogane’s confusion was gone. After the second, Shouta caught a toothy grin. During the third, he felt more than saw the concentration with which he analyzed their movements.

He was able to fend off most of their attacks but his defense suffered from his split attention. So entranced by their coordinated attacks, Shirogane didn’t brace himself fast enough to stop a flying kick from Hizashi. He went sprawling back into a pile of what looked like industrial scrap but quickly picked himself up with a short bark of laughter and ran back at them. 

Crazy bastard. Shouta thought with a grin. Hizashi was laughing as well. They came back together in a fierce exchange, but the sun and the laughter had changed the mood. 

Akkorokamui slid back into the depths. The ocean calmed. A smile was tugging at the corners of Shirogane’s mouth as Hizashi’s ringing laughter continued to melt into their surroundings.

Shouta dropped back, Zashi stepping in immediately to cover for him. The imperceptible shift had mentally jolted him back, his instincts sulkily sheathing its claws and retreating. 

They had to have been sparring for more than two hours at this point. If he wasn’t sleep deprived, that number wouldn’t have worried him. As it was…

The power of spite and adrenaline still going strong I guess. I don’t know how I haven’t collapsed.

He swayed slightly. Oh. It’s getting close.  

Nicely enough, there was a desk behind him and he made himself comfortable. Hizashi had no doubt already noted his absence so he wasn’t worried about leaving him hanging.

They’d have to call a draw sooner rather than later. While still better off than Shouta, Zashi hadn’t gotten to sleep last night either and had to be wearing down as well.

As if on cue, Hizashi stepped forward and slipped ever so slightly on the sand. Shirogane jumped on the opening and tackled him, once again sending them both to the ground.

They wrestled, their movements sloppier than before and half hearted. Even so, it was hard to tell who had the upper hand. Hizashi might be more skilled, having trained with Shouta and other professionals for years, but Shirogane could not be stopped. His general lack of technique was made up for his powerhouse strength and simple endurance. 

Like the adage, an immovable object meets unstoppable force. But in this case it was unstoppable force meets unstoppable force. And it ends with them both eating sand. 

A loud thump and Hizashi was on his back, having been flipped off Shirogane who scrambled after him and straddled his stomach, grabbing his wrists and slamming them down into the sand.

After hours of constant movement, the sudden stop was abrupt. Hizashi made no move to buck him off, his wide grin going soft around the edges as he stared up at Shirogane who looked smugly triumphant above him. 

Their breaths were ragged and Shirogane was dropping incrementally lower with each gasp until they were puffing into each other's mouths, noses nearly brushing.

Shouta watched from his perch, inconspicuously shifting his pants a little to be more comfortable. He may not like Shirogane but he couldn’t lie and say the image of his slender form straddling his husband as they both sweat and gasp into each other wasn’t erotic. 

He’d had a feeling this was where things were going to end up even if Hizashi was still in denial, claiming to only want a friendship with the man. They’d have to talk about it later and Shouta was absolutely going to judge the shit out of him for fucking on a beach in a literal garbage dump.

But that was for later. Right now, Shouta wasn’t going to interrupt. 

…though maybe he should. Hizashi certainly enjoyed showing off for him but they didn’t know if Shirogane minded an audience …or literally anything about his sexual preferences. 

Shouta wasn’t sure how to break through the ever increasing intimacy happening before him though. They were trapped in each other's gazes, still unmoving beyond the rise and fall of their chests. Shirogane’s stomach was now pressed against Zashi’s upper stomach and sternum, dropping his back into a delicious arc that highlighted the soft curve of his ass.

“Wha- wait! Stop!”

Shouta snapped away from his assessment of Shirogane’s ass and saw dark red speckled at the corner of Hizashi’s mouth.

“You’re bleeding!”

Shirogane shifted back slightly and released one of Zashi’s wrists to drag a hand over his cheek and neck. It came away shiny with blood.

“Oh.”

Hizashi sat up quickly, wrenching his trapped wrist out of Shirogane’s loose hold and palming his lower back to keep him from falling at the sudden change in position. 

“Let me see.”

Shirogane hesitated but then slowly turned his head, allowing Hizashi access to gently thumb through his hair to find the source of the blood.

“Shit Shirogane, this looks nasty! You might need stitches, why didn’t you say anything?!”

Shirogane shrugged, his face still turned away. Shouta slid down from the desk and crouched near them. It was a jagged cut, about three inches long from a bit behind his ear and down past his hairline. Blood was sluggishly dripping from it. 

How’d it take them so long to notice?

“When did it happen?”

Shirogane shrugged again, brushing off Hizashi’s hand and turning back towards them. 

“It was probably when I went into the pile of construction junk?”

Shouta didn’t bother trying to remember when that had happened, more concerned with the nonchalance with which Shirogane was talking.

“How do you not remember getting a cut that most definitely will need stitches. And a tetanus shot.”

“...high pain tolerance?”

“Why are you asking us?”

Shirogane rolled his eyes. “It’s not that big a deal, really. I’ll get a bandaid when I get home.”

“Absolutely not!” Hizashi yelped. “You need way more than a bandaid!”

Shirogane turned to him in exasperation and Shouta watched in real time as both of them realized their position at the exact same moment. 

Hizashi’s arms were curled around Shirogane’s hips, holding him close while Shirogane’s legs were tight around Hizashi’s hips and tucked in behind his back. 

“Ack!”

“Ah!”

They both, very ungracefully Shouta might add, fell away from each other and scrambled up to stand a few feet apart, awkwardly brushing sand off themselves.

Hm. Maybe Hizashi wasn’t the only one in denial. Unfortunately, Shouta was too tired to tease. For now. 

“Our place is close and we’ve got medical supplies.” He offered tiredly. 

“YES, let’s do that. We’ll get breakfast too and coffee for Sho so he doesn’t murder us. There’s a lovely little cafe near our flat that has the most delicious muffins. Seriously, they are to die for. There has to be a secret ingredient to them because they are sooo fluffy yet soooo dense at the same time and we still can’t figure out how even after watching their security footage and scoping out the place a million times. Today’s Tuesday right? Hell yeAAAH, that means white chocolate raspberry muffins, let’s goooooo.”

Hizashi was already on his phone, typing in a to go order while still chattering away absentmindedly. He didn’t seem to realize he had casually dropped the fact that they stake out their local cafe when they’re bored to try and figure out their culinary secrets but Shirogane didn’t appear to have heard. 

He was shuffling in place, twisting his ring and looking conflicted before startling at a soft buzz and pulling out his phone from somewhere? Whatever it was had him scowling down and furiously typing back before looking back up in resignation.

“...muffins do sound good.”

“Muffins always sound good! But these ones will ruin you for any other muffin I’m telling you.”

They meandered their way out from the maze of garbage, picking up their picnic basket on the way. The fresh air of the city was a welcome relief. 

Luckily the early commuters were long gone and the rest of the world was still waking up so they didn’t encounter too many people as they headed back towards home. The few that they did cross gave them a width birth.

Shouta didn’t blame them. All three of them were sweaty, covered in sand, and smelled like garbage. Hizashi still had smudges of blood on his lips and chin from Shirogane and Shouta knew his jaw was starting to bruise from a lucky punch.

And Shirogane was still bleeding from his head wound.

Shouta kept an eye on him as they walked, waiting for the inevitable wooziness that crept in after significant blood loss or the drop of adrenaline after a fight. But he never did so much as sway. If it wasn’t for the shiny patch of blood on his neck that wasn’t obscured by his hair, Shouta wouldn’t have ever known he was injured.

Having one person in his life being good at hiding injuries was bad enough, but now there were two of them to keep track of? 

Just because he came from a fucked up homelife doesn’t mean he knew how to help others with the same problem!

They arrived outside the cafe and it took a small debate on who should go in and get the food before they decided on Shouta since he was the only one without blood on him.

Even so, the owners eyed him in concern and he pretended not to notice them adding an extra muffin to the bag while he paid and tipped generously.

They made it back to their flat and Shouta beelined to the carton with the coffee while the other two deposited the food bags onto the table and debated whether Shirogane’s injuries should be dressed first or if he should shower first.

“Oh my god, mother hen! Just let me shower! If you bandage me first you’re just going to have to bandage them again after they get wet!”

Shirogane brushed past Hizashi’s protests, heading towards their bathroom and only stopping to grab a towel from the hallway closet before shutting the door behind him with a snap. 

“How’d he know where the towels were?” Hizashi said faintly, staring at the bathroom door.

Shouta shrugged, too tired at the moment to care about Shirogane's confidence in their floor plan though he did pencil in time to consider it later. Currently, he was too busy pouring half the scalding contents of his cup down his throat.

“There’s clean clothes in the hamper!” Hizashi called out and a muffled shout of “Thank you!” could be heard over the splash of water.

The warmth of the coffee seeped through Shouta and he closed his eyes and sank back against the counter, listening to his husband rustle through the take out bags while humming softly. 

The melody faltered.

“Sho… I’m worried-”

“Me too.”

“He didn’t notice…?”

“I know.”

“And with his reluctance to share…”

“I know.”

Shuffling footsteps and a presence at his front forced Shouta to blearily crack his eyes. Hizashi’s beautiful face came into view, his brows creased and the corner of his right eye twitching slightly.

His cup thunked against the counter as he set it down and tugged Zashi forward by the hips until they were flush. Leaning against the counter made him the right height to tuck his head into his neck and start pressing soft kisses along the column of his throat.

“You really didn’t find anything on his family?” Hizashi whispered into his hair.

“I barely found anything on him, let alone any relations.” He murmured. “Birth certificate, law degree, records of employment with UA. He’s got less of a paper trail than I do.”

“Reminds me of those guys you tracked down and arrested last year. The ones who had fake identities?”

“I highly doubt Mr. Hero Law forged an identity Zashi.”

“If he knows the law so well he’d know how to bend the rules. Or maybe he knows it so well because he breaks it?”

Shouta considered it for a moment before brushing it off. “Someone hiding from something wouldn’t go on live TV and nearly invoke a riot.”

“Hmmmm I guess.”

They swayed gently, each lost in their own thoughts. Shouta was halfway to sleep, his nose on Zashi’s pulse point and held tight in his arms, when a throat softly cleared. 

Shouta didn’t move but he felt Zashi pick his head up from where it’d been buried in his shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Shirogane said, his voice barely loud enough to be heard. “But I figured one of you would like to shower next.”

Hizashi hummed in affirmation, the sound rumbling through Shouta’s skull and chest like an overly large cat’s purr. He felt the palm on his lower back shift and a finger tap in question. He grunted and shook his head. Zashi gave a breathy laugh.

“One of us has to shower kitten, we took half the beach home with us.”

Shouta grunted again and buried his head deeper into the junction of Hizashi’s shoulder and neck. The hand that had been petting his head fisted in his hair and he was pried out of his comfortable position. He growled and was lightly bitten on the nose for it.

“Don’t pout kitten, I’ll be back before you know it. Here.” His hot coffee was pressed back into his hands which almost made up for the chill that rushed in as Hizashi stepped away from him. 

“Here, hold this against the cut. I’ll be out in a jiffy and then I’ll dress your wound. Don’t mind Sho, he goes nonverbal when he’s tired but he’s harmless under all the grunts.” 

Shouta grunted in offense.

A bright laugh and then a door shut and he could hear water turn on. He was content to lean where he’d been, inhaling the bitter scent of coffee in between sips. 

Another presence came close on his left, this one taking up less space than his husband had. There was a rustle, the sound of lid popping, light steps and the barest squeak of wood against vinyl.

Shouta looked up from the hypnotic swirl of steam coming from his mug to see Shirogane across from him, leaning against the dining table, sipping from his opened cup and holding a towel to the side of his head. There were already spots of blood seeping through.

Shirogane looked wholly unconcerned as he sipped his coffee with a look of bliss Shouta could fully relate to. They drank in a comfortable silence, the sound of the shower and Zashi’s low singing a pleasant background noise. 

“Thank you for the coffee Eraserhead.”

He gave a half-hearted attempt at the sign for you’re welcome.

“You’re really out of it, aren’t you? Who knew I’d ever get to see the fearsome Eraserhead so vulnerable.”

Shouta’s nose crinkled. He didn’t like that.

“You don’t like being called vulnerable? I probably could have guessed that.” Shirogane mused.

That’s not what he didn’t like- wait. Had he said that out loud? Damn, that kid’s muttering habits were rubbing off on him.

“Not that. Eraserhead.”

“That is your name, yes.”

“No. Eraserhead.” He pressed. 

“Repeating the same thing doesn’t help.”

“You call me Eraserhead.”

“It’s your name? As we established two seconds ago.”

“My hero name.”

“Again, yes. Are you feeling okay? Do I need to get Yamada?”

Shouta abruptly pointed at Shirogane with his hand. The one holding the coffee cup. So now there was coffee on the floor but he ignored it in favor of squinting at the man across from him.

“That. You call Zashi, Yamada. But call me Eraserhead. Why?”

“Oh. We aren’t- I mean, I didn’t think we were close enough to warrant me using your family name?”

Shouta frowned. It definitely wasn’t a pout. 

“Did you… did you want me to call you Aizawa?” Shirogane asked, looking baffled. 

Shouta listened to him say and rolled it over in his cotton stuffed mind. He nodded briskly.

“Oh… okay then.” Shirogane said faintly. 

Happy to have cleared that up, Shouta sank back against the counter and took a long sip of his coffee. Shirogane followed suit before his eyes dropped to the puddle of coffee on the floor. 

Shouta watched as he looked around for something and didn’t seem to find it. He pulled the towel away from his head and eyed it for a moment before shrugging and dropping it onto the floor and mopping up the coffee with his foot and the blood soaked towel. 

It seemed like the most logical solution so Shouta didn’t rebuke him for it but he couldn’t even if he wanted to. His eyes had been caught by a drop of glistening blood that slinked its way past Shirogane’s ear and was slowly slipping down his throat. It reached the end and pooled in the crevasse of his collarbone.  

Shouta’s mouth went inexplicably dry. He gulped down the rest of his coffee without taking his eyes off the maroon trail standing bright against Shirogane’s darker skin. 

With a clatter, he dropped his empty coffee cup on the counter behind him and moved in front of Shirogane. He startled him, he could tell by the audible intake of breath but he wasn’t shoved away. And by now, Shouta knew he could if he wanted too. 

Telegraphing his moves, even semi incoherent with exhaustion he knew better than to try and touch Shirogane without his permission. But he wasn’t stopped, either verbally or physically. 

He gently thumbed at his neck, breaking the line of blood. 

“How did you not notice?” He whispered. 

Shirogane did not answer but Shouta watched the pulse in his neck beat faster.

“How did we not notice?” He asked of himself, remorse tinging his words. Shirogane shifted until he was in his line of sight, brown eyes filling his vision.

“Not your fault. I’m good at hiding.” 

Shouta felt the sentence had been cut short, that there should have been more to it given the conversation but he found it a suitable answer. Shirogane was good at hiding. He used his sweaters and glasses and politeness as a shield, as a mask. 

And now, after seeing his true depth, Shouta realized just how ironclad of a mask it was.

Yet here he was, standing in their kitchen, bleeding and drinking coffee. Wearing old clothes of theirs and looking up at him with such an earnest expression it made Shouta’s teeth hurt.

Holding his gaze, Shouta slowly drew his hand away from Shirogane’s neck and up to his mouth where he slowly licked the blood off his thumb. This close he heard Shirogane’s subtle intake of breath. Saw his irises dilate. 

He hummed at the taste of metal melting into the bitter coffee aftertaste and stepped back. Shirogane sagged as he did before righting himself immediately and clearing his throat. He hid behind his coffee cup as Shouta scooped up the towel and dropped it into the sink. 

They resumed their places against their respective counters. And not a moment too soon.

“Aaaaalright! Your turn Sho!” 

He grunted and trudged past his husband and into the heavenly arms of a blistering hot shower. He didn’t know what god he offended to have small clinging bits of debris stuck in his ass crack twice this summer but he definitely owed them an apology.

Chapter Text

Hizashi had never cum so fast in his life. And that was with being married to walking sex appeal. 

He watched the evidence slip down the drain, feeling like the moment deserved more fanfare but settled for slumping against the cool tile with a bone deep sigh. 

As satisfying as the quick hand job had been, it was a far cry from what he’d thought was going to happen. From what he’d used to fuel his imagination as his hand jerked over his soap slicked dick.

He could still feel the ghost of Shirogane’s heavy body pressed against him, firm thighs locked around his hips and a bruising grip on his wrists. When he closed his eyes, he could see his triumphant grin above him, more radiant than the rising sun, and dipping ever closer with each breath. Breathes that mingled in the scant inch between their lips before the taste of iron had burst across his tongue. 

Shit, he was getting hard again. 

Maybe he needed to rethink this ‘just friends with Shirogane’ thing.

He yanked the dial to cold and braced against it, stifling his yelp and turning it into a song as he started scrubbing hard at all the sand and dirt he’d accumulated rolling around in a junkyard. No time to jerk off again. Leaving Sho and Shirogane alone was a recipe for disaster, especially now that they knew he could hold his own in a physical altercation. 

And wasn’t that… something. His confusion at the time had been summarily overruled by the vicious glee he felt when Shirogane had slapped Sho and invited them to not hold back.

It returned now that he had a moment to think with his real brain and not the one in his pants. The last time he saw Shirogane his bones had been making a bid for freedom from their flesh prison. How could he toss him and Sho around like they were cotton stuffed dolls? And the strength of those hits?

Hizash hadn’t had the chance to spar with All Might yet but he imagined it would feel something like that. The bruises along his sides and forearms were already a brilliant purple and growing by the minute. 

It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t logical, to quote his husband. 

But he was unlikely to get answers, given Shirogane’s track record with questions.

So like it or not, he had to come to terms with it. Or at least, hold off on questioning Shirogane about it until the man was more comfortable divulging his secrets. It seemed like it’d be one of those ones that made him clam up and run, right up there with questions about his family.

Hm. Well, Hizashi wasn’t known for his patience but he could hold his tongue if absolutely necessary. And he could be persuaded to wait longer if it meant he got to spar with Shirogane again.

Gods above, but it had been such a fight. And all quirkless too he realized. He hadn’t even thought of using his voice, too hyper focused on the feel of Shirogane’s body as it pushed and pulled against his own.

That, and he’d been distracted trying to keep his wolf from overcoming his senses. It’d been a passenger the whole fight, nipping at his consciousness, wanting to take over and really test out their new pack member. To see how far they could push him, to rip at that irritating apathetic exterior he wore and expose the writhing, beating heart underneath.

It was frothing at the mouth when Shirogane perched on top of them, wanting nothing more than to slam him on his back and take him, right there in the sand, surrounded by trash but gilded with the morning sun and under the watchful eye of his husband. 

Undeterred by the cold water, his dick twitched again. For the love of- what are you, a teenager?! Get your shit together Hizashi Yamada. You’re going to finish up here, then go out and patch up Shirogane, eat breakfast, and then finally talk about what’s got him so upset he took it out on a bunch of junk and then fought two pro heroes to a draw with nothing but his fists alone… 

This was going to be a long day.

Hearing no immediate sounds of a potential ruckus, he took his time drying off and fishing around the hamper for a cozy outfit, finally settling on a simple pair of gray sweatpants and a plain black crop top. It might’ve been an old shirt of Sho’s he’d taken a pair of scissors too years ago but had long since turned into a soft, light top to wear at home, usually during Lazy Sundays™. 

And if it happened to show off his hard earned abs? Who was he to complain.

With a final twirl of his mustache, he took a fortifying breath, or three, and threw the door open.

“Aaaaalright! Your turn Sho!”

Oh ho ho? Soooomething happened while I was shoooowering!

Shouta was unphased by whatever it was, brushing by Hizashi with only a poor attempt at a butt grab before disappearing into the bathroom.

But his empty coffee cup was slowly rolling from where it’d been knocked over on the counter and Shirogane was nibbling his bottom lip and had that far off look in his eye that meant he was thinking hard about something. 

“Did Sho grunt out something insulting again?” Hizashi teased as he plucked the first aid kit from the hall closet. Shirogane blinked and didn’t answer until he sat down where Hizashi ushered him.

“Hm. No, not insulting.” 

“So he did grunt something at the very least. Dooooo tell. Sharing is caring ya know.” He winked. Brown eyes rolled and watched as he set out all the supplies and started sanitizing them. 

“He wants me to call him Aizawa.”

Hizashi’s hands stilled. 

“He asked you to?”

“More or less. You kind of undersold how out of it he gets when he’s tired.”

“He gets embarrassingly honest, it’s the only thing keeping him from staying awake for a week straight. He hates how he gets when he’s exhausted.”

He started sanitizing again, being more thorough than strictly necessary but needing a moment to process the convoluted flash of emotions he’d had at those words. 

The quick zap in his gut had definitely been jealousy but it’d been easily swept away by a full body rush of… excitement? OH, yeah that was anticipation tingling in his fingers and the butterflies of hopefulness in his gut. 

For all his adamant denial about being friends with Shirogane, it appeared that some brand of affection had hooked itself into Sho without him knowing. He’d only ever begrudgingly allowed people the use of his family name, most often his students, after they’d proven their strength by surviving his hell course. 

And of course their pack had very quickly devolved into nicknames without a discussion about it.

In Hizashi’s memory, Sho had never ever asked someone to call him by a more personal name.

That knowledge was wreaking havoc on the mental control Hizashi had found in the shower. He took a fortifying breath and stopped aggressively polishing the needle to pick up a pair of tweezers and swiveled on his seat towards Shirogane, stopping at the sight of the worry etched across his face.

“He’s not… he’s not going to be mad that I saw him like that, is he?” Shirogane asked, his voice small.

Hizashi had once again forgotten that Shirogane didn’t really know them all that well yet. 

“Oh no hun, no. He might be a bit mad at himself, but he knows how he gets when he’s tired and whatever he says he owns up to pretty quickly after the fact. He’ll be more worried he made you uncomfortable by saying something he shouldn’t have.”

He looked unconvinced. Hizashi didn’t blame him. His husband proudly collected grudges like they were mint condition hero figurines.

“I’ll bet you anything that the first words out of his mouth when he’s done showering are an apology.”

Shirogane contemplated that, tapping his ring against the edge of the table.

“Would you bet on the last white chocolate raspberry muffin?”

Hizashi laughed. “You’re playing dirty, but I am so very certain that yes, I’ll bet on that.”

“Alright. It’s a deal.”

They shook on it with solemnity. Shirogane’s hand was small and cool in his.

“I am sooooo going to savor the shit out of that last muffin!” Hizashi said cheekily. “Now, turn your head so I can get out any debris from that cut.”

Shirogane obliged, shifting his wet braid over the opposite shoulder and adjusting to sit sideways in the chair so Hizashi had better access.

It was then that he noticed the lack of towel and the slow dribble of blood down his soft neck. A seductive trail with a sizable smudge taken out of it, approximately the same size as someone’s thumb.

Oh hooo, seems like I missed a lot. Shame, would’ve loved to see Shirogane’s reaction to that. He didn’t bring it up so he probably isn’t mad about it but still.

Following his lead of silence, Hizashi made no mention of it and set about diligently cleaning and disinfecting the divot in the side of his head. Shirogane didn’t flinch at any of the accidental small tugs or pats. 

It was as Hizashi threaded the needle and leaned in that the weight of the trust Shirogane was showing slammed into him. It left him reeling.

In the course of plucking out tiny bits of metal and dabbing antiseptic, Hizashi had gotten well within Shirogane’s personal space. He was bracketing him with his legs, Shirogane’s bony knees pressing against his inner thigh on one side and the warmth of his back on the other. And now he was hovering over him with a sharp needle and thread, about to stab him a dozen times over and all Shirogane did was shift ever so slightly to get more comfortable, leaning against the back of the chair, his eyes half closed as if he was about to drop off to sleep. 

Willing the slight tremble in his fingers to stop, Hizashi slowly reached in and started stitching as gently as he could. Belatedly he realized there was no numbing agent. He and Sho never stocked it, having long gotten over the sting of stitches after patching each other up one too many times. But it didn’t seem to bother Shirogane. Once again he was statuesque, unmoving beneath Hizashi’s fingers.

If it weren’t for the steady rise and fall of his chest, Hizashi wouldn’t have been sure he was alive.

A quiet snip of the scissors and he was done. He placed everything back on the table without looking, transfixed by the closeness of Shirogane’s skin and the faint scent of rosemary and mint rising from it, Hizashi’s own body wash. 

He trailed up the curve of his neck and over his ear. There was a freckle there, just on the inside curl of the helix. 

His brown hair was dark, still damp from the shower but Hizashi could make out a few strands of white hidden amongst them. His wanderings brought him to Shirogane’s face where earthen eyes watched him closely. 

Hizashi’s breath caught and he lost all track of reason, cocooned in the warmth of his gaze. 

“All done?” Shirogane murmured, a sound Hizashi barely caught. He gave a minute nod and he was drawn to Shirogane’s mouth, the corner of it, as it twitched up in a tiny smirk. There was a freckle there too.

“Kiss to make it feel better?” 

The room spun in Hizashi’s periphery. He was locked into the delicate curl of Shirogane’s mouth and the softness of his lips. Another centimeter and he could taste him.

The bathroom door slammed open and Hizashi startled back, gasping in a breath. The room righted itself as he was unceremoniously dumped out of the cozy space he’d been in. He glared at Shouta. 

His husband stared back, unperturbed and shirtless. 

“Don’t let me interrupt.” 

“Oh sure, just pop back into the bathroom for an hour or so, wouldn’t you?” Hizashi snarked. “It’s not like there’s breakfast getting cold.” 

He shrugged and beelined for the coffee maker. Even a venti wasn’t enough for him apparently.

“Only an hour? How disappointing Yamada, I expected better stamina from a hero.” Shirogane quipped, still tucked up against the back of the chair and looking terribly cozy in an overly large UA Alumni shirt and bright pink sweatpants. 

“You’d be lucky to get an hour out of me after beating me half to death all morning. I’m more bruise than man right now. At what point does it count as internal bleeding because there is a lot of blood not in their veins right now and it’s kind of freaking me out. We should’ve gone to the hospital. Actually, why the hell didn’t we go to the hospital?! That was stupid, we should definitely go later, we all need tetanus shots after even looking at that garbage dump, let alone rolling around in it. Wait, seriously, at what point are bruises internal bleeding and when do I need to be worried. It doesn’t feel like it’s leaking into my organs but how can I tell!”

He was rambling, he knew he was. But sue him, it’d been a long ass day. Long ass two days! He never got to sleep last night! And then he was tussling with the fucking half pint All Might for way too long, jerked off to it, and then had said subject of the jerking off flirt with him! He was allowed a little ramble, as a treat.

But Shirogane wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily. 

“I was a doctor in another life, if you’re so worried about it, why don’t you take off your clothes and I can give you an exam?” 

Unbidden, the image of Shirogane in a skimpy nurses outfit flashed through his mind and he almost choked on his spit.

What was happening. How could he maintain a not-horny mental attitude in these conditions??

He glared and jabbed a finger at Shirogane who was trying and failing to look innocent. “No. Stop it. You took one too many hits to the head this morning I think.”

He roughly gathered the supplies and packed them back into the box, keeping his eyes down and away from Shirogane.

Shouta took a long, noisy sip from his coffee mug.

“Choke and die?” Hizashi suggested airily as he stuffed the box back into the closet. 

“Kinky.”

“A threat, actually.”

“What’s the matter, you can dish it out, but can’t take it Yamada?” Shirogane teased. 

“Oh, he can take it just fine.” Shouta smirked into his coffee as Shirogane choked on a laugh.

“Oh ha ha.” Damn, that was a good one. He was having a hard time between being mad and being amused. “Hardly my fault I don’t expect to be flirted with at eight in the goddamn morning!”

“When do flirting hours start for you then? Just for future reference.”

“Noon to 3 am. Closed on bank holidays and Wednesdays.”

“Why Wednesdays?”

“Wednesdays are for therapy. Can’t go in flustered and feeling good about myself, defeats the purpose, ya know?”

“Can’t say I do, I’ll have to take your word for it.” 

“You don’t do therapy? But you seem so well adjusted.” Shouta said dryly. 

Shirogane maturely ignored him in favor of helping Hizashi set the table. They settled in, Shirogane still at the head of the table and Hizashi and Sho in their normal spots on either side of him. They passed the bag of muffins and treats around.

The conversation lulled as they fell upon the baked goods. Shirogane once again ate like a man starved, barely chewing as he devoured everything on his plate. 

Hizashi watched him as he steadily worked through his own plateful.

Something was off with Shirogane.

It might’ve been the flirting. Or the lack of a sweater. Or the sparring. Or the fact that he looked far too comfortable in their house, eating breakfast and wearing their spare clothes. 

Which, on their own, was strange enough. But it was more than that.

Those were all just symptoms. The root cause was that the carefully maintained poise he’d built around himself, had cracked. It was just a hairline fracture, barely noticeable, but Hizashi knew it was there. 

This was their chance. Before Shirogane could notice and patch up the fissure, they could prod at it. Squeeze their way in and force it wider. His mouth watered. He pretended it was because of the food.

“Ah ah, sorry Aizawa, the last muffin is mine by right of betting law.”

“Excuse me?”

Shouta’s hand was hovering over the last muffin as he stared down Shirogane who shrugged.

“Yamada and I made a bet and he lost. The last muffin was the prize.”

“Zashi?” Shouta turned to him, hand still poised midair.

Hizashi winced. “He’s right, I did lose the bet. So thanks for that.”

“How is it my fault?” 

“Because you’re a prickly bitch who hates apologizing.”

“What was I supposed to apologize for now?” He asked tiredly.

“That’s between you two.”

Shouta raised an eyebrow in question at Shirogane who was watching him carefully.

“Yamada said the first words out of you after showering would be an apology for making me uncomfortable. And they weren’t.”

“Oh. I didn’t think I’d made you uncomfortable.” He shifted in his chair. “...did I?”

Shirogane paused before answering, as if double checking his own feelings before shaking his head.

“No.”

Shouta’s shoulders dropped in relief. “Split the muffin then. Since Zashi made a bet in bad faith.”

“Deal.”

The world was really out to get him today, wasn’t it? He watched in fond exasperation as they deliberated over where to cut it and then as they chewed with pointed slowness.

“You’re both children, you know that?”

They didn’t bother responding, the crumbs of the last muffin all the reply that was needed.

An awkwardness started to set in as they all finished eating. Shirogane was tapping his ring against the table as he picked at the crumbs on his plate, trying to draw out the breakfast. Hizashi had a feeling he knew an interrogation awaited him and was reluctant to begin. 

But Hizashi wasn’t quite sure where to begin either. Now that the moment had arrived, he was floundering in the flood of questions he had. He had to pick one! If they waited any longer, the crack would be patched! 

The squeak of a chair broke Hizashi out of his inner turmoil and he watched in silence as Shouta got up and shuffled to the coffee maker, topped off his mug and then sank against the counter.

“Alright. You have an hour. That’s all you get out of me before I collapse. Make it count.” 

He could have been talking to either of them but Shirogane exhaled slowly and dropped his hands into his lap. He looked as if he was on a witness stand.

“What do you want to know?” He was reserved, dropping back into his typical composure and Hizashi felt a hollow ache spread through his chest at the sight. 

“No! Wait, no. Sorry, yes, we have questions, obviously, who wouldn’t after what happened this morning but can we get more comfortable? All bruises, remember? I need a couch otherwise I’m going to be useless in this conversation.”

Shirogane tipped forward for a split second before righting himself, as if Hizashi’s response had unmoored him. But he tilted his head in a yes and after clearing off the table and topping off coffee’s all around, they filed into the living room.

It was spacious and bright, the morning light spilling through the large porch doors, illuminating all the colorful pillows and throw blankets Hizashi had accumulated throughout his life. 

There were two loveseats and two armchairs, all overstuffed and comfortable, surrounding a coffee table. They’d needed all the seats they could get with the size of their pack and the many dinners and game nights they hosted. 

Shouta dropped into the blue armchair, his favorite, and at that sound Brick screamed out from their bedroom and dove for his lap. Sho groaned at the weight but allowed it and the orange cat furiously started kneading his leg.

Ah, the menaces had finally awoken. 

At a much more sedate pace, the other two meandered out. Drainpipe yawned wide and stretched before sauntering over to Shirogane who had chosen the armchair opposite Shouta. The graying black cat sniffed at his ankles and gladly accepted head pats before moving to a puddle of sun and plopping right back down into a nap.

Hizashi draped himself across the green loveseat between the two of them, his head at Shouta’s end so he could look at Shirogane. He was too long for it but he dangled his legs off the armrest and fluffed up a pillow behind his back. As he got comfortable, Dumpster slunk by, giving a petulant meow.

“Shush, you have food.” 

“What are their names?” Shirogane asked as he wiggled his fingers at Dumpster who was staring at him balefully.

“This is Brick.” Shouta gestured to his lap where their dumb, lovable, ginger cat was still slaving away at his biscuits while purring up a storm.

“Drainpipe’s the sunbather, and the mean one’s Dumpster.” Hizashi gestured, barely avoiding a swipe of the calico’s claws as he did. 

“Interesting choice of names.”

“I’ll give you two guesses who named them.” Hizashi not so subtly jabbed a thumb towards Sho.

“Whoever brings them home gets to name them. That’s the rule.” He muttered by rote. It was a recurring argument. Hizashi would never profess to be a great namer of pets himself but he’d like to think he’d do better than just naming them after where he’d found them.

“And it’s a dumb rule. You’re the only one who finds strays on patrol!”

“Skill issue.”

Hizashi scowled over his shoulder at his husband who was sinking further and further into the armchair. He’d drop off to sleep any second if they didn’t get this interroga- friendly questioning rolling.

Shirogane made himself comfortable on his chair as well, his feet tucked under him and a cushion in his lap. Thin fingers quickly tangled themselves in the cushions tassels.

Hizashi relaxed at the sight. It was harder to maintain aloofness when comfortable.

“I’ll start!” He offered with a smile he hoped was reassuring. Shirogane nodded at him to go on.  “Alright, mind telling us why you were destroying helpless, innocent junk at the ass crack of dawn?”

“Ah, you’ve fallen for the pro-junk propaganda I see. Trust me, they were hardly innocent and deserved what they got.”

“Oh really? And what were their crimes?”

“Littering.”

Shouta snorted into his coffee mug. Hizashi rolled his eyes. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected it to be that easy but he couldn’t help but play along just a bit.

“Oh ha ha. So you’re a garbage exclusive vigilante?”

“Someone has to step up.” He said grandly.

“Sure. What’s the real reason?”

The tassels twirled over and over. “Short answer is that I have anger issues and Nedzu won’t buy more pillows for his office.”

Hizashi started eyeing the manhandling of his cushion a bit more warily.

“That was you?” Shouta asked.

“Regrettably. I was… upset about my quirk status being outed and Principal Nedzu and I got into a tiny argument about how best to handle it. My anger got the better of me and his cushions and plant felt the brunt of it.” 

“He has a new plant.” Shouta pointed out.

Shirogane shook his head. “I bought him that. Would be a waste of money to destroy it.”

“He doesn’t usually like succulents, let alone cacti.”

“Maybe, but I found it fitting for him.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a prick.”

“You really don’t like Nedzu, do you?” Hizashi asked, perplexed.

“No, I do not.”

Hizashi could feel Shouta stiffen behind him. Typical interactions with their dad tended to leave people petrified or at the very least uncomfortable. They’d gotten used to those kinds of responses. To hear someone show such blatant dislike was unusual. It felt weird. 

“Why? Does it have to do with the long answer?”

“In part. But it’s mainly due to unrelated, personal reasons.” Shirogane brushed it off. 

“Then why are you working for him? If you don’t like him?”

“That,” Shirogane pointed at him. “Is part of the long answer.”

Dumpster jumped onto the back of the empty couch across from Hizashi and sat imperiously above them. The light in the room dimmed momentarily as a cloud pushed in front of the sun.

“Well?” Shouta grouched. Shirogane jumped and the pillow slid down to his knees. He caught it and tugged it back, clutching it as if it were his shield. 

“I am sorry. I am… unused to sharing the details of my research projects. Please be patient.”

“Fifty minutes left.”

“Are you sure you can tell us?” Hizashi asked worriedly. “I thought you wanted your research to remain unbiased.”

“Thank you for your concern but that does not matter now. I have my conclusions but no evidence to back them up. All my work has been for nothing.” He went back to tugging on the tassels, his eyes fixed on a years old dent in the coffee table. Hizashi was getting concerned for his cushion.

“Evidence? Has a crime been committed?” Shouta asked, sounding more alert. 

“Obviously.” Hizashi spoke, drawing Shirogane’s attention. He looked a little surprised. “Nedzu’s powerpoint is very thorough. If someone “doesn’t meet the standards required of UA” then they’ve broken some sort of law. And ya know what. I’m just gunna say it. Of course Ringleader broke the law, I’m just mad I didn’t catch him doing it. There’s this spot right above his jawline on the right side that has been beeeegging me to punch it for years.”

“Shirogane never said it was Ringle-”

“It is.” Shirogane cut Sho off, looking at Hizashi with something like approval.

“HA!” Hizashi reached behind him without looking and flailed around, trying to smack Shouta. 

“Alright- ow! Alright!” His hand hit something but was promptly snagged in a tight grip. “Alright. Enough showboating. Shirogane. Explain.” After a tiny squeeze, Hizashi’s hand was released.

Shirogane nodded and shifted in his seat. Then shifted again. Then sighed. Finally, he rallied, squaring his shoulders and stared straight at them, his face hard.

“I didn’t just choose to work for UA one day. Principal Nedzu and I have been acquainted for some time and before the start of the year he asked for a favor. He had suspicions of wrongdoing by one of his teachers and asked me to investigate undercover as a teacher. As standard for him, he neglected to tell me who I was supposed to investigate but it didn’t take long to narrow it down.”

“Ringleader.” Hizashi said again, just to rub it in. Shirogane nodded.

“The more I researched, the more data I found to support my hypothesis. And yet, there remains a critical lack of substantial evidence that would make the charges against him hold up in court.”

In court? Shit, this was more serious than he’d thought.

“What hypothesis.” Shouta said in exasperation. Shirogane turned to look at him coolly.

“For years, Ringleader has been blackmailing students turned pro heroes for financial and political gain.”

Brick’s purring motored in the silence that followed. 

The words took a moment to settle but when they did Hizashi bolted upright and by the sound of Brick’s yeowl, Shouta had dislodged him as he did the same.

“WHAT?!” Hizashi screeched, Shouta’s quick quirk usage the only thing keeping him from blasting through their walls. “He did what?! I thought it was something dumb! Like stealing from the vending machines! Or using his work email to subscribe to porn sites! Or-or-or-”

A heavy hand landed on his knee and he turned to see Shouta glaring at Shirogane, red bleeding into his eyes.

“Explain. Now.” Shouta growled. Whether by the intimidation of Sho’s quirk or because he’d already broken the dam, Shirogane dove right in.

“Nearly every year, right before graduation, he chooses a student, typically isolated from their peers but with enough power to assure their status as a future ranking hero, and asks them to stay after class. I don’t know what he says, there are no cameras in classrooms, but when the student’s come out after, they are obviously shaken, sometimes crying. Then in the following years, Ringleader is their plus one to galas, or being given generous gifts of money, vacation packages, expensive items, anything he asks them for.” 

There’s a distant roaring in Hizashi’s ears as he listens. It makes horrible sense. But he can’t give in blindly. He tries to think through it rationally. Be like Shouta. Logic. 

First, he has a bias against Ringleader that will be clouding his judgement. 

Second, they’ve worked beside Ringleader for years and have never seen anything more egregious than his shit personality in all that time. They’ve worked with Shirogane for only a few months. Who should they really trust?

More information. He needs more information.

But deep down, he knows he already believes him.

And isn’t that just the worst thing? Because that means neither he nor Shouta noticed. How many students, how many of their kids had been hurt? Manipulated? 

How many young teens had been shackled to this parasitic villain? Unable to live the way they want, always beholden to the whims of a middle aged, pathetic man who couldn’t cut it as a hero himself and latched onto a young hero’s coattails for any slim chance at influence?

Hizashi seethed, his insides boiling with barely suppressed rage. His wolf clamored up his spine, begging to be released. To rip his throat out and chew on his spine.  

“You say you have no evidence. So how can we believe you?” Shouta’s voice is rough and it brings Hizashi back from the edge.

Shirogane unfolds himself from his chair and gestures for them to wait, disappearing into the bathroom. Hizashi whips to Shouta and finds his eyes. Even as dark as they are, Hizashi can see the whirlwind of emotions in them. 

He isn’t the only one feeling devastated. If what Shirogane said was true, how could they call themselves heroes?

Shirogane reappeared, holding a flash drive that must’ve been in a pocket of his clothes he’d left in there.

“All my research is here. Look through it yourself and decide.” He placed it on the coffee table and Hizashi stared at it like was a bomb. Shouta scooped it up and ducked into their office, returning with his laptop.

“How-what… how did Nedzu, how did none of us not notice? We’re all pro heroes for fucksake!”

“Because Ringleader is an idiot. 

“W-what?” Hizashi spluttered.

“He is. That is the problem.” Shirogane slumped back into the armchair, a deep weariness in every line of his body. “Please do not feel guilty for this.” He pleaded. “I was actively looking into him and even then, it took me months to figure it all out. And then a few more months to gather all of that.” He gestured towards Shouta and his laptop. “There’s no way any of you could have known, not without knowing what to look for.”

“How did you figure it out?”

“It all clicked the day my quirk status was leaked to the press.”

“Are you saying that was him?! I fucking knew it!” His anger returned in a heartbeat, sending him flying to his feet and he circled the cluster of sofas and armchairs like a shark on the hunt. “I’ll kill him! I will. I’ll vibrate his legs apart so he can’t run and then snap the rest of his bones until he’s begging for death. Then I’ll leave him like that. Broken and suffering. Or maybe I’ll just slice his throat and be done with it. I’ll decide on the way.” 

His path to the door was blocked by Shirogane, his hands up in a surrender and his face lined with resignation.

“Don’t. He’s not worth it Yamada.”

Fuck that. Hizashi snatched Shirogane’s hands from the air and yanked him forward so he fell into his chest. His pretty eyes went wide with surprise as he stared up at him.

“It’s not about his worth, Shirogane. You could say the bugs Shouta kills for me in our house don’t deserve death but it’s what happens when they cross the boundary of our home. They die because I deserve to live in a home without bugs. Just as you, and every student he’s terrorized, deserve to live in a world without him.” Hizashi hissed, voice laced with venom.

Shirogane’s breath hitched at his words, his mouth dropping open and the hands he’d caught gripping him tightly. Hizashi held him there, making sure he saw the full depth of his conviction. 

“You did all this in a few months?” Shouta’s voice broke them apart. Shirogane took a large step back and started twisting his ring as Hizashi turned to look over Shouta’s shoulder.

There were too many folders. Hizashi’s gut dropped, his anger with it. The letters swam before his eyes as he recognized name after name. The most recent folder was for Hitoka Minami. Hero name Neutronus.

She was going to graduate this year. 

“How can there be no evidence?” Hizashi croaked. “You have all of this?”

Shirogane’s hands flew up and almost took out his eye. He traced Hizashi’s path, stalking the edges of the couch circle in agitation.

“It’s all conjecture. For all my digging I never found hard evidence of blackmail. I’ve hacked every device he uses, scoured every property he owns, tailed him for hours and I haven’t found a single scrap of anything he could use against the students or any sort of list with their names or anything! And none of the student’s I identified as his victims will talk to me. I can tell they're afraid but they don’t trust that I can protect them or that he doesn’t have anything on them.”

His stomping startled Drainpipe who jerked awake with a confused meow. Shirogane dropped with a coo and an apology, scratching behind her ears to make up for it.

“You make it sound like he just makes it up as he goes!”

“I know it sounds crazy.” Shirogane said, intent on Drainpipe and not meeting their eyes. “But he is. He’s that much of an idiot. Just smart enough to realize with the right lie and a vulnerable kid, he can net himself years of free meals and exposure to influential people. But stupid and lazy enough and-and-and too self-important to do little else, such as fabricate documents or at the very least keep track of his lies. Like a good blackmailer would.”

“Did he lie about your quirklessness then?” Shouta asked sharply. It made Shirogane and Hizashi both snap to him. 

Oh. That would make a lot of sense actually. 

It would explain his skeletal body that hit like a truck. Maybe he had an accumulation quirk that turned food into physical strength? Then it’d make sense he’d look starved if he hadn’t eaten for a few days but recuperated quickly after a good meal. 

But why lie about it? Why embrace the label of quirkless when he could have easily disproved it and avoided all the hate and vitriol?

Shirogane stood slowly and brushed imaginary dust off his knees before finally meeting their eyes.

“In a way, he did. You see, if he had done his due diligence as a proper blackmailer, he would have actually found my quirk registration. I knew he had not as I have programs in place to alert me if anyone viewed my registration and none of them were triggered. By code or by quirk. And,” Shirogane hesitated, eyeing them over before continuing. “And if he had, he would have seen that I do have a quirk registered to my name.”

“Sooooo you aren’t quirkless?” Hizashi asked, confused.

“I am."

Oooookay then. He sideyed his husband to gauge his feelings in all this but found him… smirking?

“You break a lot of laws for being a lawyer, Shirogane.” Shouta drawled. 

Shirogane eyed him with a carefully guarded look. “And?”

“Nothing.” Shouta shrugged, turning back to his laptop. “Carry on.”

“...right.”

The room darkened again. Shouta continued to click around the folders and Hizashi watched absently as Shirogane stuck a hand out for Dumpster to sniff. 

Lying on a quirk registry was a crime. Something Shirogane would know as a lawyer. And something he would know that they knew as pro heroes. But he told them. 

Obviously they wouldn’t arrest him for it, and not just because they’re friends. Hizashi wouldn’t arrest any quirkless person who was just doing what they could to survive. But he couldn’t know that, right? What made this secret different from his other ones that he was willing to trust them with it? The one secret that could get him arrested?

The room lightened. The glow of the sun caught on the tips of Dumpster's fur as Shirogane scratched behind her ears. 

Interesting. Dumpster usually doesn’t take to strangers that fast.

Well, far be it from him to doubt his mean furbaby’s judgement. If she trusted him, Hizashi could do the same for now. Besides, they had other, more pressing matters to discuss. 

“What do we do about Ringleader?” He asked, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. Shirogane shrugged and kept his attention on the princess before him.

“Nothing. There’s nothing to be done. That’s the conclusion I came to last night which led to my… temper tantrum at the beach.”

“There’s never nothing, I’m sure we can think of something!”

“My plan now is to keep a closer eye on him. The Commission is obviously not involved in this since it’s such shoddy work so I don’t have to worry about retaliation from them if I poke deeper. And I believe his next target is Minami so I can tip her off beforehand and ask that she record him or inform me of their conversation before the graduation ceremony.”

“But that’s ages away! And there’s too many variables. What if he chooses a different student? Or no student? Then you wasted all that time for nothing. Will you wait another year, risk more student’s just on the off chance you choose right and get that student to agree to tell you what he said? What if the lie he tells is too good and they refuse to tell you just like all the others? Then everyone he’s blackmailed already has to survive for another year!”

“I know Yamada!” Shirogane shouted, startling Dumpster who jumped off the couch with a disgruntled meow. He slumped. “I know. But this is the only thing I can do.”

“Legally.” Shouta piped up. Shirogane looked at him strangely.

“What?”

“It’s the only legal thing you can do.”

“What are you implying Aizawa?”

“I’m not implying. I’m stating a fact.”

“...I won’t do anything illegal.”

“Why start now?”

“Excuse me?”

“Faking a quirk registration, setting up codes in a government system, breaking and entering, hacking personal devices. And that’s only what you’ve told us about. How many more laws have you broken, Mr. Hero Law?”

Shirogane shifted from one foot to the other. “This isn’t about me right now.”

“It is when you stumble at the finish line. What was the purpose of all this research if your moral high ground kicks in at the wrong time?”

Shirogane turned to the porch windows, suddenly very interested in the skyline.

“You’re going to let more children suffer because you can’t finish the fucking job?” Shouta pressed. Hizashi dropped a hand on his tense shoulder, giving it a squeeze in encouragement. The fracture was widening. Just one more push.

“And you called me a coward running away from a fight. You’re doing the exact same thing. What, afraid Ringleader would kick your ass?” Shouta needled. 

Shirogane spun, his face contorted in rage. “I would rip the limbs off his body without breaking a sweat.” A cloud blocked the sun, throwing the room into shadow. Drainpipe woke with a hiss and scampered into their bedroom, Brick at her heels. Dumpster sat on the coffee table beside Shouta’s laptop and watched with them as Shirogane seethed.

“He is nothing to me. I’d snuff his life out in a second for what he’s done. But I can’t.” The anger left as quickly as it’d come and Shirogane dropped onto the armrest of the loveseat as if his legs wouldn’t support him anymore. Thin shoulders caved in. “I can’t. I signed a contract with Nedzu. I could use whatever means necessary to gather information but the final scene ends in an arrest. All above board. That’s how it must play out.”

“Why?”

“A challenge Nedzu said. And I agreed because I won’t kill ag- I won’t kill.”

Hizashi had the strongest feeling that Shirogane had almost said ‘again’. A miniscule shift of Sho’s shoulder under his hand told him he’d caught that too.

“I find it very intriguing that you assumed I meant kill him when I said illegal.” Shouta spoke.

Shirogane gave a harsh laugh. “Right, because that wasn’t what you were implying?”

“I was merely saying there were options.”

“No. There’s not.” 

“So you want us to sit back and do nothing? He gets away with it all?!” Hizashi cried.

“I want you to trust me!” Shirogane winced as he said it, seemingly fully aware of the irony of the statement. He forged on anyway. “I can do this. This is what I was hired for and I will find a way to get him tossed into Tartarus. You have my word.”

“Your word.” Shouta said flatly. 

“We can make a contract with consequences if you prefer. That if I fail you get to shove glitter down my throat.”

“Hm. Tempting.” 

“Fuckin- don’t listen to him Shirogane. We don’t need a contract. It sounds like you’re having enough trouble with your first one as it is.”

Shirogane nodded gratefully as Shouta muttered about a contract never hurting anybody. Hizashi tugged on his hair to shut him up. 

“I have more questions.” Shouta said, shutting the laptop with a snap.

The air tightened as Shirogane tensed. 

“But they can wait. I need to sleep. I’m keeping the flash drive.” 

“Oh, of course.” Shirogane said with relief. “I have a copy, as does Nedzu, so that ones all yours.” 

The conversation tripped to a halt after that. It felt impossible to move forward. It was that awkward moment, ya know? After your colleague exposes another idiot colleague for the crime of blackmail with no evidence and insists you do nothing to help in his arrest.

You know, that one.

Too much had happened all at once for Hizashi to feel anything but muted. The rage and guilt would return, his wolf with it, but for now, all Hizashi wanted to do was pass out. Preferably for twelve hours or more. 

They all needed it. Shirogane might not have the dark circles under his eyes like Shouta, but he could tell the man was just as exhausted. And had fresh stitches. 

“Want to crash here Shirogane? We’ve got a guest bedroom and I swear the bed in there is waaaay squishier than ours so you’d be getting a deluxe experience. I’ll even cook dinner for us later! Don’t worry, Sho will be kept weeell away from the kitchen when I do, I don’t want you murdering him for stirring the noodles the wrong way.”

“There is not a wrong way to stir noodles.” Sho grumbled and Shirogane smiled softly.

“There is, but that’s okay. Thank you for the offer but I must get home. If you were texted, others are worried about me and I need to check in with them.”

“By others you mean your family?” 

“Sho, for fucksake.” Hizashi groaned but Shirogane just chuckled and waved a finger at Sho like he was a naughty kid.

“No more questions for you, Aizawa. Much like Hizashi’s flirt schedule, I have a set schedule for interrogations and we’ve gone way over time. You’re lucky I don’t bill you for overtime.”

“Well then, what are your hours? For future reference.”

“By appointment only. You’ll have to call my receptionist to book a slot.”

“Can I have their number?”

“Now why would I make it that easy for you?” Shirogane winked with a grin and side stepped the pillow Shouta threw at him. He was heading towards the bathroom when he froze.

“Shirogane? You alright?” His eyeline was towards their bookshelf, at the copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray he’d given Hizashi and their well worn copy of My Darling, both of which were reclined in their display stand. 

Hizashi waved a hand in front of Shirogane’s face and he snapped back. 

“Oh. My apologies, I didn’t know you’d read My Darling,.”

“You have? Not many people know about it nowadays but it still has a sizable cult following. It’s Sho’s favorite book!”

Shirogane blinked and looked back at Shouta who shrugged in confirmation.

“Do you like it?” Hizashi asked.

“I found the main character exceedingly unlikeable. Very bitchy and the whole ‘woe is me’ attitude was especially aggravating. But maybe I just don’t like tragedies.”

“It’s a love story, not a tragedy.” Shouta stood and joined them. He took the book down and leafed through it. 

“All love stories are tragedies.” Shirogane whispered, eyes trapped by Shouta’s thick fingers flipping through the pages.

“Maybe. But the two people, Sabine and Elliot, loved each other. And their story is in these pages, living beyond their tragic end. Their love is preservering.”

Damn but could his husband get poetic when he wanted. Hizashi felt his eyes mist at his words and Shirogane seemed likewise affected. He sniffed and turned his head away.

“They were still assholes.”

“You really expect a New Orleans gangster and his lover to survive without being assholes? Sure the author seems set on casting them both as despicable, especially Sabine, but the facts of their lives speak for themselves. Elliot set up women’s shelters in Sabine’s name and she funded hospitals and alcohol recovery programs in his. Their love made each other better.”

Hizashi couldn’t tell what the emotion was that radiated off Shirogane but it was strong. His brow was furrowed and the eyes beneath were swimming, threatening to spill over. He was chewing on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. 

“I-” He croaked. “I have to go.”

And he did. He dashed to the door, threw his shoes on and left, the door softly clicking shut behind him.

“He really has to stop doing that.” Hizashi complained. 

“Was it something I said?” Sho joked lightly.

“How are we supposed to know when he keeps running off like that! At least he didn’t seem mad? So maybe he’ll actually text us this time but who knows with him!”

Brick nudged at his ankles, demanding pets and Hizashi scooped him up.

“Oof! You’re getting fat Brickie, no cat of the female puuurr -suasion is going to want you if you don’t slim down!”

“Don’t fat shame our cat Zash.” Shouta said as he put his book back on the shelf and headed towards their bedroom. Hizashi followed, affecting his standard high pitched voice he used on their ginger idiot of a son.

“Oh Brick baby knows I love him, don’t you, you big fat brick of a cat. Yes you do!” Brick purred and nuzzled into his hand, nipping at his fingers affectionately.

Shouta fell back on the bed and Hizashi lovingly dumped Brick onto his stomach.

“Ack, Zashi!”

Hizashi rounded the bed and dropped dramatically across it so that he was opposite Sho, their heads tucked into each other’s shoulders and their legs dangling off the bed.

“Are we bad hero teachers Sho?”

Shouta sighed, his breath tickling Hizashi’s neck. 

“I don’t think so. I’ll need to go through Shirogane’s data to really say. It could be nothing. Or Shirogane could be right and it wasn’t something we could’ve noticed.”

“But we should have! It’s literally our job to take care of the kids. Doubly so! We’re heroes and teachers!”

Blunt teeth nipped his ear. “Hey. Stop. You’ll drown in the ‘should haves.’ Let me go through the files before declaring us villains for not realizing the most insignificant, annoying person we know had this kind of capability.”

“Fine. But only if you let me say I told you so one more time.”

“If you have to.”

“I fucking TOLD you so!”

“Feel better?”

“No.”

“It’ll be okay, Zash.”

Hizashi sniffled wetly. “I’ll need to check your sources.”

“My sources are ‘I’ and ‘love’ and ‘you’. All peer reviewed by me, your husband.”

“Ugh Sho! I’m too lactose intolerant for your cheesiness!” 

A low chuckle in his ear sent a shiver down his spine. “But you love it.”

“God help me but I do.” He sighed dramatically. 

They stared at the ceiling in silence save for Brick's purring and the scrabble of paws in the kitchen where Dumpster and Drainpipe were no doubt fighting for the right of the food bowl.

“I believe him Sho.” Hizashi whispered.

“I know.”

“He doesn’t want our help but now that we know, I can’t do nothing. I mean, Shirogane might be under contract but we aren’t! Should we make this an extracurricular? Can we?” He started salivating at just the thought. He’d had many daydreams about killing Ringleader before when his only crime was offensive pick up lines and invasion of personal space. But now…

Hizashi shuddered. He wanted that man’s throat under his claws. 

“Hm.”

“We can wait until after you confirm Shirogane’s research! I can wait!”

“It’s not that. I’m thinking about something Shirogane said the first day we met.”

“Oh? I didn’t think you guys had talked that day.”

“We messaged. He spoke about Ringleader but he also said something about Nedzu. How he prefers a spectacle over upholding the law.”

“Okaaaay? That’s not really news Sho.”

“But now we know Nedzu hired him to investigate Ringleader by any means necessary but bound him by contract that restricts his ability to bring him to justice. And think of how Shirogane worded it- ‘final scene’ and ‘play out’.” Even he is thinking about this in a way that involves a performance of sorts.”

“But he can’t do that. He doesn’t have the evidence.”

“I know. But I can’t help feeling like killing Ringleader isn’t the right answer.”

“This isn’t a pop quiz Sho this is real- wait! Wait, wait.” Hizashi jerked upright, struck by the vaguest outlines of a plan. 

“Zashi-”

“Shush!” He waved him silent. He needed silence to see the shape of it. It was nebulous at first but slowly shifted into an outcome that had him grinning with all teeth.

“I got it!” He crowed, spinning on the bed and tackling Sho back, dislodging Brick. He grabbed his head and slammed their lips together, immediately deepening the kiss when Shouta gave a startled gasp. He slipped his tongue in and devoured his husband for a few long minutes.

Finally he drew back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking his lips. Shouta was dazed beneath him, his hair a mess and lips swollen from Hizashi’s nips. 

Hizashi chuckled, a slightly deranged sound even to his own ears. “Who said he has to be arrested for blackmail?”

Sho struggled against the haze of arousal but quickly blinked it away, his focus shifting with his eyes widening in understanding. Hizashi could already see him formulating a plan, taking Hizashi’s vague insinuation and turning it into something actionable.

“It’ll be highly publicized, especially since the Commission will get involved. It’d have to be airtight.”

“Awwww, are you saying you can’t do it?”

Sho flipped their positions in a second, leaving Hizashi gasping, staring up at his husband's dark gaze as he straddled him. His face disappeared into his neck and his words rasped over Hizashi’s skin, making goosebumps rise.

“For you? I can do anything. Into the fire?”

“The flames will know our names.” Hizashi crooned, his voice hitching as calloused hands slid his sweatpants past his hips. 

Sleeping could wait. They had a plan to set in motion.

Chapter Text

To say Hizashi was agitated was putting it lightly. 

Because the thing is, he had a finite amount of patience. He always had.

Even as a child, he’d known he didn’t have much of it, certainly not enough to spend on everyone who pushed his buttons. If he spent too much on the school yard bullies who tried to muzzle him every recess, he wouldn’t have enough to deal with the back hands and sneering disdain from his foster families. 

So he’d gotten good at figuring out how to allocate the limited resource that was his patience. 

Zero for the bullies. The rest for his foster families. 

If he was too difficult for them, he’d be passed around family to family more often than he already was. But beating up bullies only landed him detention and a talking-to from the disinterested counselor. 

And then any left over went towards those who tolerated his existence, like the corner store owner near the school. He didn’t like it when Hizashi spoke and swatted him with his newspaper if he tried. But if Hizashi swept the store for him, he’d toss down a sandwich and a drink.

As he grew, his priorities and allotments shifted. Shouta now held the majority of his patience, with equal shares going to the rest of his pack and students. He still kept none for bullies. For the villains. 

So having to work beside someone he knew unequivocally was a villain? 

Torture.

After looking through Shirogane’s files, Shouta had done his own research, though there was little to look into that Shirogane hadn’t already covered. It all confirmed the hypothesis. All signs pointing towards blackmail but no evidence beyond conjecture. 

That was enough for Hizashi though. 

They’d started putting their plan into action immediately but it was a slower process than he’d like and their grand finale was planned for the “Welcome Back” assembly on the first day of school.

Which meant teacher's week was turning into hell on earth for Hizashi. Made even worse by the fact that he seemed to be the only one who felt it. Shouta and Shirogane had easily continued as normal, acting as if they weren’t breathing the same air as someone so vile.

Every time he saw Ringleader’s stupid face with his stupid twisted mustache in his stupid costume, Hizashi wanted to sink his claws into his stupid gut. He wanted to drag Ringleader out by his ears and shout him into the ground until all that was left was a red smear on the pavement.

But he couldn’t. He was stuck in the teachers room, a few desks down from him and on his seventh pencil as he kept snapping them in his frustration. 

He had to get a grip. At this rate someone was bound to catch on, probably Nemuri, and he was running out of pencils. 

EH 3:34 pm

Zash, you need to calm down

PM 3:35 pm

im TRYING sho

god idk how you do it on recon and stakeout missions

he’s RIGHT THERE

WE KNOW

why cant we just take him out??????

EH 3:37 pm

you know why

PM 3:38 pm

i knoooow

…

but he’s RIGHT THERE

EH 4:00 pm

i’ve reserved gym delta for an hour for you starting now

punch things till you feel better

PM 4:01 pm

i’m too mad rn to be grateful but thx

<3

Sho always knew what would cheer him up. 

Without looking around, fearing he’d snap if he saw that smug fucking sneer on Ringleader, he ducked out of the room and jogged towards the teachers lockers to change out of his wig and hero costume and into leggings and a tank top.

Gym Delta was quiet when he arrived. During the school year it was crawling with kids working on their quirks or strength training but for now, it was all his. 

He synced to the overhead speakers and put on his mind numbing EDM playlist, all bass and ear scratching synth. The punching bags were huddled up in a corner, as if trying to shy away from him, scared to take the brunt of his anger, but he mercilessly pulled one of the freestanding ones to the middle of the floor.

With bass notes booming out above him and the impact of his body against the bag, all he could feel was vibration. It soothed him instantly.

His whole life, he’d been attuned to sound waves, to the feel of wavelengths and the destruction they caused. He lived and breathed in tune, the constant rumble more familiar to him than the feel of Shouta’s embrace.

He didn’t just love the feel of it pulsating through his body as it grounded him. It was so much more than that. People don’t love air. They don’t sing sonnets or profess their devotion for it and yet without it, they wouldn’t be alive. 

Soundwaves were Hizashi’s air. He needed it to live. True death for him, was silence.

So whenever things got too much, when he needed an outlet for his rage that wouldn’t end in blood, Hizashi became a lightning rod for frequency. 

Bass loud enough to buzz through the floors and thump through Hizashi’s chest. Hit after hit on the bag, the impact sending tremors through his legs and arms. A black hole, absorbing every wavelength, letting it pour into him and drown everything out until there was nothing left but sound and fuzzing vibrations.

He lost track of time immediately. Lost track of all thoughts beyond high kick - low kick - right jab - duck - low kick - roundhouse. 

Over and over.

It could’ve been hours. Days even, for all he knew. 

Distantly he became aware that he had an audience. Brief flashes of a figure in his periphery that slowly accumulated into the thought that he was being watched. Must be Shouta, come to tell him his time was done. 

Regretfully he slowed, losing the immersive state he’d been in. With a final ‘thwack’ he fell out of his stance and rocked back on his heels, breathing hard. He paused his music from his watch and shook his hands out.

“I think Midoriya was right, your bone structure must be enhanced for your quirk.”

“Ack! Holy shit Shirogane, you scared the bejeebies right out of me! I thought you were Sho!!” He clutched at his chest, taking a staggering step back.

“My apologies.” Shirogane said as he peeled himself off the wall he’d been sitting against, brushing imaginary dust off his daisy sweater. “What are bejeebies anyway?”

“I’d show you mine but they’ve all scattered to the wind! Gone! Left for a better life where they won’t be startled half to death!” He whined as he mopped up the sweat on his face with the edge of his tank top. Shirogane rolled his eyes at his dramatics but helped him lug the limp punching bag back to its comrades.  

They watched in bemusement as it sagged against another, entirely devoid of its original rigidity.

“What did that poor bag ever do to you?” Shirogane teased. 

“Nothing at all, can you believe it? Just another casualty in my quest to remain sane. Not everyone has access to a beach filled with junk, ya know?” He walked over to the bench with his stuff and sat down to remove his gear and chug some water.

“That is the luxury spot for anger management.” Shirogane mused as he plopped down onto the bench beside him, apparently undisturbed by Hizashi’s sweatiness. “A highly sought out establishment, the waiting list is years long.” 

“Luckily I know a guy, might be able to squeeze me in sooner.” He winked at Shirogane with a grin and started unwinding his hand wraps.

“Maybe with the right incentive I could pencil you in.”

“My, my, accepting bribes? And here I thought you were too honorable to stoop so low.”

“Depends on the bribe. Everyone has a price.”

“What’s yours then?”

“Dinner.”

“Oh ho ho? Shirogane, are you asking me out on a date?” He teased, only half, okay maybe three quarters hoping it was true.

“More of an apology dinner. I can tell this week has been hard on you and it will continue to be… unpleasant until I can find sufficient evidence. So I want to help you feel better if I can and buy you dinner.”

“I don’t think you understand how bribes work.”

“Maybe so, but it’s something I want to do for you. If that is okay? You can bring Eraser- Aizawa.”

“I’d love that. Maybe in a couple weeks or so?”

“Sure.”

They smiled at each other. The memory of the last time they’d sat so close bubbled up, Shirogane sitting lax and trusting as Hizashi lost his mind over a freckle at the corner of his mouth. 

It was still there. So innocuous yet capable of driving him mad. 

Something beeped. Then clicked. It broke him out of his trance, and he looked around in confusion laced with suspicion. That’d almost sounded like the bluetooth disconnecting and the door locking- oh no.  

A boppy drum beat blared above them, echoing in the empty space. Snappy synth beats followed and Hizashi sprang up with a nearly quirked yell and he felt Shirogane do the same beside him.

“No!”

We’re no strangers to love

You know the rules and so do I

“I’m gunna kill you Sho!”

Even though he knew it was pointless, he ran to the doors and yanked on them. They were locked, just as he feared. 

Wild eyed, he looked to Shirogane and saw the same struggle he was going through, a fight between pure fury and resigned acceptance and amusement.

Never gonna give you up, 

Never gonna let you down

Never gonna run around and desert you

“How long is he going to keep us here?” They had to shout to be heard, the volume blasting as Shouta made sure they didn’t miss a single beat of the song.

“Forever. We’re going to die with the sultry tones of Rick the last thing we hear.”

“Well there are worse ways to go.”

“Like?”

“...nothing comes to mind at the moment, but I’m sure there’s worse ways to go.”

Hizashi started laughing. He couldn’t help it. It was just… perfect. The admittance of a well done prank and suffering through it together with Shirogane, the exertion of kickboxing his emotions out, having an apology/date dinner set, all of it. It overflowed and he couldn’t stop. 

It was infectious too. Shirogane tumbled into his insanity not a step behind and they laughed so hard they both ended up on the floor, Hizashi spread eagle on his back and Shirogane on all fours. 

The song faded out. And then boppy drums started up again. Shirogane groaned somewhere to his right.

“I’m not going to endure this.”

He entered Hizashi’s view upside down and standing, his braid dangling between the two of them.

“I’ll use the vents to get outside and unlock the door.”

Hizashi considered this before shaking his head. “Sho’ll have them booby trapped.”

Shirogane sighed and started circling Hizashi’s sprawl on the floor in slow, measured steps.

“Then it’s a question of which is the worse torture. Trapped with Rick with an unknowable end, trusting in the mercy of Aizawa, or sacrificing comfort and dignity to escape through the vents.”

Shirogane stopped above him again and they weighed their odds. It didn’t take long.

“I’ve never had much dignity to begin with.” Hizashi concluded with a huff as he bounced up. 

“Discomfort is momentary, peace is forever.” Shirogane agreed and they headed towards the grate in the ceiling. It was small, definitely too small for Hizashi but maybe just the right size for Shirogane. 

And it didn’t look like it was booby trapped. 

Which meant it definitely was. 

“What do you think he put up there?” Shirogane asked as he tugged off his daisy sweater revealing the pale blue button up and light gray slacks underneath. He folded it neatly and stowed it against the wall, far away from the vent.

“Knowing Sho? Could be anything. Depends on how mad he actually was about the glitter.”

“Great. Remind me why we did that again?”

“Because it was funny as hell.” They grinned at each other. Whenever Hizashi was feeling even the tiniest bit moody, he replayed the look on Shouta’s face seconds before the wave of glitter hit him. The dawning look of understanding falling into pained resignation never failed to cheer him up.

But karma had finally caught up. 

No doubt Sho was plugged into the gym security cameras, chuckling evilly as they suffered. Just for good measure, he threw up a middle finger towards the camera in the corner.

“Alright. Boost me up?”

Hizashi squatted down and Shirogane climbed on from behind, his shins pressing into Hizashi’s shoulders and his inner thighs around his ears as he knelt on him. Desperately ignoring his body’s reaction to that , he stood up with a grunt. Holy hell Shirogane is heavier than he looks. It’s like a toothpick made outta lead.

Wobbling only a little, he positioned them under the vent, body tense and ready to bolt should the trap spring the second the screws were released.

He couldn’t see what Shirogane was doing as he refused to look up and have that image seared into his brain for eternity. Instead, he hyper focused on Shirogane’s thighs …which was not any less torturous. Every shift of movement or tightening of his muscles felt amplified beneath Hizashi’s palms where he held him steady. He had to consciously ease up on his grip a few times after he caught himself squeezing tighter and tighter.

“Screws undone. Going to slowly lower the grate-”

Poof. 

What had to be a metric ton of black glitter cascaded out of the vent. 

They’d both instinctively ducked which knocked them off balance. Hizashi somehow got a foot out and shoved a hand up against Shirogane’s stomach to catch him before he toppled. Small hands gripped his wrist.

They stayed like that, unmoving, as the glitter drifted about lazily before finally settling to the floor. 

Never gonna give you up

Never gonna let you down

Never gonna run around and desert you

Hizashi looked up. Shirogane had his eyes closed and was breathing deeply. He’d taken the brunt of it, his hair coated in a thick layer of sparkling black and there was some trickling down the front of his shirt. His stomach shifted under Hizashi’s hand. 

“You’re going to be a widower by the end of the day Yamada.” He intoned.

Hizashi snorted. “I know of a good beach where we can dump the body.”

That caused Shirogane to huff a laugh and more glitter fell. “Might as well get this over with. Odds of finding more traps?”

“Still unreasonably high I’m afraid.”

“Splendid.”

They readjusted, Hizashi mournfully dropping his hand from Shirogane’s stomach to his knees. He did an overhead press to boost Shirogane up to the vent and he easily slipped inside, knocking more glitter down as he went. 

Hizashi stared after him into the black void above and only startled a little when Shirogane’s head popped out. 

“Aizawa must’ve been feeling merciful, there doesn’t appear to be any more traps. Be back in a jiffy.” He promised and then shook his head.

“Hey hey hey!” Hizashi danced out of the way of the glitter that was headed his way. “Not cool! I thought we were on the same side!”

Shirogane’s head was gone but his laughter echoed back.

And then Hizashi was left alone with no one but Rick for company. The glitter stuck to his sweat like glue and he could feel some being bold and making its way down his back. He glared at the camera.

“I hope you know I’m not cleaning that up.” He jabbed a finger at the pile behind him. Only Rick answered. 

He paced, leaving a trail wherever he went. Damn Shouta got us good.  

After he had a chance to wash it all off, he’d be able to admire it more but for now he was irrationally irritated that his husband knew him so well. That Shouta knew he’d need to release stress but that he wouldn’t book time in the gym for himself so he’d be able to choose which gym to send him to, thus setting a trap beforehand. 

And without a doubt somehow subtly manipulated Shirogane into checking up on him. Two birds, one stone and all that.

A click and the door was opened. Shirogane stood just outside, victorious. He wasn’t even breathing hard or showed any sign of having crawled through the vents at a chance of escape. If it wasn’t for the glitter caked into his hair and skin, he could’ve been out for a stroll.

“Showers?”

“I’ve never heard a more beautiful word. Let’s go.”

Shirogane left his sweater behind to be picked up later, refusing to let even a speck of glitter sully its design. They left a trail as they went and Shirogane kept muttering to himself. “Better be biodegradable otherwise I won’t just kill Aizawa, I’ll put him on trial for environmental pollution-”

“What did you mean about Midoriya being right about my bones?” Hizashi interrupted.

“What? Oh, that. The volume of the music was maxed out and with the bass boosters the support course secretly installed last semester, anyone without your bone structure would’ve vibrated to splinters. Or at the very least, had their heart stop.”

“You seem to be fine.”

“I do appear to be.” He said it as if it was a hint. Like they were playing a game of Clue and he’d decided to drop a vague phrase in the hopes Hizashi would understand. 

He did not. 

But he was starting to suspect that Shirogane had been lying about being quirkless.

“Waaaaaaait, you know who put in the bass boosters in all the gyms? Even Nedzu wasn’t sure who it was.”

He grinned impishly. “Who do you think gave them the keys?”

Hizashi laughed delightedly. He had figured the glitter bombing of Shouta had been a one off but now it seemed Shirogane had a mischievous streak in him that Hizashi couldn’t wait to test out.

They shouldered their way into the teachers locker room, making sure to leave glitter behind on any surface they could but with special attention to Shouta’s locker. And Ringleaders.

He was spared the sight of Shirogane undressing again as they decided to strip in the showers in a belated attempt at reigning in the amount of scattered glitter. 

Hizashi now understood Sho’s pain. That shit got everywhere. But eventually he was clean and was back in the locker room, staring at a wet and frowning Shirogane. Again. For godsake, this cannot keep happening! I’m barely holding it together as is! What god is testing me and what did I do to deserve it?

Somewhere, somehow, Hizashi just knew that god was laughing at his misery.

With the few (many) furtive glances Hizashi managed, he noticed Shirogane looked healthier, almost miraculously so. His chest was all lean muscle and slim lines, dipping into a sinfully graspable waist.

“My clothes are gone again. This is starting to feel purposeful.” Shirogane pouted, closing his locker with a soft snap. 

Hizashi had no doubt. It reeked of meddling hands. But it wasn’t him! This time… He had thought about how to get Shirogane into his clothes more often, in detail, but he hadn’t had time to put any plans into effect. And he honestly hadn’t expected to ever be in this situation again. 

But he wasn’t about to pass up a golden opportunity.

“Step on in to Hizashi’s Wardrobe where we have a wide variety of clothes for your everyday needs. From professional to slutty, we strive to provide the very best for our customers.” Hizashi used his car salesman's announcer voice as he pulled out his duffel and dropped it onto the bench.

Shirogane rifled through it casually, taking longer than last time to decide on an outfit.

Maybe because he could mentally prepare, it wasn’t as bad this time when he turned around after they finished dressing. Instead of a braid, Shirogane was piling his hair up into a bun, the simple yellow long sleeve riding up enough to show a slip of skin and the soft black skirt swishing with the movement. 

Once again, he found himself commiserating silently with his husband. He knew Shouta went feral everytime he wore a skirt but he didn’t fully grasp why until just this moment. Now he understands. How easy it’d be to sneak a hand under, to push it up over his hips as he bent-

“Yamada?”

“I’m not thinking of anything!” He yelped, shoving his duffel back into his locker way too hard.

“...okay?” Shirogane eyed him over with a delicately raised brow before moving on. “I just wanted to apologize again. I know it’s frustrating and that it seems like we’re just letting him get away with it, but I promise you, he won’t. I will follow him for every second of the day if I need to, I will become his shadow, his nightmare. Anything it takes to see him thrown in Tartarus. You have my word.”

His sincerity struck Hizashi and for a second, guilt rolled through him. Shirogane was still committed to the long haul. To doing it the ‘right’ way and trapping Ringleader within his web of lies. 

All the while, he and Sho were working towards a quicker conclusion. In an objectively ‘wrong’ way and not including Shirogane. Leaving him in the dark to suffer the burden of thinking it might take years to catch him.

Hizashi almost told him everything. All the ins and outs of the con he and Sho were going to pull. The words were building in the back of his throat as Shirogane gave his solemn vow. 

But he swallowed them back. Telling Shirogane was the tipping of a domino. One reveal meant hundreds more, a cascading effect that he couldn’t see the end of. Shirogane might have said he’d kill Ringleader in a fit of rage, but that hardly meant he was accepting of other unlawful acts.

He wouldn’t give up Fenrir just to appease his momentary guilt.

“Thanks Shirogane.” He said simply.

The rest of the day was an elaborate game of hide and seek with Hizashi’s husband. Shirogane had even attempted to stalk him through the vents but he only ended up with dust bunnies to show for it and saying something about a tiny apartment within its maze.

Shouta managed to evade them within the school grounds for the rest of the week. They only ever saw him within the teachers room which had been designated a safe zone by Shouta and Hizashi early on in their employment after too many pranks that ended with collateral damage. 

Ectoplasm still hadn’t fully forgiven them for the “Chicken Incident.”

Outside UA’s walls, Hizashi and Shouta dropped the friendly competition to focus wholly on the plan. There were too many people to bribe, camera feeds to overwrite, narratives to spin, and drugs to move, to leave time for little else.

Their sleep schedule was suffering and Hizashi was relying heavily on dusty pre-recorded shows for his work at the station, but at least it distracted him enough not to strangle Ringleader with his bare hands.

The bags under his eyes rivaled Sho’s and he was especially worried when he found himself hallucinating Nemuri sitting at her desk as he trudged through the teachers door at their normal early time Monday morning.

The punch to the shoulder was real though.

“Ouch! What the hell Nem! You’re so mean when you don’t get your beauty rest.” Hizashi whined, rubbing his throbbing arm.

“I had to lose sleep so I could get here early because some people have been dodging my texts!” She snapped, rounding on both of them. 

They shrunk back, Shouta ducking into his scarf as Hizashi waved placating hands in front of her.

“Sorry! Sorry, Nem. Just been busy, ya know?”

“Bullshit!” 

The teacher's door opened and Hizashi whipped towards it, praying for deliverance. Shirogane had stopped halfway in, his foot still hovering over the ground as he eyed Hizashi’s terrified look and Nemuri’s raised pointer finger. Without a word, he slowly backed up.

“Stop! Nope, you too, get in here.” Nem demanded, hands on her hips and exuding enough motherly disappointment to make a whole class cry.

Shirogane visibly steeled himself and stepped in. She herded them to the kitchenette at the back end of the room and shoved them into one of the tables. She did mercifully allow Shouta to start a pot of coffee so maybe she wasn’t that mad. 

“Tell me. What is with you three?”

They all glanced at each other but it seemed Sho and Shirogane were just as confused as Hizashi was.

“Not sure what you mean Nem? You said we were dodging your texts? I didn’t even realize we were but I apologize for it and we’ll do better and if that’s all we can go back to work-”

She was shaking her head before he’d even finished. “It’s not just that! All week you’ve been treating Ringleader like a bomb about to go off. I know we hate him but school hasn’t even started yet so I don’t know what he could’ve done to warrant it.”

Hizashi glanced at Shirogane, it was technically his secret to share, but he was looking between him and Shouta with confusion.

“You didn’t tell her?” He sounded surprised.

“Um no? You didn’t say we could?” Hizashi was also surprised. “Wait, is that why you don’t tell us things? You think we’re gunna distribute it to the whole group?” 

“I mean, I guess? You all seem so close and know so much about each other, I assumed there was an unspoken “no secrets” clause in your family.”

Well. He wasn’t technically wrong, but Hizashi could keep a secret if he really had to! For instance, none of the pack knew that Shouta had happy-cried for almost an hour on their wedding night! Or about the vigilante thing either!

“That’s kind of… sweet? But no, we don’t tell each other everything. Nem certainly doesn’t want to hear about Sho and I’s sexcapades and I can’t tell you what Tensei’s newest book obsession is.”

“Lord of the Rings.” Shouta pitched in distractedly, his attention stolen by the coffee pot that had started to burble.

“Really? He’s already read it, like, a dozen times.” 

“The remastered extended movies are coming to theaters in a couple months, he wants to be refreshed.” Nem said before shaking her head. “But I’m not going to let you distract me. Something’s up with Ringleader. Spill.”

Hizashi scrambled internally. He trusted Nemuri implicitly. If they told her but swore her to secrecy and inaction, she wouldn’t do anything beyond accidently tripping Ringleader more than she already did. 

But was it worth it to bring her into the fold so close to the final curtain? She knew them better than Shirogane did and wouldn’t believe their lies about being willing to wait for evidence. Even without being privy to their extracurriculars, she knew they’d pull some sort of stunt.

And she’d want to be a part of it. 

Which meant she’d harass them endlessly until they told her, which would lead to Shirogane finding out, which would make him mad due to all the secrecy and the lies, which would end with him having to decide whether or not to arrest them for all the laws they were breaking or choose to be an accomplice and risk his career as a teacher and a lawyer.

A hand gripped his knee under the table and squeezed. He caught Shouta’s profile out of the corner of his eye and even though he was still eye-fucking the coffee pot, Hizashi knew he was thinking along the same lines as him. On the other side of the table, Shirogane was carefully blank.

Better to play it safe for now.

He threw his hands up wide with a puff of irritation. “Pah! I thought we were doing so well too! Why do you gotta be so smart Nem? It’s stupid and embarrassing so we didn’t want anyone to notice.” He pouted and Nem pursed her lips and raised a manicured eyebrow in question. 

“Right.” He fidgeted and brought his hands up to sign as he spoke. “Well, you see, we were joking around before school started and made a stupid bet but then these two knuckleheads got serious about it so we couldn’t just drop it.”

Nemuri looked at him like he was dumb. “You’ve made a lot of stupid, gross bets before Zash and never hid them from me, so what’s up with this one?”

He really needed to get a grip on his oversharing tendencies before they really got him into trouble. Shit, she even knows about the bet I made with Sho over who could have breath so bad we wouldn’t want to kiss each other! What can I come up with that’d be more embarrassing than that?!

“It’s how many times Ringleader picks his nose in a month.” Shirogane offered up, looking pained.

“Huh?” Nem’s mouth dropped to the floor as Shirogane closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I can’t remember how the conversation started but that was the end result. We’ve been watching him like a hawk so we don’t miss one since someone gets snitty if there’s a hint of a cheat.” He looked pointedly at Shouta who only flicked his eyes over to Shirogane before returning to his vigil over the coffee.

“Anyway, I was embarrassed due to the immaturity of it and asked them to keep it a secret.”

“Yeah I can see why. That’s got to be one of the dumbest bets yet.” Nem nodded sympathetically. “What were your guesses?”

Asking follow up questions to try and catch them in a lie. Hizashi would admire how good of hero Nem was if he wasn’t the subject of her questioning.

“I said 25, Yamada chose 120, and Aizawa fell somewhat in the middle with 48.”

Not a bad lie. Though Hizashi hadn’t realized Shirogane knew them well enough to know how they’d bet on something dumb like this. Or maybe it was just a really good guess?

“What’s the prize?”

This time Shouta stepped in. “Winner gets to live with the knowledge that they can predict the resident asshole well enough to guess how many times he picks his nose in public.”

“And you all agreed to this?”

Hizashi shrugged helplessly. “It was the heat of the moment. And you know our motto, a bet taken is a bet seen through.”

“Sometimes I wonder why we’re friends.” Nem sighed. “How many are you at now?”

Shirogane dug into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook which he leafed through before landing on a page with a handful of tallies.

“Nine times since last Monday.”

“Gross.”

“Exceedingly.”

The coffee pot spluttered to a stop and Shouta was out of his seat in a second. He poured two cups and handed the second off to Hizashi which he gratefully accepted. The tension had settled enough that Hizashi thought they might’ve gotten away with it. 

The loud speaker beeped to life. “Shirogane, please see me in my office.”

“Oooooooh, somebody’s in troooouble.” Hizashi sang. 

Shirogane rolled his eyes as he got up. “If that one,” he jabbed a thumb at Sho. “Didn’t get in trouble for the mess in Gym Delta, then I think I’m safe.”

Shouta sipped his coffee. “I’m Nedzu’s favorite though.”

“You are not! I am!” Hizashi gasped, clutching at his nonexistent pearl necklace.

“Girls, girls, girls, you’re both pretty. I’m sure Nedzu tolerates you both equally.” Nemuri said lovingly. She waved at Shirogane as he left, the door closing behind him with a soft snick. 

If Hizashi had thought they were safe, he was dead wrong. Nemuri swiveled back towards them with a scowl and the clack of her heels, making Shouta freeze halfway through his sip and startling Hizashi.

“You think I’m fucking stupid?” She whispered furiously. “Shirogane can lie better than I expected and the notebook was a nice touch but I know you both too well to fall for it. I mean seriously, you’re drinking black coffee Zash! What’s going on? And if you lie to me again, I’ll cut your dicks off.”

It wasn’t an idle threat. Hizashi crossed his legs nervously.

“It’s not our secret to tell Nem.” Shouta said.

“But it is something serious. You wouldn’t lie to me otherwise. If it involves the students I deserve to know!” She demanded, her eyes stormy with determination.

Hizashi drummed his fingers on the table and hummed. Nemuri wasn’t going to let this go, especially if she thought the students were in danger. But this wasn’t the place to tell her the whole story. Any minute now another teacher would come in to start the day.

“Look, we can’t tell you, ah ah ah!” He stopped her attempted interruption with a finger. “But we will. Later tonight if everything pans out the way it should.”

Dark red lips frowned under his finger but she seemed to accept it after a moment of consideration and brushed his hand away.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No-”

“Actually…” Hizashi spoke over Shouta, twirling his mustache as he thought. “You still have that contact at Nero News? The one with the ears?”

“Nitori? They’re mouse ears and yeah, she and I get drinks every other week.”

Hizashi leaned over the table and dropped his voice to a whisper.

“Well, if there happened to be an anonymous tip put in about a potential incident during the Welcome Back assembly at UA today… they might get a good story.”

She grinned and leaned back, the picture of casualness. “I was just thinking I should give her a call, she just adopted a dog and I’ve been wanting to see how that’s going.” 

Her phone was already out and ringing by the time she stood and headed towards the hall, sidestepping Thirteen with a nod.

“That was risky.” Shouta murmured into his coffee cup as Hizashi waved a good morning to Thirteen.

“Didn’t see you coming up with any ideas.” 

He humphed but didn’t have a response. More teachers trickled in and Hizashi wandered over to his desk. Plan or not, he did still have to work today.

Shirogane slipped back in amidst Vlad King and Snipe. Hizashi was puzzled to see he was annoyed. Not necessarily that he was pissed, since he’d just come from speaking with Nedzu which always seemed to put him in a mood, but more so that he could tell. 

He didn’t seem all that different from normal besides his lips being ever so slightly thinner and his eyes hard like rocks. But Hizashi could tell he was annoyed. 

Maybe wedging themselves in the fracture of his composure the other day made it easier to read him.

The reason for his annoyance soon became apparent. With a ding, everyone received the normal Welcome Back email with a list of announcements from Nedzu. Near the bottom was the official response to the press conference from last term. 

------------------

Furthermore, after many discussions with the Hero Commission, we were able to come to the agreement that Neyan Shirogane will remain on staff to teach Hero Law for UA. However, his employment is dependent on a few provisions given by the Commission on behalf of the concerned Japanese citizenry.

Firstly, he is required to obtain his hero license by the end of this term.

Secondly, in an effort to facilitate his understanding of how a hero should run their class, he is required once per day, to sit in on one fellow teacher's class for the remainder of the term or until he obtains his license, whichever comes first. 

Thirdly, to ensure all teaching standards are met, he will be evaluated by his peers in a rotating schedule at the discretion of the principal for the remainder of the term. 

All this is subject to re-evaluation at the end of the term where new stipulations or clauses may be added or removed.

I appreciate all your understanding and cooperation.

Plus Ultra!

Principal Nedzu

------------------

What utter horseshit! Those vile, conniving, back-stabbing bastards at the Commission were overreaching by a mile. If these were the stipulations after a week of negotiation with Nedzu , Hizashi shuddered to think of what they originally wanted to put Shirogane through.

“Looking forward to having you in my class Shirogane. I’ll save the best seat for you.” Ringleader leered. He was patting his lap when Hizashi looked over. 

“That is inappropriate Ringleader.” Vlad King scolded. Ringleader put his hands up in mock surrender and went back to his work. 

Just a little longer Hizashi. Just a little longer. His pencil creaked in warning and he loosened his grip just in time. He felt Nem watching him but he refused to look over, certain she’d be able to read his thoughts from his face. 

Instead, he stared mindlessly at his computer, clicking around on nothing and not being productive in the slightest. 

“All teachers report to Gym Alpha for the Welcome Back assembly. All teachers report to Gym Alpha.”

It was time. 

Hizashi was too amped up to participate in whatever Shirogane and Nemuri were talking about at his side. He couldn’t stop fidgeting and hums kept catching in his throat. 

Every concerned glance from Shirogane chipped at his control but Shouta was a silent pillar of support on his other side and Hizashi gratefully drew strength from him, managing to keep from blurting everything out by a single breath. 

The hall was empty when they arrived and they all dutifully climbed the small stage and lined up in alphabetical order like Nedzu preferred. Hizashi was separated from Shirogane by Ringleader and Snipe while Shouta was all the way at the front of the line.

What the heck is Ringleader's name that he gets to stand next to Shirogane? Wait, is he like Snipe where his hero name is his name? But that’d just mean he’d have been on the other side of Shirogane so I guess it doesn’t really matter… How do I not know his name? Oh god, is Sho rubbing off on me? After all these years??

Hizashi allowed the despair of slowly morphing into a replica of his reclusive, antisocial husband to occupy his thoughts as the students flooded in. He could just about ignore his displeasure at not being able to see Shirogane behind the expanse of blue and black nylon that made up Ringleader’s costume.

After the last of the student’s shuffled into place before him, Nedzu dove right into his Welcome Back speech, reminding the students of the expectations of UA and any upcoming news. 

Hizashi drummed an unsteady beat against his thigh, trying to keep time with the second hand of the far clock but failing as his excitement and nerves trembled through him. He was vibrating with it. 

30 seconds.

Did they cover all their bases? Shouta was the best at covering tracks but what if they left something behind? They’d done so much in so little time, they could’ve accidently left the smallest of crumbs that an experienced investigator could easily find.

20 seconds.

What if the officers coming were for them?! That’d be fine. Yeah. Toooootally fine. Hizashi could easily bash a few skulls in and establish himself as king of Tartarus where all the most vile and indiscriminate villains were housed. Definitely. He’d become king and protect Sho and any others accused of planting evidence and falsifying government records. 

10 seconds.

Or worse, no one was coming at all. All their hard work for nothing. All the bribes and threats, the planning and sprinting around in the dark just to get it all done in time for the best spectacle they could imagine, all for it to peeter out into nothing. A grand finale all prepared but the curtains remained firmly shut. 

Snipe leaned towards him, no doubt to ask about the nervous sweat Hizashi could feel on his temple when-

Bang!

Right on time.

Police officers and a few heroes spilled into the auditorium from all entrances, swarming the room. A few cries of surprise rang out from the students and they all pressed in on each other, forming a large huddle in the middle of the room as officers spread out around them. Hizashi spotted a pair of mouse ears under an ill-fitted cap among the rush of blue clad officers.

A large officer with bright purple skin strode directly to the stage, an officer and a hero, Hydrosis? maybe? God, Sho is rubbing off on me , flanking him on either side. 

When he spoke, authority rang from every word. “I apologize for the interruption Principal Nedzu, I am Police Chief Yanaka.”

“Hello Chief Yanaka. It appears you have arrived en force. May I inquire as to the reason for this display?” Nedzu sniffed in apparent irritation but Hizashi caught his ears flicking forwards in interest.

“Again I apologize for the intrusion, Principal Nedzu, but we are here to make an arrest.” He nodded to the two beside him and they stepped forwards, towards the end of the teachers line. 

Towards Hizashi.

“Itachi Shiratori, hero Ringleader, you are under arrest.”

Oh thank god. Wait…That’s what his name was?? Huh.

“What?!” Since he was at the end of the line, Hizashi slid out to watch in delight as Ringleader’s face started turning a mottled red. “What for?!”

Chief Yanaka pinned him down with a glare. “Possession and distribution of class four and class five drugs. Officer Takeda, read him his rights.”

Ringleader fended off the officer and the hero, Hydraulic? with big waves of his arms. “What? Wait, wait, wait, no, that's a lie! What drugs? Search my home, there's nothing there!” 

“We have. Your home was clear, yes, but we found your stash in the storage unit and traced the rest of it to your dealers.”

They’d already done all that? Hizashi felt oddly proud of the officers before him. Sho had sent in the tip just last night but even he had expected the full investigation to take a while.

Ringleader was spluttering. “My dealers? Storage unit? What storage- wait, that thing? I haven't opened that in years!”

“The footage we have says otherwise. You can't get out of this Shiratori. Takeda, the cuffs.”

“Stop!” He shouted, his face now entirely red. Hizashi could see sweat marks growing through his costume. “Stop! Call the Commission. They’ll prove I’m innocent. And when they do, you better be ready chief.” He sneered. “The Commission is going to destroy you and your career for this slander. You'll be lucky to give parking tickets by the time they're through with you.” He bolstered himself with his own words, confidence restored by the promise of his higher power coming to rescue him.

“The Commission gave us permission for the search and seizure.”

He deflated. Punctured by the crisp words from the chief.

“Wha- what?”

“Since they’re your handler, we approached the Commission after the anonymous tip and they gave us permission to investigate. Enthusiastic permission I would venture to say.”

“...anonymous tip? Who…” Realization dawned on Ringleader and it quickly swept into fury. Hizashi braced himself to lie through his teeth but Ringleader spun away from him. He rounded on a confused Shirogane. 

“You!” 

Shirogane pointed a delicate finger at himself and raised his eyebrows in question.

“Yes you! You set me up! You turned the Commission against me!”

Hizashi swore he saw brown eyes dart towards him before rolling up with a scoff.

“Don’t look down on me you fucking null!” Ringleader exploded. “You’re worthless and don’t belong here and you’re framing me in some pathetic attempt at revenge because you think I outed you to the world when it's your own fault for being defective! You can’t blame me for the world hating you!”

His words fed the fire of Hizashi’s anger but he tried his best to keep back. If he attacked Ringleader now it’d only hinder the perfect grand finale they’d planned. 

That and Snipe was holding him back.

Shirogane didn’t say anything. He wasn’t even looking Ringleader in the eyes anymore, instead he was staring straight ahead as if he wasn’t even there. It sent Ringleader’s anger skyrocketing.

“Stop ignoring me!” He screeched. Officer Takeda and the hero, Hypnosis?, were creeping closer behind him as he flailed in front of Shirogane. The other teachers had all stepped back, leaving them room for the final jump and beyond them, the students were all silent, attention rapt on the performance in front of them. 

As if finally hearing him, Shirogane tilted his head and looked up to Ringleader, his brow furrowed and curious. 

“Who are you?” 

Ringleader stood still for a second, frozen in disbelief. Hizashi started mentally popping champagne and the two behind Ringleader tensed to jump when Shirogane dropped the act and smirked.

The room blew apart.

In the split second before, Hizashi caught Ringleader, near purple with rage, throw a hand out and then they were all flung back by a hard ring of air. 

Snipe crashed into the wall next to him and they both struggled to get back on their feet. On the opposite side of the room, the other teachers and officers were doing the same.

Alone on the stage stood Ringleader and Shirogane. 

Meaty hands gripped thin shoulders. Nothing else happened at first beyond Shirogane grimacing and trying to shove Ringleader off. 

Until Shirogane started screaming in pain.

With a wordless snarl, Ringleader bore down on him, sending Shirogane to his knees and his screams turned to coughs. Great hacking coughs that sent blood splattering across his sweater and the stage.

Hizashi’s control slipped. 

“NO!” 

The stage shattered with his voice, blasting Shirogane and Ringleader into the back wall.

Horror at what happened stalled Hizashi for a split second before he surged forward, tripping over Snipe as he rushed towards Shirogane.

A blur of black and Shouta was there, sprinting from the other side of the broken stage, grabbing fistfuls of Ringleader's costume and chucking him up and off Shirogane. 

Right into Hizashi's path.

All his boiling fury and ice cold fear over hurting Shirogane condensed into one blazing moment as Hizashi reared back and slammed his fist into Ringleaders face, just above his jawline.

He went flying.

He crashed into the far wall and slid down with a thump. The other teachers had recovered and surrounded him warily, watching for any movement.

Trusting them to handle it, Hizashi dropped to his knees beside Shouta.

He was supporting a limp Shirogane.

“Shitshitshitshitshitshit! Fuck! Is he okay? Shirogane, are you okay? Please tell me you're okay!”

“He's unconscious, but I feel a pulse and he’s breathing.” Shouta's voice was calm, soothing the frantic edges of Hizashi’s worry just enough to actually take in Shirogane.

He was slumped against Shouta, passed out with blood still dribbling out of the corner of his mouth and spatters of it soaking into his rainbow cardigan. He was too still. Even at Shirogane’s most impassive, there was still the flicker of a blink or the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. But there was nothing now.

What had happened? Ringleader used his quirk like a cheap trick, tripping low level crooks with his immovable rings of air. But there wasn’t any outward sign of damage, which meant it was internal. But how? 

Wait, immovable? That wasn’t true, he’d just proven it wasn’t true when he knocked them all back with an expanding ring of air. And if he could actually manipulate their size and if he was pissed off enough, could he be able to put one of his rings inside someone? And if he squeezed…

“RG’s suite. Now!” He barked. If what he guessed was true, Shirogane needed immediate medical attention.

Shouta gave a short nod and scooped Shirogane up, the movement causing him to weakly cough up more blood but his eyes remained closed. Together they ran to the side entrance, past Nemuri as she held a stirring Ringleader aloft by his collar and decked him back into unconsciousness.

“Oh whoops! Looks like my quirk knocked him out by accident, how silly of me!” She trilled before dropping him like a sack of potatoes. She saw them speed by and walked over him to join their rush out the door. 

“Is he okay?” She shouted at their backs as she sprinted after them.

“Unconscious, but breathing.” Hizashi threw back.

“Fuck, I should’ve hit him harder!”

They ran.

Chapter Text

Recovery Girl was waiting for them when they arrived. Her and her interns were grim faced, standing at the ready.

She directed Shouta to a gurney without question. He laid Shirogane down with extraordinary care. He still wasn’t really sure what had happened, but knew that any sort of movement caused more rivulets of blood to seep past his lips.

It was starting to flake at the corners of his mouth. His sweater was ruined. It had eagerly soaked up his blood, dying the cheery colors a dark stain of reddish brown. 

It was wrong. All wrong.

Shirogane’s normal expression was one of blankness. A cultivated disinterest that hid his true emotions but this wasn’t that. This was deathly stillness. 

The only sign he was still alive was the shallow, wet breath that was whistling past his lips.

Gingerly, Shouta brushed a strand of hair that was getting dangerously close to the blood off his face. And then, feet feeling like they were tied to concrete blocks, he shuffled back a half step. Just enough room for Recovery Girl to swoop in with her interns and whisk Shirogane away. 

The door swung shut with an anticlimactic snick and Shouta tried to bore a hole through it with his eyes. Desperately willing himself to gain x-ray vision so he could keep an eye on Shirogane's chest. On the shallow rise and fall that proved he was still alive. 

“Part of your plan?” Nemuri asked icily. 

“Of course not!” Hizashi snapped.

“They were standing right next to each other!” She exploded. “You didn't think he'd do something?! He's been after Shirogane ever since he started working here!”

“He was surrounded by heros and officers!! I didn't think he was that idiotic!”

“Oh there's a surprise! Might as well put that on Shirogane's gravestone - Hizashi Yamada, never thinks things through!”

“Fuck you Nem!” Hizashi snarled.

“Enough. Both of you.” He peeled his eyes away from the door to see them at each other's throats. They stopped at his words but didn't look away, both trying their hardest to set the other on fire with their minds.

“Nem, that was too far.” She scoffed at his admonishment but stepped back, looking away. “And she's right Zash, we fucked up. But this isn't the time or place to talk about it.” 

Hizashi frowned and crossed his arms tightly.

They knew better than to fight when they were both so worked up, but Shouta didn’t blame them. As seasoned pro heroes, they had all borne witness to sudden, unpremeditated violence against civilians but to have it happen within the walls of UA? It was their unspoken sanctuary, a place where all they needed to worry about for a while was what Lunch Rush was going to serve for dessert.

And for it to be against the only coworker who wasn’t equipped for it? He could spar, yes. But it took years of training and life experience to handle the type of senseless rage villains used. Shirogane didn’t have that. He’d been helpless, at the mercy of Ringleader while all his friends, the pro heroes of UA, were scattered about the room.

The guilt was eating away at them all. Gnawing at their bones. Snapping at each other was a momentary appeasement, shooting the blame around at each other before realizing it didn’t make a difference.

They had all failed.

Shouta had failed.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he half turned, expecting to see Hizashi standing next to him but there was no one. His husband was across the hall, staring out the windows and Nemuri had found a chair to sink into. 

But there was a hand on his shoulder. He could feel it. A phantom grip that was solid and grounding. Comforting. 

Shouta couldn’t put into words what he was feeling but he could sense they were not alone anymore. He didn’t know what to make of it. Logically he was alarmed. Zashi and Nem weren’t reacting to it so he was the only one who was aware of it. How had it gotten into UA? Why was it revealing itself to Shouta? 

Was it dangerous?

He flared his quirk and swept the hall but nothing changed. No invisible quirked person then. It could be an emitter. He knew of some that specialized in causing phantom sensations or a few that could manipulate the senses. But from what Shouta knew, those kinds of quirks required a line of sight or a specific activation and neither seemed likely. 

No answers. Only more questions. 

…which was oddly reminiscent of Shirogane, now that he thought about it. His instincts weren’t baring their teeth at the intrusion either. Instead, they almost seemed to be rumbling in a welcoming purr. 

Well. It wasn’t doing any harm. And it was helping soothe Shouta’s exposed nerves so he decided to let it be. For now.

The hand gave a slight squeeze as if it knew Shouta’s line of thought and appreciated it. He ignored it. He could only suspend his disbelief so far before he snapped. And he needed what was left of his patience to wait for news of Shirogane.

They were still standing around in silence when Snipe and Nedzu arrived.

“Any news?” 

Shouta gave a curt shake of his head and Nedzu sighed. Snipe slipped his mask off and made himself comfortable against the far wall. 

“Good news is that with the additional charges of assault and attempted homicide, the likelihood of any outcome other than incarceration is down to 0.09%.”

“It’s such a comfort to know that Shirogane sacrificed himself for a percent difference. Who knows! Maybe it’ll be pure homicide and we can get it down to 0.02%!” Hizashi said scathingly. Shouta shot him a glare and he turned away from them with a huff of barely concealed guilt. He was a coiled spring of anger, lashing out wherever he could. 

“I can only fervently hope that won't be the case. I trust Recovery Girl and her team to do their best and I trust Shirogane to know the consequences of dying while employed by me.” 

“It's not like he has any control over it Nedzu.” Nemuri said sadly. She was slumped over, her previous anger gone.

“You'd be surprised.” He answered mysteriously. “But no matter. While we wait for news, each of you will give your statement to the police.” Hizashi twisted around with a twisted frown but Nedzu cut his complaints off with a sharp- “No arguments!” 

By unspoken agreement, they decided to take turns. Nemuri headed out first, Nedzu following to speak with Chief Yanaka. Nothing happened while she was gone beyond Hizashi claiming her chair. He was all tucked in on himself, arms and legs crossed with his foot bouncing erratically in the air. 

Snipe went next. Nemuri and Hizashi avoided each other, too upset to apologize but knowing they didn’t want to start fighting again. Shouta remained at the door, the steady presence still at his side. 

When Snipe returned, Hizashi had barely let him get back through the door before sprinting past him. He was the quickest to return, no doubt having answered the questions as fast as possible and running back. 

His turn.

Like stale gum under a desk, Shouta peeled himself away from his vigil by the door. The presence stayed behind. He felt bereft without it, his shoulder where the hand had rested tingling with cold.

The officers were patient, reasking their questions when he needed them too and kindly jotting down his curt answers. He couldn’t concentrate. His mind was still at the door. 

He knew he needed to. It was perilous to be speaking with officers while his mind was a mess after pulling off the set up of a lifetime. But he must’ve answered intelligently enough that they let him leave without cuffing him for framing a fellow teacher and indirectly causing the near death of another.

Fuck. I messed up.  

Shirogane’s bloodied, lifeless face wouldn’t leave his mind. He couldn’t believe he forgot to factor in his obsession with Shirogane. Once again, he’d underestimated Ringleader.

First, he believed Ringleader an incompetent fool of a hero. Too insignificant to waste any time or thought on. The daydreams of stringing him up by his own guts had been idle fantasies, more a testament to his love and desire to protect Hizashi than because he thought he was an actual threat. 

And now, he hadn’t bothered to plan for the fall out. All precarious plans and positionings he and Zashi had done over the past week finished the second the officers stepped through the door. For what could Ringleader do beyond walking out in cuffs? He hadn’t once imagined he’d be foolish, no, stupid enough to attack anyone while he was surrounded by heros and police. 

He should have. He was the strategist. That was his role. To protect those he cared about, he investigated any threat, planned excursions and extracurriculars down to the second, intuited every reaction someone could have and prepared for any eventuality.

Things slipped through the cracks. Of course they did. But usually they were unimportant. Tiny missteps that he could easily correct or wipe from servers. 

Not ones that ended in the death of a coworker. 

No. Not just a coworker. He’s more than that now. He has been, you’ve just been too blind to notice. Fool. You did this to your friend.  

Because that’s what he was. Of course he was. Shouta had held on to the mistrust too tight to notice, but he’d been instinctively counting him as one of his pack for a while now. Long enough that he couldn’t place the exact moment it clicked.

It could’ve been when Shirogane took his suggestion to follow after Hizashi to Gym Delta and try to calm him without question. Or the numerous times he caught him listening to Hizashi ramble with fondness written all over his face.

It might’ve been any of the moments when Shirogane had bared his teeth, small moments when he revealed the truth behind his mask. 

But if he was being honest with himself, it was probably at the beginning. Before the after school walks full of friendly squabbles and the showdown at the beach. Before the horrid karaoke and the verbal cat fight they had had in a dark alley. 

From the moment he’d walked into the teachers room, wearing a sweater bright enough to make his eyes melt, when his instincts couldn’t decide between running for the hills or throwing him out the window. 

That was the moment. 

If only he’d accepted it sooner, maybe all this could have been avoided. Maybe Shirogane would have trusted them and together they could have come up with a plan. Something better so he wouldn’t have ended up under the hand of Ringleader, bleeding from the inside. Dying.

Stop. He’s not dead. It became a mantra, spoken in time to the trudge of his feet. But he couldn’t help the whispered yet that took his breath away. 

Not much had changed by the time he returned. Nemuri was back in her chair and Hizashi was pacing the hall, a jumpy hum fitting his agitated stride. Snipe leaned casually against the wall. He could’ve been the picture of nonchalance if not for his constant spinning and racking of his pistol.

Shouta joined him against the wall. He couldn’t sense the elusive fifth presence anymore. He tried not to let it worry him.

They waited. 

Nedzu returned in silence. Even with his animal face, Shouta could tell he was somber. He ended up on his shoulder, his whiskers tickling his cheek but Shouta barely even registered it, too caught up in his own mental anguish. 

His fault.

Hizashi felt guilty too, his frantic pacing told him as much, but Shouta knew he played no part in it. Sure, he was the flint and stone that sparked their plan, but Shouta was the one who neglected to tend it properly. And Shirogane was the one who got burned. 

Nemuri shifted in her seat, leaning back with a sigh and a slight jump when she finally registered that Nedzu was there.

“Oh! Nedzu, is everyone gone? Did you send the student’s home?”

“I did. They’ll be back tomorrow and we’ll hold another assembly to discuss what happened and each and everyone of them will have a short session with Ryo to ensure they are not too traumatized by the incident. And yes, Shiratori has been removed from the premises without further incident considering he was thoroughly unconscious by the time the officers got to him.” He said it blithely, without a hint of accusation, certainly aware that neither Hizashi nor Nemuri would be inclined towards remorse if he scolded them. “He’s being taken to the Mikoshiba Detention Center while awaiting trial.” 

Nemuri nodded shortly and they lapsed back into silence, save for Hizashi’s erratic humming.

It was awful. It always was, waiting on bated breath for the verdict. He knew he was lucky Hizashi was a long distance fighter. It was a rare thing for him to get injured enough to require a hospital trip and they patched themselves up after extracurriculars. 

But Tensei was in the hospital so much it’d turned into a running joke- whether or not he’d gotten a frequent flyer card or if the hospital staff were in his will yet. Nemuri and Naomasa weren't exempt either. 

And of course Shouta had had a number of close calls. The knife in the back had been particularly bad. But Shouta would always choose being the one in the bed over being the one who hovered over the end of it. 

Because every time he did, he felt like a failure. 

His pack, his family had gotten injured and he hadn’t been able to prevent it. 

Logically, he knew he shouldn’t feel that way. He’d chosen a pack of heroes. And heroism meant risking injury to save people. If he wanted to erase all potential threats, he should have bought that ranch house in the mountains and whisked them away. 

But he hadn’t. 

So now he had to live with the scalding guilt every time one of them ended up on a gurney, stuck with IV’s and delirious from pain meds. Fighting against the illogical pull of shame for failing. But he didn’t have to fight it this time. It was logical. He’d very directly failed his friend. His friend who wasn’t a hero, who didn’t sign up for torment and villain face offs.

His friend who could be dying. Could already be dead. 

His fault.

His fault.

His fault.

Snipe broke the silence next, unintentionally pulling Shouta out of his spiral.

“Have any of you told Ten or Nao?”

“I took the liberty of texting them after sending the officers away. They send well wishes and promise to be here the second they are done with their shifts.”

“Thanks Nedzu.” Nemuri whispered wetly. Her mascara was suspiciously smudged under her thin eye mask but no one commented on it. 

The door opened.

Shouta jerked out of his lean and everyone else snapped forward as well, staring hard at Recovery Girl. 

“He’s fine.”

The air left the room in a woosh and they all slumped. 

“Oh thank god.” Nemuri choked on a sob. Shouta crossed the hallway and put a hand on her shoulder. She clutched at it gratefully. 

“I won’t lie. It was a near thing. If it wasn’t for the efforts of Misora and Saeki, he wouldn’t have made it. But their quirks were extraordinarily well suited for what needed to be done.”

There was silence as they all processed the relief at those words before Hizashi spoke the question they were all too terrified to ask.

“What happened?”

Recovery Girl sighed and clacked her cane. In that moment, she looked far older than her already aged years.

“Ringleader has been lying about the limitations of his quirk, something you all are no doubt aware of by now.”

Shouta saw Hizashi’s knuckles go white as he fisted his hands. He’d been too focused on Shirogane to think much of what exactly had happened but Hizashi with his quick mind, must’ve pieced it together already.

“He created a thin, sharp ring of air within Shirogane’s chest and slowly shrunk it. Most of his lungs and a portion of his heart were sliced.” She drew a line across her own chest, demonstrating the placement of the ring of air. Shouta’s own chest panged in sympathetic pain.

“Misora’s quirk functions as a scanner. He was able to locate the severs and give us a map of the affected locations. Then it was up to Saeki. She is able to temporarily fuse a person's flesh together if she can see the wound. The concept of ‘seeing’ extends to scans, something she has been training towards for years now and only just recently accomplished. Working in tandem, they were able to piece Shirogane back together. Then it was only a matter of blood transfusions and draining his lungs.”

Remarkable. And damn lucky. Shouta didn’t dare entertain any thought of what would have happened if either of the two student’s had been sick today and missed school. 

“Can we see him?”

“Should you be telling us this?”

Hizashi and Snipe spoke over each other and Hizashi whipped around to glare at the sharpshooter.

“We’re his friends! Of course she can tell us!”

“Not family though. Which is usually the protocol for sharing medical information if I’m not mistaken RG.”

“You’re correct young lad. But to answer both your questions, he gave me his permission to share the details.”

“He did? When? He was unconscious when we brought him.” Nem asked.

“After surgery. He’s awake and ready for visitors.” She clacked her cane on the floor and scowled but gestured for them to follow her.

“He’s awake?” Nem gasped, springing to her feet and hurrying after Recovery Girl. The rest of them followed like desperate shadows.

“He is. But please do not be too excitable with him, he is still recovering from a traumatic event, no matter how fine he appears.”

She led the way into a sterile room where Shirogane was sitting up in a hospital bed, his warm complexion at odds with the gleaming whiteness around him. He turned from looking out the window as they all squeezed through the door and smiled at them.

Shouta felt his breath catch at the sight. 

Alive.

“What are you doing sitting up?” Recovery Girl snapped, stomping over to the bed and poking at him with her cane until he acquiesced and laid back down.

“Honestly, you’re not even a hero and yet you're worse than this lot!” She jabbed her cane in their direction and they all took a hasty step back, Hizashi even going so far as to throw his hands up in surrender.

“I better not see you moving again, you hear? Saeki’s quirk may be less fragile than stitches but you shouldn’t move much at all lest your wounds retear. In five hours, we’ll rescan you and see what Saeki needs to refuse until your body naturally starts healing itself.”

Shirogane nodded at the information, trying and failing to look innocent. Recovery Girl gave him a glare and then swept her ire towards them.

“I repeat, Shirogane should not do anything that will put strain on his injuries, am I clear?” They nodded hastily.

“Good. Nedzu, shall we? I need to talk to you.”

“Of course, Chiyo. Lead the way.” Shouta helped Nedzu drop to the ground and together the two of them left. Shirogane popped back up the second the door clicked shut.

“Shiro!” Nemuri cried and threw herself over his legs on the bed. 

“Careful Kayama.” Snipe warned as Shirogane patted her head.

“It’s okay, I’m okay. I’m all patched up Kayama, nothing to worry about.”

“How?”

Shirogane tipped his head in Hizashi’s direction. His hair was mussed, the usually crisp lines of his braids ragged. He wore the hospital gown well, almost making it seem couture, but it still exposed his thin forearms and stark collarbones. 

The only trace left of his blood was a smudge of brown on the underside of his jaw. Shouta beat back the urge to wipe it off. 

“How what?”

“How are you okay? And I don’t mean because of the wonder duo. How are you awake right now? How are you speaking? Ringleader sliced through your lungs! Even fused back together, it should feel like agony to even breathe.”

Hizashi’s voice was hard. He’d worked himself up pretty badly in the hallway and Shouta had been too busy spiraling himself to help pull him out of it. So now he was spun tight without an outlet. And it was making Shirogane wary.

He shrugged slowly. “RG must’ve given me the good drugs to numb the pain. And I’ve always come out of anesthesia quickly.”

Hizashi chewed over his answer before sighing and cracking his arms out of their tight cross across his chest. He sank down onto the bed near Shirogane’s legs, shoving Nemuri out of his way. She sat up with her tongue sticking out and they bickered over his knees. 

Though out of the corner of his eye, Shouta saw them briefly clasp hands and squeeze. An apology, in their own way. 

“You’re okay?” Shouta asked softly. He couldn’t look away from Shirogane. He wanted to burn out the memory of his deathly still face with this one. The one with a small smile and the hint of a dimple under calm eyes.

Eyes that looked upon him warmly, as if he could sense all the turbulent emotions and fears he kept locked deep beneath the surface.

“I am.”

Zashi and Nem ceased their bickering and a comfortable silence fell on them, the final strand of tension melted away. 

He was alive.

Shifting back and adjusting the bed so he was still sitting but reclined, Shirogane made himself comfortable before asking,

“What happened? I don’t remember much after Ringleader got his hands on me.”

That launched an epic retelling by Nem and Zashi. Snipe and Shouta left them too it, preferring to sit back and watch from the chairs at the end of the bed. 

They had just finished the story when there was a knock at the door. Shouta opened it to the worried faces of Tensei and Naomasa who brightened with relief to see Shirogane sitting up.

“Shirogane! How are you? We didn’t think you’d be awake!” Tensei popped over to his bedside to hover over him awkwardly, clearly wanting to hug him but holding himself back. Nao came up behind, large bags in his hands that he set down directly onto Shirogane’s lap.

“We’ve brought food, plenty for all of us since we knew none of you would have left.”

“You’re the best!” Hizashi crowed, diving in to rustle around in the bags.

“Thank you!” Nemuri mirrored Zashi, yanking a bag to her to start bringing out the take out boxes.

“Hello Iida, Tsukauchi. Thank you for visiting, you didn’t have to.” 

“Of course we did! You’re our friend and that means you get the same hospital treatment we all do!” Ten said, plucking a carton of chicken katsu out of Nem’s hand and dodging her retaliating swat.

“Nothing better than waking up from anesthesia surrounded by friends and good food!” Hizashi agreed, tossing a packet of anpan at Shouta. He caught it gratefully. 

“Is that why you’re in the hospital so much Tensei? An easy way to get a nap and free food?” Snipe teased.

“I can neither confirm nor deny.” Tensei responded with a slight blush. He and Nao made themselves comfortable on the other bed in the room, sharing a packet of dipping sauce between them.

“So what happened exactly? Nedzu didn’t share many details.” Nao asked.

“Oh my god, don’t get them started.” Shouta groaned. 

“Silence! You know the hospital stay rules!” Tensei exclaimed dramatically to a chorus of ‘here here!’ from the peanut gallery that was Nemuri and Hizashi.

“This is why you never catch me in a hospital.” He grumbled.

“No, you’re never in the hospital because you’re scared of needles.” Nem fired back.

“Lies. Slander.”

“Nope! That’s true.”

“Zash!” 

“Sorry babe, but you have so few weaknesses that I can’t help but pounce on the ones you do have.”

He sank into his seat and definitely didn’t pout, ignoring all the traitors he calls his friends to focus on eating his food. Without further hindrance, Nem and Zashi retold the story, adding in flair here and there until it became a story of Shirogane spitting in Ringleader's face and Hizashi’s punch sending him across the whole UA campus. 

None of them could remember how or where this tradition had started but it had been early on in their careers. Fresh faced heroes coming to terms with the exhausting truth of the work and the painfully familiarity of hospitals and seeing your dearest friends wrapped in gauze after another too close call. 

It had probably started as a joke. A small attempt at lightening the somber mood as they stood vigil in a sterile hallway or around a stiff bed. But it worked. So they kept doing it.

Every time one of them ended up in the hospital and after the worst had passed, they’d retell the story of what had happened, and add to it. Small at first, but then more dramatic with each retelling until their fights became epic battles that put All Might to shame. 

Until their hurt family member was laughing right alongside them, bolstered by the confidence and support of their pack.

They hadn’t added another to their routine in a while. Snipe was the latest, after he’d almost lost his hand a year ago and Tensei had been inconsolable. 

And now, it was Shirogane’s turn. He sat quietly in the eye of the storm. His eyes wide as he took in everyone around him, bouncing back and forth between conversations and too enraptured with them all to eat, the take out box and fork hanging loose in his hand. 

Shouta studied him from behind his own food. Still working to convince himself he was actually alive but also to try and get a read on what he was feeling. 

He looked… lost. And confused.

Like he couldn’t understand why they were here, chatting and laughing around his hospital bed as if they had nowhere else they’d rather be. 

It was a far cry from the ancient horror that Shouta had glimpsed beneath his mask during their fight. That Shirogane could rend a god in half before breakfast if the mood struck him, his strength and fury indomitable. He was war personified on that beach.

There was no trace of that now. He had always been shorter than all of them but he’d never seemed so, the force of his personality more than making up for his lack of height. 

But now, buried in scratchy sheets and a clinically white gown, he looked small.

Surrounded by friends who poured out affection as easy as breathing, he was overwhelmed. Uncertain. Chewing on his bottom lip so much, Shouta wouldn’t be surprised if it started bleeding.

And a small part of Shouta ached for him. Because he recognized it. 

The moment when you come face to face with the perplexing concept that there are people who care. The uncertainty of whether or not to accept it. Fighting against the hard earned lessons that letting people in only leads to hurt. 

Maybe he hasn’t just been physically starved. Maybe he needs someone to care for him.

Shouta suddenly recalled Shirogane’s karaoke song. Usually he refrained from placing meaning to things like that, putting it on the same level as horoscopes or powerpoints vs. stares or the old Myers Briggs test. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was right. That it had been a subconscious cry for help. That Shirogane desperately needed them, even if he hadn’t realized it yet.

It wasn’t a theory he could confirm right now. He’d only succeed in driving him away if he tried interrogating him again. All he and his pack could do was make sure he knew he had a support system now. 

Content with his, rather ambiguous, plan, Shouta mentally rejoined the festivities to find they had started playing hero charades. He should have stayed mentally checked out.

In the small space of the room, Tensei was bouncing around, flapping his arms wildly and stopping every third beat to pose in weird ways, batting his eyelashes and blowing kisses to Nemuri. 

“Ryukyu?” Nao tried but Ten shook his head and flailed his arms some more.

“Chiroptera!” 

“Gullman!” 

“Present Mic when there’s a bug around!”

“Hey! I don’t look like that!”

“You do.” They all chorused and Hizashi stuck his tongue out at them.

“It’s Hawks.” Shirogane said and Tensei pointed at him excitedly.

“You got it! Whew, took you guys long enough!” He dropped back onto the bed beside Nao in feigned exhaustion.

“There’s literally so many heroes that have wings, how were we supposed to know?” Hizashi complained.

“And what was with all that posing? Does Hawks do that?” Snipe asked.

“He’s literally the biggest flirt, do you not read all those expose’s about him?”

“Can’t say I’m interested in the sex life of another hero.” Nemuri drawled. “Nor do I want to hear about you drooling over him. One crush is bad enough.”

“Crush? What crush, I don’t know what you’re- you-I-you know what! I do not drool over him!” Tensei scrambled, his eyes flicking towards Snipe. “I don’t! It’s just hard to miss, he’s in the papers every other week with a new fling.”

“Suuuuuure, maybe we should invite him to our next bar night. Give you a chance to ogle him in 3d.” Hizashi teased. 

“I don’t ogle him!” Tensei cried, obviously trying very hard to make sure Snipe knew he was telling the truth without being obvious about it.

“Methinks you doth protest too much.” 

“Shut up Zashi or I’ll start quoting your top ten cringiest lines from your Viking fanfics.” Tensei warned, jabbing a chopstick at him.

“Ha! Jokes on you, I’m not ashamed of it! Quote away, if you can.” Hizashi boasted. A brave and foolish dare considering Shouta knew how seriously Tensei took teasing his friends. Sure enough-

“Alright then, number 10.” Tensei sat up straight and adopted a far off look like he was a Shakespearan actor on stage. “The heat simmering between us made the warmth of the night seem like a cold winter’s day as we hid from our attackers in a narrow alley, pressed tight against one another. I could feel his throbbing member against my hip and I whimpered before I could stop myself. “Hush little bird or they’ll hear us.” His gravel voice in my ear turned my knees to jelly-”

“Aaaaah!” With a wordless shout, Hizashi launched himself from Shirogane’s bed, over his legs and a snickering Nemuri to tackle a cackling Tensei to the floor.

“Shutupshutupshutup! How do you have that memorized?!”

Nao deftly tucked his feet up and under him on the bed to give the two room on the floor below and they all watched them wrestle for a moment before Snipe cleared his throat.

“I believe it’s your turn Shirogane, since you guessed correctly.”

“Don’t do anything crazy like Ten though, you’re still injured.” Nemuri advised as she also brought her feet up and out of the way. 

“I have one that’ll be easy to do.” Shirogane assured her and then reached down beside his bed to drag a trash can further out. He mimed lighting a match and tossing it into the trash can and settling back, holding his hands out as if warming them by the fire. 

“Endeavor.” Shouta guessed.

Shirogane grinned and nodded. Laughter erupted, filling the room with levity and even Shouta found himself chuckling softly.

He was in a good enough mood that he only resisted a little before doing a lackluster impression of Lady Nagant who Nemuri guessed after a few tries. 

She was halfway through her own charade when Recovery Girl reappeared with harsh whacks of her cane, shouting at them for being too rowdy and for their abysmal bedside manners. 

Snipe and Ten fled with Nemuri on their heels, the traitors. Naomasa at least had the decency to apologize to the pint sized furious doctor before making his exit. That left Shouta and Zashi at her mercy but they bore it as long as they could, unwilling to leave quite yet.

Shirogane took pity on them after another dozen raps of her cane.

“Recovery Girl, can I please have a moment with Yamada and Aizawa? I promise we will all behave.” His wide eyed pleading look was good enough for her to only grumble a tiny bit before leaving them alone again after checking his vitals.

Shouta stretched out of his seat and made to move closer but froze at the angry scowl now twisting Shirogane’s face, the frivolity from only seconds ago vanishing just as fast as the trio of fools had.

“What did you two do?!” He whispered furiously. The sheets bunched in his fists and he was sitting straight up again.

“What do you mean?” Hizashi asked tentatively. He was leaning away from Shirogane, probably subconsciously. Even incapacitated, Shirogane gave off an impressive pissed off aura.

“I’m not an idiot!” Shirogane hissed. “I share my research with you and then a week later Ringleader is being arrested for drug trafficking? Drugs that I never once found during my incredibly thorough investigation?”

Oh.

“Fuck.” Hizashi said, emphatically. Shouta agreed. How negligent, how embarrassing.

They had unashamedly used Shirogane’s exhaustive research for their own benefit. How could they not? It was an eagle eye view into Ringleader's life and they could cherry pick the locations and blind spots in his routine to twist into a drug dealer fabrication.

But in their rush and revenge fueled zeal, it apparently hadn’t occurred to them that the person who had put together such a thorough dossier would notice the sudden appearance of drugs. 

A tendril of fear wrapped around Shouta’s spine. If Nedzu ever found out about this blunder, his caffeine withdrawal punishment would seem like a slap on the wrist.

“Look, Shirogane-” Shouta was interrupted by the wave of a hand.

“Save it. I don’t want to know the details or how you, heroes and hero teachers, got your hands on such a significant amount of drugs. I just want to know why. I thought you agreed to trust me?” His voice broke at the end, dropping into a whisper.

“Oh hun, we do, we do trust you.” Hizashi leaned forward, resting a hand on the sheet above his knee.

“Then why? Why did you risk so much?” He pleaded, looking between the two of them.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t that they didn’t trust him. 

For all Shouta’s past claims otherwise, the half truths and evasives answers, while annoying, didn’t change the fact that Shirogane would never do anything to hurt a student. Coupled with his disdain for Ringleader in general, they had known it was only a matter of time before Shirogane found the evidence he needed.

But that didn’t account for his and Zashi’s biggest character flaw.

“Arrogance.” He said simply, finally approaching the bed and sitting opposite Hizashi, Shirogane’s blanketed legs between them. His husband hummed shortly in thought before nodding in resigned agreement. 

“What?” The word was laden with surprise. Shouta ran a hand through his hair with a sigh.

“We knew you’d get him. Eventually. But-”

“I didn’t have the patience for it.” Hizashi interrupted. “I’m sorry Shirogane. I didn’t think beyond my own desire to see him locked up, without caring how it was done.”

“ We didn’t think. I’m sorry too. Not for putting Ringleader away, but because we didn’t think about how it’d affect you.”

Their apologies hung in the air before them as Shirogane stared at them both, his face blank. They waited with bated breath, unsure whether it was enough. 

It wasn’t. Shouta knew it wasn’t. They’d have to do much more to earn forgiveness. Their actions had almost killed him. It was only fair they proved their remorse beyond simple apologies.

But then Shirogane simply nodded, relaxing back into the reclined bed.

“I understand. And do not worry, I doubt anyone could have predicted this.” He said dryly, gesturing at himself. He picked up a forgotten box of food and started shoveling the remainders into his mouth. 

“I should have.” Shouta muttered, refusing to let himself off the hook as easily as Shirogane had. Shirogane shrugged as he chewed.

“All's well that ends well. It could have been worse. If Ringleader was one brain cell smarter, he might have figured out the real culprits and attacked you instead.”

“I fail to see how that’d be worse my guy, just means I would’ve been able to punch him faster.”

“But he could’ve killed either of you.” 

“He tried to kill you.” Shouta pointed out. Shirogane said nothing. He only chewed carefully and searched for another tray of food. Shouta tugged the last one out of his reach and eyed him, pout and all.

“Shirogane. He almost killed you.”

“Yes, I was there. Can I have that?”

Shouta didn’t move.

“Why would it have been worse if he had attacked me or Zashi?”

Shirogane avoided his eyes and made a weak swipe towards the food. Hizashi caught his hand and held it, tugging gently to get him to raise his head towards them.

“Answer him.” Hizashi gently demanded. 

He was struggling not to answer. Shouta could feel the minute bouncing of his foot under the sheets even though he was once again blank faced. But just as he could piece together his feelings earlier, Shouta could tell he was close to breaking.

“Please?” Hizashi nudged, batting his eyes over his tinted glasses. That did it.

“It just would have been!” Shirogane cried, pulling his hand from Hizashi to fling both of them upwards before using them to gesture wildly as he dropped into a tirade. 

“You’re both amazing heroes and teachers and Yamada you have your radio show and Aizawa you’re doing so well training Midoriya and you have each other and a whole family that loves you both so much! So of course I was the best option to take the brunt of Ringleader's anger! It was all my fault to begin with anyway, agreeing to that stupid, restrictive contract and not being discreet enough to keep you both from finding out about it. Because I knew you’d never be able to walk away from it! But no, the second you start walking around in no shirts and crop tops with criminally loose sweatpants I share every last bit of research I’ve done and expect nothing to come from it! It was all my fault. All of it. It’s only right that I take the consequences.”

He was breathing hard after his rant, his usual eloquence and composure gone. 

As used to long rambles as he was being married to Zashi, it was taking Shouta a while to process all that and he didn’t have any good response yet. His husband on the other hand, did.

“Oh ho ho? So all we need to do is show some more skin and you’ll reveal all your secrets?” He purred, dropping his hand back to the jut of Shirogane’s knee and squeezing. Shirogane gaped.

“What? No? I didn’t say that.”

“But you did, darling. Criminally loose sweatpants? I have plenty more to choose from if you want, or I can break out the short shorts.” He winked.

“There’s-that’s- no that’s fine.” He stuttered, a blush darkening his cheeks as Hizashi chuckled lowly, a little mean.

“What’s the matter daaarling? You were flirting with me only a few days ago but now you’re all flustered.”

“That’s because I was delirious from lack of sleep and the pain of having my scalp ripped open.” He replied testily but didn’t remove Hizashi’s hand from his knee.

“Speaking of, how is it? Have you been dressing it properly?” Hizashi asked, bringing his other hand up to brush back the hair but Shirogane pushed it away with a shake of his head.

“It’s fine. If anything Recovery Girl’s quirk healed up the last of it.”

“Shirogane.” Shouta grabbed his attention. Hizashi’s brazen flirting had given him the time he needed to fully grasp the extent of Shirogane’s speech and flesh out an appropriate response.

“You’re wrong.”

“No, it really has healed.”

“Not about that.” Shouta snapped. His remaining guilt and anger towards himself was curdling into something ugly. Something that he couldn’t stop from pushing outwards towards the man before him.

“About the fact that you seem to think you being hurt is the preferable outcome. Because it’s not. You have to know it’s not. Hizashi and I aren’t more important just because we’re heroes or have a family.”

Hizashi stepped in. “And being a hero means we’re the ones qualified to take the hits! It’s literally our job to handle villains and kick their ass!”

Shirogane opened his mouth to speak but Shouta beat him to it.

“It’s not yours.” His voice was like steel, unrelenting in the face of Shirogane’s annoyance. “It isn’t. And this sacrificial streak of yours? Is going to stop.” He dropped his hand to his ankle and gave it a little shake for emphasis.

“Or what?” Shirogane sneered down his nose at Shouta, petulant in the face of his command. 

Brat.

“Or I’ll chain you to our bed and never let you leave. If that’s what it takes to keep you safe.” He growled, his grip turning vice-like on his ankle.

Hizashi made a noise of surprise and excitement while Shirogane swallowed hard. Shouta tracked the bob of his throat with a possessive hunger.

“Kidnapping is illegal.” He tried, his voice raspy.

“So is framing someone for drug dealing. Do you see us in cuffs?” Shouta threatened. He wouldn’t mess it up this time. If pushed, he’d do it right. No one would know what happened to him.

Brown eyes dropped to his wrist above his ankle and stayed there. “Careful Eraserhead, it almost sounds like you care.” His words were fragile, without the usual underlying teasing tone.

Shouta immediately noticed the reversion to his hero name, a desperate attempt to put distance between them, putting them back to that first day when Shirogane was an unknown and Shouta swimming in mistrust. 

“I do.” He said forcefully. Shirogane’s eyes snapped up to his. “ We do. All of us. That’s why we waited to see you, why Ten and Nao came after work. Whether you like it or not, you’re a part of our pack now. And we protect those in our pack.”

He tried to put emphasis on the last sentence, willing Shirogane to believe him and understand what it meant. By the wobble of his bottom lip and dampening of his eyes, it seems he got the message. At least for now. Shouta knew it’d take more than one bedside congregation to make it stick.

“Alright, that’s enough. Shirogane needs his rest.” Recovery Girl appeared once again, her two interns trailing along behind, making them all jump. 

Shouta reluctantly extracted his hand from Shirogane’s ankle.

“We’ll see you tomorrow!” Hizashi assured him as they took their leave. Shirogane gave them an absent wave goodbye, his mind clearly elsewhere.    

They didn’t speak until they were a good block and a half away from UA’s borders. Away from Nedzu’s cameras.

“Chain him to our bed? That’s kinky Sho.” Hizashi snickered under his breath. 

Shouta groaned and dropped his chin into his scarf. “I overreacted.”

“Nah, nah, I thought it was cute. I knew you cared about him, just didn’t know you knew you did.”

“Nothing like almost dying to put things in perspective.” 

“It’s almost poetic how that works, isn’t it? Maybe that’s what Tensei and Snipe need. Which one do you think would need to almost die to get the other to confess?”

Shouta thought about it. “Snipe. But I’m not going to scheme for another friends near death. Not for at least a month.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to do it! I was just speculating.” Hizashi grumbled.

“Right.”

They were quiet the rest of the way to Hizashi’s studio, Hizashi caught up in mentally dissecting those they passed and Shouta enjoying the silence between them. He loved to listen to his husband ramble but when his own mind was turbulent, he needed a respite to settle it. 

When they got there, they hesitated. Both of them didn’t want to settle for their usual impersonal goodbye but they couldn’t risk much else. And there were no convenient alleyways to sneak into.

Shouta settled for gripping Hizashi’s upper arm and giving it a squeeze.

“It’s not your fault.” He said, watching Hizashi’s dazzling eyes dull for a second, betraying the turmoil he still felt. He nodded, if only to appease Shouta.

“It’s not yours either.” 

Shouta nodded. They were both lying. 

“Oh shit, what’s Mashiro doing here?” Hizashi whined, his attention stolen by something inside his studio. Shouta turned to see the perpetually grumpy man that managed Hizashi’s PR standing awestruck beside Okada, the studio manager.

“Nothing good I’m sure. Better get in there before his brain melts.”

“I love Okada, really I do, but I don’t understand why all the guys keep falling at her feet.”

“You’re just jealous they aren’t falling at yours.”

“Of course I am.” He sniffed. “I have way more sex appeal than she does!”

“To quote Tensei, she has ‘major milf vibes and could spank me over her knee any day.’”

Hizashi shook his head and body out like a wet dog. “Ugh! Gross! I’m going to bill him for therapy just like Nao does.”

“You do that. After you see what Mashiro wants.”

“Fiiiiiiiiiiiine.” Hizashi whined. He twitched in an aborted move to give Shouta a kiss, frowned that he couldn’t and then squared his shoulders and walked into his studio with just a “See you later!” thrown towards Shouta as he did.

He’d be fine. Working the radio always calmed him down. Shouta opened the radio app on his phone, ready to listen whenever Hizashi started as he headed home.

As much as a nap sounded nice before his patrol, he had another project in mind. Namely, the ins and outs of the Mikoshiba Detention Center security. 

The curtain was drawn, the spectacle was over. It didn’t matter what happened to Ringleader anymore.

If only he hadn’t put his hands on Shirogane, Shouta might have allowed him to live.

Chapter Text

The kid would. not. stop. texting. him. 

Due to Nemuri’s reporter friend slipping in among the officers, the news of what had happened hit the papers and the media within hours of the incident. At that time, no one knew if Shirogane was going to survive the assault and so rumors and speculation ran rampant.

The benefit of which was that the Commission was doing a lot of public bowing and scraping in apology which was very gratifying to witness.

Downside was that it made a certain anxious green ball of irrational fears pester Shouta incessantly.  

All Monday evening and way too far into the night and then way too early in the morning and throughout the day when he was supposed to be in school. Text after text after text.

For every one that Shouta sent reassuring Midoriya that Shirogane was in fact, not dead, he had fifteen replies of varying coherence as the kid hyperventilated over text. 

Had Shouta actually seen Shirogane within the past ten minutes? How did he know he wasn’t bleeding out? What if Recovery Girl couldn’t heal everything and Shirogane was slowly bleeding internally and no one caught it until it was too late? Not that he doubted Recovery Girl’s capabilities! No, not at all, he knows she’s an amazing medical hero and UA is lucky to have her and-and-and!

…it was a lot. Even Hizashi didn't text him that much.

In a desperate bid for silence, Shouta convinced the kid to visit UA with him instead of their usual Tuesday evening training session. If seeing Shirogane breathing and talking wasn’t enough for the kid, Shouta wasn’t sure what else he could do. At the very least, he’d be changing his number.

So now he was sweating in his jumpsuit, loitering at a corner not far from UA as he waited for the kid. Hizashi had already left for a short shift of patrol, promising to stop by RG’s suite later. 

He distracted himself by trying to win over a snooty princess of a cat that was perched on top of an awning. 

A few too many cat snacks and a swipe of claws later, Shouta realized it was two minutes past their planned meeting time. Not enough to bother him normally, but for the kid who showed up consistently fifteen minutes early to every training so far, it was enough. 

He checked his phone. No notifications. He sent a text on the off chance the kid had gotten distracted before scanning the street. No sign of bouncing green curls headed his way.

Giving one last attempt at a head scratch and receiving another swipe, Shouta left his post and headed up the street.

Midoriya’s address was a far walk but he knew the kid didn’t have money for the trains or a bus. And no friends' houses he might be coming from. So Shouta was confident of the route he’d take to get here, the straightest shot from his apartment. 

The more steps he took without any sign of the kid, the more his stomach knotted. He inspected every alley as he went, listening hard for any sounds of muffled sobs or cries of pain. 

He had to find him.

If he was going by the few records he’d seen during his background check on Midoriya and his mom, the kid was a delinquent. Constantly picking fights, failing all his classes, and no close friends except those from online support groups. 

But Shouta had seen those kinds of records before. Nearly every quirkless kid had them. A fact he’d found out after investigating too many suicide cases.

He knew the detention slips were given out by disinterested adults, that the fights were started by pretentious, overpowered bullies looking to assert their dominance. That the grades were lies, a cruel powerplay the teachers wielded to affirm their superiority. 

And like a toxic, infectious disease, the hate spread beyond the walls of the school and far into every quirkless kid's life. They had no refuge. Not really. Every day was a battle against prejudice and hate, people looking for easy outlets for their misplaced anger. And nothing screamed ‘punching bag’ more than a scrawny, anxious kid with bright red shoes. 

Shouta picked up his pace. If his kid was late and wasn’t texting him back, that meant something was preventing him from doing so. 

Rough shouts and rowdy laughter sent him careening towards a small alley behind a game store. He rounded the corner and rapidly assessed the group before him.

Four teenagers stood in a loose circle around two smaller boys, one of whom had gold hair and was trembling, clutching at the boy in front of him who was standing in a defensive position, hands raised in a familiar boxing stance. 

A boy with a familiar freckled face, downturned in a familiar look of fierce determination.

Shouta exhaled sharply. He was okay. 

For the most part. His second look over revealed a split lip and bruised cheek and eye. Shouta’s fear flipped to fury.

How old are these kids? Sixteen? Eighteen? I can never tell. Is it morally wrong to use lethal force on almost adults? 

“He’s still standing Maru, hit him again!”

“Knock him out!”

“Come on Maru, make it hurt. ” 

“Get rid of the broccoli bitch so we can have fun with blondie.”

The jeers made the boy behind Midoriya tremble and shift closer to him, ducking his head into his back. Midoriya didn’t respond to the threats, only steadied his center of gravity and kept his cool gaze on the boy in front of him.

The leader, Maru presumably, bolstered by his friends, stepped towards the two boys with a confident swagger despite an already blackening eye. Shouta flicked his appraisal back to Midoriya and saw his knuckles were bloodied.

Nice job kid. But it’s my turn now.

Shouta didn’t bother announcing his presence. He didn’t want to give any of the brats a chance to run. 

With his quirk activated, he swept in. The first he bound in his scarf, tossing him against the wall with a thud. The second he knocked out with a swift hit to his neck.

By that point, Midoriya had registered who he was and immediately pushed himself and the boy behind him towards the wall, giving Shouta more room to work.

He spared them a glance, double checking that their injuries didn’t require immediate medical attention. Nothing new. But he could now see the torn shirt of the boy still huddled behind Midoriya.

Something thunked against Shouta’s chest. He looked down. The leader, Maru, had taken his moment of distraction to punch him in the ribs. He’d almost felt it.

He turned slowly, his hair and scarf rising as he did, his eyes bleeding red. Maru looked like he might shit himself. 

Shouta didn’t need technique for this. Taking a page from Shirogane’s handbook, he flashed forward and dropped his shoulder, slamming into the kid. He flew back to crack against the side of the alley and slumped to the ground near Midoriya’s feet.

His instincts buzzed and he ducked. Something shot through the air above him and he swiveled to the remaining kid. He was shaking and holding his hand out, a hole in his palm that was slowly filling with some kind of… fluid? It didn’t matter. One look from Shouta and the fluid dropped as his quirk was erased.

“What the..? Who the fuck are you?! Leave me alone! Stop! Leave me alone!” He stumbled away from Shouta and tripped over his feet, sprawling to the ground. Shouta struck. Another jab to the neck and the boy was out. 

He stood over him, scowling down at his pimply face. Definitely still kids. 

“You bastard! Who the fuck are you? How dare you mess with us, do you know who I am? You better walk away or I’ll knife this stupid little shit!”

Still kids. Still kids. Still kids.

The faint mantra was the only thing keeping Shouta from leaping forward and tearing out Maru’s throat with his teeth. 

He had a pocket knife to Midoriya’s pulse. 

The blond kid was on the ground behind them, looking dazed as if he’d been shoved down. Midoriya was being held loosely against the older kid's chest. He was shaking but his chin was raised and he was looking intently at Shouta as if trying to convey a message. 

“Don’t come any closer! I’ll kill him, I swear I will!” Maru sneered threateningly, the knife pressed tight to Midoriya’s throat.

Shouta was fast. He could cross the distance in a heartbeat, break Maru’s wrist to drop the knife and knock out him with a punch. But was he fast enough? His capture scarf was tied up with the first kid and he didn’t have the element of surprise any more. 

He saw Midoriya’s weight shift and realized in a flash the kid was gearing up to do something, no doubt incredibly stupid. Shouta was going to have to rush in and chance it, he couldn’t risk Midoriya getting hurt due to his inexperience-

A crackle of lightning and a thin hand wrapped around Maru’s wrist and yanked it out and back, knocking the teenager off balance and releasing Midoriya. The second he was no longer touching his hostage, he convulsed with a strangled gasp. After a few seconds, he dropped. 

Standing over him, still dazed and shaky but angry enough to overcome it, was the blond boy.

Shouta whistled out a breath, releasing the coiled tension in his legs. “Thanks kid.”

Gold eyes flicked to him and he was about to say something when Midoriya steamrolled over him. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop him from pushing you, he just stood up so fast and I thought he was unconscious but thank you for getting him off me, was that your quirk? You have amazing control! Lightning is notoriously hard to master, the old hero Pulsar could only handle using his for short bursts and even then it left him exhausted-”

“Midoriya.” Shouta cut him off sharply. The kid’s mouth snapped shut and he blinked. His face fell as he realized his audience was a step away from an anxiety attack and had been watching Midoriya with damp eyes.

“I’m sorry!” He squeaked and clapped his hands over his mouth, obviously afraid to start rambling again. Shouta dropped a hand on his shoulder in reassurance and then rifled through his pockets, pulling out two fruit pouches and a water.

“Here, both of you recoup. I need to tie them up and call for an officer.”

He handed them to Midoriya, trusting the kid to get the other one to eat. By the time he was finished, the two pouches were crumpled and the water was halfway gone. They both looked more steady on their feet.

“What happened?” He addressed Midoriya, trying for kind but falling flat. The fear and anger were slow to leave and the memory of Shirogane’s still and bloodied face kept slipping in, only this time with freckles and a halo of green curls.

Both kid’s hunched their shoulders at his tone and the other boy’s hand snuck to Midoriya’s sleeve and tangled in it. He didn’t seem to notice, looking up at Shouta with big earnest eyes.

“I’m sorry sir! I’m sorry I was late! I was on my way when I saw him being harrassed and I had to help!” 

“And you? What’s your name?” Shouta asked and the kid flinched at being addressed.

“Kaminari.” He muttered, tugging at the rips in his shirt to try and cover himself. “I was just walking around when they started coming after me. They didn’t get… far when he stepped in.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” Thankfully that at least came out sincere. “You’ll need to make a statement to the police when they arrive, alright? You too Midoriya.”

Twin nods. The Kaminari kid still looked dazed but Midoriya appeared fine. As if being threatened wasn’t something to make a big deal about. Which Shouta would absolutely address at a later date but for now he would settle with drilling a sense of self preservation into his kids skull.

He stood up to his full height and glared down at Midoriya who blanched and rocked back on his heels, hands flapping at his sides.

“Explain.” 

“I-I already told you!”

“Not good enough. What. Happened.” 

“He needed help!” The kid said as if that explained everything. As if it absolved him of his stupidity.

“Yes, he did. And what help were you going to be, one middle schooler against four teenagers with bad intentions?”

“I held my own!” He stomped defiantly, stubbornness set in his jaw and eyes. The bruised cheeks and bloodied lips did little to support his statement, no matter how much he apparently believed it. 

“Only because they were toying with you. What’s the second rule of hero work?”

“That doesn’t matter! I had to do something!”

“It does matter! They were going to beat the shit out of you. They could have killed you!” Shouta shouted. 

“But they didn’t!” Midoriya cried. “I-I-I knew you were waiting for me, I knew you’d come and find me if I didn’t show. I was just stalling for time!” He said the last bit excitedly, as if he’d found the argument that would appease Shouta. It did not.

“No you didn’t.” He seethed. “You’re smart Midoriya, I know you are! Why didn’t you come get me, hell, why didn’t you call me?! You were two blocks away from me, I would have been here in seconds.”

Midoriya made to respond but stopped, his jaw sagging slightly before snapping shut in a look of embarrassed horror.

“...oh.”

Shouta had to close his eyes and take a deep breath. Or two.

When he opened them, Midoriya was fidgeting with his shirt, looking like he was warring between shame and defiance, still convinced he was in the right but knowing he’d messed up. After another red laced glare from Shouta, he deflated.

“I’m sorry Eraserhead, sir. I didn’t think, I heard a cry for help and my body just… moved on its own.”

“And?”

“And next time I will do a better job of assessing the situation to determine an appropriate strategy before rushing in.” He intoned, scuffing a shoe against the ground.

“And?”

“...and, um… and I will…” He fumbled, unsure of what Shouta was after this time. He uncrossed his arms and dropped into a squat before both boys.

“And call me.” He pleaded gruffly. “I will always answer for you Midoriya and I’m here to help. No matter what.”

The kid gulped and stared at him, as if waiting for the joke but Shouta remained quiet. Let him see the truth of it on his face. Finally a nod and the kid’s eyes skittered away, suspiciously wet.

Shouta rose and faced the other kid, Kaminari, who’d been watching their exchange with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?”

The kid jolted at being addressed but collected himself quickly, sending him two weak finger guns. Shouta noticed he had a black slash in his hair on one side that looked like a lightning bolt.

“I’m great! He got the worst of it, they were just getting handsy with me. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before!” His laugh was high and wobbly.

And wasn’t that just damn concerning. Beyond the rips, the kids' clothing was clean and looked new and he had enough bracelets, necklaces, and earrings to jingle when he moved. There weren’t any hidden bandages on him like Shouta could see sneaking out from Midoriya’s cuffs and collar. He was thin but more in the lanky way boys get while going through a growth spurt. 

Nothing about him screamed unsafe, but Shouta knew better than to trust the mask people put on for others.

“Right.” He said tiredly. “Well, just as a precaution, you’ll come with us to UA to get checked out by Recovery Girl after we talk to the police.”

“What? No, no, no, no, that’s okay! I can just go, I know my way home from here-” The kid pointed to the mouth of the alley and started moving towards it but Shouta blocked his way with an arm.

“Not a chance. Standard protocol after an attack is to be evaluated by a medical professional.”

“But-” 

“And we were going there anyway. If you give me your guardian’s phone number, I can call and tell them the situation and have them meet us there.”

At that, Kaminari’s eyes widened in… fear? before falling back into a forced casualness.

“No, no, that’s fine. They’re working late? Yeah. And they don’t answer their phones. I’ll just come with you guys to UA. It’s fine.”

The fear and obvious lies did little to make Shouta feel better about this kid's home life. All the more reason to have him stick with them and have Recovery Girl check him over.

“Kid, you’ve just been assaulted,” he said, as gently as he could. “Are you sure I can’t call someone for you? Anyone at all?”

He twitched and fidgeted with his bracelets, hesitating. “I guess… I can text someone.”

“Please do. And if you’d like, Midoriya,” he looked to his mentee who perked up at being addressed. “Do you have a change of clothes in your bag? Kaminari could use a new shirt.” 

During normal training days, the kid always had a fresh outfit to change into after their workout, saying he hated the feeling of sweat drenched clothes against his skin. He wasn’t sure he’d have them this time since they weren’t training but to his relief Midoriya nodded quickly and thrust out his tattered yellow backpack. 

“Of course! They aren’t really good- I mean they are! They’re clean I swear, I just meant they are old and nothing as fashionable as what you have on.” Midoriya mumbled, his face red in embarrassment but Kaminari tentatively opened the bag and took the bundle of fabric at the top.

“It’s okay. Thank you. Um, I’ll just um, change over here?” Kaminari stepped awkwardly towards the side of a garbage bin, clearly uncomfortable with changing in their presence. If the black spandex tank top he had on under his shirt was what Shouta thought it was, he didn’t blame him.

But that spot still didn’t provide a lot of cover and Shouta didn’t want the kid to feel more exposed than he already was. So he opened the garbage bin and rifled through it before finding a tattered old blanket and tossing it to Midoriya. 

“Hold this up for him, kid. I’ll be over here.” He stepped to the mouth of the alley, and stood by the bundle of teens he had at his feet, assuring curious passersbys that he was a hero and not a homeless person collecting bodies. The two boys joined him after a moment, Kaminari now clad in a wrinkled white shirt that said “sweater” across the front.

The officers arrived and Shouta flashed his hero ID and gave his statement of what happened. He stood by the kids as they followed suit and before long the teenagers were being taken away, Shouta having memorized the case number, and they were on their way to UA.

Maybe after they finish up with Ringleader, Hizashi could visit the teens and give them a stern talking to. As a treat. 

It only took five steps for Shouta to feel like a mother duck with two little chicks trailing behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Midoriya playing with his hands and muttering to himself as he walked in a slouch. Kaminari was a step behind him, also folded in on himself, squirming in the wrinkly shirt he’d been given and plucking at his bracelets.

Where was Hizashi when you needed him?

He stopped walking and the two boys bounced off his back. Without looking at them, he gestured them forward and they tentatively stepped in front of him.

“Midoriya,” the kid tensed, no doubt expecting further beratement. Shouta sighed. He didn’t want to endorse reckless bravery but he also didn't want to crush Midoriya’s spirit. It was a rare thing to find someone so willing to step in and help, especially when the odds were stacked against them. 

“Good job.” The kid startled but quickly beamed up at him. Internally Shouta winced, certain he'd just undone all his admonishment from earlier. 

Thank any and all gods that Shirogane hadn’t been the one to train Midoriya. Their combined recklessness and disregard for their own wellbeing would have sent themselves, and Shouta, into an early grave.

He addressed the other boy.

“Kaminari. Don't think I didn't want you to be saved. Ideally neither of you would have been in that position. But I'm glad Midoriya was there for you. And well done taking down the leader."

“Huh? Oh, sure, sure, no problem. Couldn't let him hurt my hero after all!”

“Oh no! Those guys were not on Eraserheads level at all, he was in no danger of being hurt!” Midoriya declared and Kaminari snickered, losing the tension across his shoulders.

“I meant you green bean.” He teased, nudging Midoriya with his elbow. Midoriya startled and turned an alarming shade of red much to Kaminari's delight. 

Their mood lightened, Shouta started walking again and the boys kept pace with him, Kaminari teasing Midoriya and Midoriya trying and failing to fight back.

Eventually Shouta took pity on him and asked Midoriya for his assessment of the teenager's quirks and his strategy. It brought the kid back from the verge of combustion and he rapidly dove into a breakdown of the quirks and the fight.

Shouta hummed along, pointing out spots where Midoriya's assumptions or thought processes were tenuous and prompting him towards more realistic responses. 

Kaminari soon joined in, picking up what Shouta was doing and seemingly fascinated with the quickness of Midoriya's mind and thoughts. He asked thoughtful questions that provoked rambling answers and gently interrupted him to bring him back on topic when needed. 

They became so enthralled with their discussion that they didn’t notice Shouta dropping back a step to give them space to converse more easily. Nor did they notice when he ushered them through the UA gate or when they entered the infirmary.

They might’ve talked until they ran out of air if not for the whip of Shirogane’s voice cracking across the room.

“Denki Kaminari. What exactly are you doing here?”

He was sitting up in his bed, framed by the dozens of flower vases their coworkers had given him and the piles of cards from the students. Tensei and Snipe were sitting on either side of his bed and they all had playing cards in their hand, in the middle of a game of whist.

They had all turned to look when they’d entered and the disapproval on Shirogane’s face was strong enough that the hair on the back of Shouta’s neck stood up.

Kaminari blanched. Then bolted.

Or at least he tried. The second he had spun on his heels for the door, Shirogane flicked his eyes to Shouta and taking the hint, he blocked the doorway. He had no idea how they knew each other but he felt confident in the fact that Shirogane wouldn’t hurt a child.

Unless… was this who Kaminari was afraid of?

“Traitor!” Kaminari hissed at him and tried to dodge and weave his way past him. When nothing worked he slumped and slowly faced Shirogane whose lips were pursed and eyebrows raised as he watched it all over his glasses.

Seeing Kaminari’s defeat, he mutely pointed at the space next to him and the boy silently shuffled over.

Tensei and Snipe scrambled to make room, leaving the cards in a scattered pile as they went to hover against the far wall. They were no strangers to parental disappointment after being friends with Naomasa and Nemuri for so long and wanted no chance of being caught up in it.

Kaminari reached Shirogane’s bedside but didn’t speak. He was busy twisting his bracelets, his head on a swivel as he looked everywhere but at Shirogane who was watching him with cool displeasure. 

“Well?”

Small shoulders rose to red tinged ears. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I was just getting so restless and then DB said our mochi gym, the one by the comic bookstore? was under fire by a bunch of Mystics so I had to go! But then a Zapdos showed up! I couldn’t not chase it down! And then I realized I was so close to hatching my red eggs! You know the ones I got aaaages ago? I got really excited and kept walking and then, and then… and then…”

“And then what?”

Kaminari ducked his head and didn’t say anything.

“Answer me when I ask you a question, young man.”

His answer was a mumble that Shouta couldn’t make out from his position at the door but Shirogane obviously heard him as his disappointment dropped into a look of horror.

“What?” He asked sharply and took the boy’s face in his hands, frantically inspecting him for injury. 

“I’m fine, I’m okay.” Kaminari assured him, patting at the hands cupping his face. “Midoriya saved me. And then that guy,” he gestured over his shoulder to Shouta. “Showed up and took them all down.”

Shirogane never looked away from the kid, his expression of such deep concern and worry that Shouta knew he wasn’t the one Kaminari was afraid of. Whatever their relationship was, it was obvious that Shirogane cared deeply for him. And that Kaminari trusted him.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you. That must have been terrifying, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to help.”

Kaminari’s arm twitched and Shirogane opened his arms as if in response. They fell together in a tight hug, golden head tucked safely into Shirogane’s shoulder. Thin shoulder’s hitched and Shirogane ran a hand down his back in a soothing pattern, whispering what Shouta assumed were words of comfort in his ear. 

After a few minutes, Kaminari gathered himself enough to wiggle his way onto the bed, wedging himself against Shirogane’s side. He allowed it easily, putting a comforting arm around his shoulders and pulling him in.

Is this kid a part of the family he refuses to tell us about?

They bore no resemblance to each other. The kid was bright blonde and pale with sharp features and a restless energy. A stark contrast to Shirogane’s dark honey complexion, roman features, and stillwater calmness. 

But he folded into Shirogane’s side with an ease and comfort that spoke of years long familiarity. 

Once Kaminari settled, Shirogane turned his attention back to the rest of the room. He ignored the two men still plastered to the far wall and settled on Midoriya who’d been standing stiffly next to Shouta the whole time.

“Thank you, Midoriya, for saving Denki. I cannot thank you enough. Are you alright?” He said, waving him forward so he could see him better. Midoriya unfroze and shot across the room to stand at the foot of his bed. No longer needed to guard the door, Shouta followed him at a more leisurely pace.

“I-I’m fi-fine! Really, it’s noth-nothing.” Green curls bounced as he aggressively waved his hands before him. “Just hap-happy to help.”

“You should’ve seen him KB! He jumped right in swinging! He gave the oldest one a black eye! It was so cool!” Kaminari praised, much to Midoriya’s embarrassment. He turned bright red and his eyes locked on the floor as he twisted and untwisted his fingers together.

Shirogane tsked. “It might’ve been cool but he still got hurt. And what were you doing while your mentee was being attacked? Napping on a roof?” He shot out, turning accusing eyes on Shouta.

“Probably distracted by a cat.” Tensei suggested, peeling himself off the wall to rejoin the conversation.

“Or scouring a corner store for another godawful flavor combination.” Snipe followed, his laughter muffled by his mask.

“Ha ha.” Shouta rolled his eyes, not willing to admit that Tensei was right. “It just took me a while to find them.”

Shirogane hmphed but let it go, focusing back on cataloguing Midoriya’s battered face.  

“So this is the kid you’re training?” Snipe asked, diverting the conversation.

“You poor thing!” Tensei cried, falling to his knees before Midoriya. It was weird enough to break the kid from his stare down with the floor and round green eyes peeked out from behind his bangs.

Tensei dropped into a dramatic whisper. “It’s going to be okay, I can get you out of here. If you’re being held hostage, blink twice-”

“Alright enough.” Shouta lovingly kicked his shoulder and he fell to the ground with a laugh. 

“”No-no Eraserhead has been nothing but helpful! If anything I’m the one holding him hostage by making him train me!” Midoriya assured frantically. 

“He’s just teasing kid.” 

“O-Oh.”

“Yeah, he’s as grumpy as a wet cat all the time but he means well and is sometimes nice.” Tensei agreed from the floor. Snipe bent down and hoisted him up, their hands lingering in each others for longer than necessary. 

“A glowing review.” Shouta said dryly.

“ You’re Eraserhead?” Kaminari asked in disbelief. 

“So I’ve been told.” 

How did the kid know who he was? Midoriya knowing he understood. They had gotten to know each other during insomnia fueled nights. But he’d never seen this kid before, night or day. 

Gold eyes looked him up and down critically before turning to Shirogane and whispering loudly in his ear. “You can do better.”

Shirogane slapped a hand over Kaminari’s mouth and tilted his own head back, eyes dropping closed in exasperation while Tensei roared in laughter. Shouta didn’t know what that was about but he knew enough to be mildly offended, especially when he heard Midoriya’s soft giggles join in.

“The visitor limit is a rule for a reason, I expected heroes to know better.” Recovery Girl admonished as she entered. 

“Oh come on RG! Shirogane’s pretty much recovered and there’s no one else here!” Tensei whined. She menacingly tapped her pen on her clipboard and he paled, ducking behind Snipe.

“You did say you would discharge me tomorrow morning, surely a few more guests tonight won’t overexert me?” Shirogane pointed out.

Recovery Girl frowned and didn’t give an answer outright as she shooed them away from the bed so she could collect Shirogane’s vitals. Kaminari hopped down and moved next to Midoriya where they dropped into rapid whispers, their eyes darting back and forth between the heroes.

“So soon?” Shouta asked, surprised. 

He was hardly a medical professional but he knew how long a stab wound in the back took to heal, and that had only slightly nicked his kidney and intestines. Shirogane’s lungs and part of his heart had been sliced open. It seemed way too soon for him to have recovered enough for discharge. 

Before she answered, Recovery Girl looked to Shirogane and he gave a careless shrug. 

“He stopped needing Saeki to fuse his lungs and heart last night. His lungs are clear of blood and fluids and his heart is operating normally. There’s no reason to keep him as long as he promises to take it easy and inform me the second anything changes.” The last bit was said threateningly to Shirogane.

“Yes, yes. I will.” He brushed off her jabbing finger. She humphed. 

“RG, while you’re here, could you take a look at these two.” Shouta asked, jabbing a thumb at the two boys. 

“Bringing in strays Aizawa? I will just this once but you know I don’t normally treat those unaffiliated with UA.”

She waved them onto the second bed and they hopped up, legs swinging over the edge.

“Midoriya’s close enough. He’ll be joining our ranks soon.” Shouta said.

Shirogane spoke up as well. “Denki too. He’ll be a student here in no time.”

Both boys ducked their heads at the praise and Recovery Girl had to snap at them to straighten up so she could assess their injuries.

Kaminari was given a pass fairly quickly but he stayed on the bed as Recovery Girl moved on to Midoriya. She was gentle as she cleaned his face and knuckles, applying only a few bandages and saying the rest were superficial enough to leave open.

“Any other injuries I should know about?” She asked.

“N-nope! Noth-nothing else!” He stammered out, fidgeting with the cuffs on his shirt.

“Okay then. I’m not going to use my quirk on you dearie else you’ll be asleep for the rest of your visit and I don’t think you’d want that. Am I right?”

“Ye-yes! Thank-thank you Recovery Girl!” His star struck eyes seemed to appease her enough that she turned to the rest of them with a small smile.

“You can stay. As long as you keep it down and leave before eight. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am!” They all chorused and she strode out, clacking as she went.

“Whew! How is she so terrifying?” Tensei collapsed onto his stomach on Shirogane’s bed, disturbing the cards that were still littered across it. Snipe followed, reclaimed the chair he’d previously vacated.

“She’s been friends with Principal Nedzu for too long.” He suggested.

“She was born like that and has only gotten crankier with age.” Shouta offered.

“Ac-actually, it’s statistically proven tha-that heroes are the most stress inducing patients for doctors and nurses. Working at UA which is full of hero hopefuls and hero teachers, she’s probably dealt with years of patients disregarding her advice and causing further injury to themselves and so is preemptively harsh with those she suspects have little regard for their own safety.”

They were all staring at Midoriya by the end of his ramble, each in varying states of amusement.

“Wait, are you saying we’re the problem?” Snipe mused, grin evident in his tone even if they couldn’t see his face.

“No!” Tensei gasped. “It couldn’t be us, could it? Are we the problem?”

“Ah! No-no-no, I didn’t mean- that is, it’s just an average statistic from all the hospitals around the nation! I didn’t mean to imply that you all are-”

“It’s fine kid.” Shouta interrupted before Midoriya could talk himself into a faint. “You nailed it on the head actually.”

“Speak for yourself.” Tensei sniffed. Shouta ignored him and focused on wide green eyes.

“Which is why rule number two is so important. If you respect your own physical limitations and seek help when needed, you won’t cause undue stress for medical professionals who are also just trying to do their jobs.” 

The notebook materialized and the kid frantically scribbled down everything he said, Kaminari leaning over his shoulder to read along. 

“You also listen to medical professionals, got it? It’s their job to keep you alive and they know best how to do so.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Sho.” 

Shouta shoved Tensei’s face into the bed, bending a few cards as he did. “Don’t listen to him. I’ve always seen a doctor when it was serious enough.”

“Yeah but did you stay long enough-” 

“Stop it.” He growled, shoving and keeping Tensei’s face pressed to the bed. He flailed at Shouta’s arms, smacking him with muffled shouts. He turned to Midoriya who was watching with his token look of wary confusion he got whenever he witnessed Shouta’s friends.

“Got all that? Minus his bit.” He pushed at Tensei’s head one more time before releasing him.

“Y-yes.”

Shouta caught Shirogane watching him. He had that fond look he got whenever he listened to Hizashi passionately rant about his latest obsession. Shouta’s stomach flipped.

“I still think you could do better.” Kaminari spoke up, still lounging on Midoriya but looking at Shirogane with a smirk. Brown eyes snapped away from Shouta to the boy.

“Thank you for the reminder Denki. I still need to figure out how many days to add to your grounding.”

“Ack! No!” He pleaded, slipping from the bed and dropping onto Shirogane’s with his arms clasped in a prayer before him. “Please please please, I’m getting so bored being trapped in the house!”

“You can’t play with explosives in the house and break the rules of your subsequent grounding without repercussions young man.”

“But mooooooooooom!”

Well. That would explain a lot. 

Crash!  

Hizashi had arrived. He stood frozen in the doorway, his jaw and the potted flower’s he’d brought both on the floor.

“YOU HAVE A KID?!” He screeched. 

“No I-”

Kaminari sprang up and faced Hizashi, gesturing behind him to Shirogane. “Yes, this is my mom.”

“Denki, please don’t-” Big golden eyes swept to Shirogane and the kid gasped, clutching at his heart.

“Wooooow, you haven’t told your coworkers about me?” He shook his head sadly. “I thought we moved past this but you’re still ashamed of me.” 

Shirogane pinched his nose. “Denki Kaminari you-”

“You said you loved me mom! Was it all a lie?” Kaminari wailed, flinging himself across Shirogane’s legs and sobbing loudly. Tensei hastily picked himself up to make space and tripped in his hurry, landing on Snipe’s lap and sending playing cards flying.

Snipe quickly tucked his arm around Tensei’s waist to steady him and hooked his jaw over his shoulder to mutter in his ear. “Shit, have we been using the wrong pronouns?” 

Tensei managed a weak shrug but he looked too busy not breathing to really consider the question.

Midoriya tugged on Shouta’s sleeve. “Eraserhead sir, is Kaminari really his- um, her? um, their son?”

“YOU HAVE A KID?!” Hizashi yelled again, still not over his shock. 

“Oh, for the love of- Enough!” Shirogane shouted over the commotion. Everyone stopped. Even the wails from Kaminari quieted and he popped up, his face bone dry and an impish smile on his face.

“Thank you.” Shirogane said in exasperation. “Kaminari is not mine biologically. I cook for him and a few other kids and they grew attached and love to tease.” He batted him on the head but Kaminari looked unrepentant.

“Oh my goooooood, my heart!” Hizashi whined, leaning against the doorway and clutching at his chest. 

“It’s not that shocking, is it?” Snipe asked.

“It’s not, Zashi’s just dramatic as hell.” Tensei answered, having recovered in record time and looking all too pleased with himself as he got comfortable on Snipe’s lap. Shouta snuck a photo and sent it to Nem.

“It is shocking! Oh my god I thought I was about to be a dad! Oh my god my heart. I’m not ready to have a kid! I’m too young and good looking for a dad bod! Imagine! I’d have to get rid of over half my wardrobe! Have you ever seen a dad wear crop tops or booty shorts? No! Oh god… I’d have to get rid of all my mesh shirts! I can’t do that!”

“What…” Snipe whispered, confused.

“Leave it.” Shouta advised. 

“Is that Present Mic?” He heard Kaminari ask Shirogane. 

“It is.”

“Hm. Okay, I approve of him- wait! Ow! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!”

Shouta glanced over to see Shirogane gripping Kaminari’s ear tightly. 

“You’re about to be grounded for another month.”

“Noooo, I’m sorry!” 

“I specifically said to keep it down! What’s all this mess?! Yamada! Was this you?” Recovery Girl had returned, looking furious. 

There was a clatter and Shouta turned to see Tensei and Snipe escaping out the window, cards scattering in their wake. 

“I’ll clean it up! I’ll clean it up right now, where do you keep your brooms? Actually, you know what, I’ll find them myself, I got it, no worries!” Hizashi sprinted out of the room, dodging her cane as he went. 

She glared after him before turning her ire towards those who were left. The two boys clung to each other but Shouta stood resolute. He hadn’t been the one causing a fuss. 

“After Yamada cleans up his mess I want you all out. Got it?”

She left before they could answer, muttering up a storm about problem patients and their irritating visitors. 

“Definitely born that way.” Shouta muttered. He picked up the chair the two cowards had knocked over in their haste to flee and made himself comfortable.

“I’m thirsty.” Shirogane suddenly announced. “Denki, would you be so kind as to grab me a drink from the cafeteria? Take Midoriya with you.”

“Sure thing, moooom. ” Kaminari winked and finger gunned at them both as he walked backwards out of the room. Midoriya followed along with a grin. 

Shouta raised an eyebrow at Shirogane, unimpressed by the unsubtle way he got them alone. Shirogane rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I know. But it worked, didn’t it?”

“There’s a vending machine just down the hall.” Shouta pointed out.

“I am aware.”

“Too good for canned drinks?”

“Never. But a smart proposal presentation saves time for negotiation.”

“You’re about to ask me something I won’t like.”

“I believe so.”

“Wonderful.” Shouta sank back into his seat and got comfortable before gesturing for Shirogane to speak. “Let’s hear it.”

“Would you be willing to train Kaminari alongside Midoriya?” Shirogane asked bluntly. 

Ah. 

Truthfully, he’d been half expecting to be told to train Kaminari the second Shirogane had mentioned he wanted to be a hero, assuming it was the kid he'd mentioned ages ago. But he asked this time.

Shouta dropped his chin into his capture scarf to think it over. If Kaminari was close with Shirogane, he shouldn’t have any issues training alongside someone who was quirkless. And they already seemed thick as thieves anyway so compatibility wouldn’t be a problem.

And the kid had potential. Even after being sexually harassed and knocked around, Kaminari had found the courage to act when his friend had been in danger.

Shirogane had continued talking while Shouta was mulling it over. “-and he’s a good kid. He desperately wants to be a hero but his lack of self confidence is holding him back. If he had a good mentor to train him and encourage him, I’m sure he’d be able to break out of the box he’s put himself in and become a great hero. And-”

“Fine.”

“And I can attest… Wait, really?”

Shouta shrugged. “The boys are already friends and one more won’t be difficult to manage.”

“Oh.” Shirogane looked confused and a little unmoored. “Well, okay then. Thank you.”

“If you still want to do your whole speech we have about fifteen minutes before they return.” Shouta offered and Shirogane chuckled. 

“I should, it was a good one. I rehearsed it a lot.”

“Does it include a powerpoint?”

“Shoot, I knew I was missing something. Don’t tell Yamada or he’ll kick me out of the club.”

“Don’t tell me what?” His husband had returned, juggling three different brooms and dustpans for some reason.

“You know you only have two hands, right Zash?”

“You know you could come over and help me with this, right Sho?”

Shouta snorted and remained firmly in his seat. “It’s not my mess.”

Hizashi grumbled but dutifully swept up the dirt and shattered ceramic. He plucked at the forlorn looking flowers and presented them to Shirogane who accepted them graciously, sniffing them before setting them down in his lap. 

“What happened to the kiddos?” Hizashi asked, plopping onto the end of the bed and kicking his feet up to be near Shirogane’s hip.

“Getting lost in UA no doubt. I’m sure someone will find them and send them back.”

“Okay then. So what aren’t you telling me?”

“Aizawa accepted my proposition before I could finish my speech. Which is all well and good because I didn’t have a powerpoint to go with it.”

“Ooooooh? A proposition?” Hizashi waggled his eyebrows. 

“Not like that.” Shouta scolded. “Kaminari is going to be joining Midoriya for training.”

“Oh. Kaminari is the blond one pretending to be your son?” 

“Yes.”

“Little shit.” Hizashi said with glee. “He about gave me a heart attack. I like him, he’s funny. He’s going to drive Shouta insane.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Good thing I have a surefire defense against attitude.”

“You can't expel them Sho, they aren't your students.” Hizashi countered as he began to round up the thoroughly abused cards from around the bed and the floor.

“I meant suicide sprints.”

They both chuckled at that. Having gathered all the cards he could find, Hizashi shuffled the sad looking deck and dealt, declaring that they were playing Go Fish.

They went a few hands and Shouta was slowly becoming convinced that they were either definitely missing a few cards or that someone was cheating, when Shirogane spoke up.

“You've noticed Midoriya's injuries, right Aizawa?”

He knew he wasn’t talking about the bruises from the fight.

Technically, Shouta couldn’t be mad that the kid didn’t tell him about his new hidden injuries. They’d been treated, as evident by the slips of gauze bandages he’d seen when his sleeves shifted. And they weren’t training today. So technically the kid didn’t have to inform him. 

But technically didn’t make Shouta feel any better. All it meant was that Midoriya was smart enough to bend the rules and that he still didn’t trust him with the truth. 

“I have. Got any fours?” 

“No, go fish. Any thoughts on who?”

Shouta took a card from the center. “Not his mom. He was fine all summer but he’s been back to school for two days and already has an injury. It’s someone from there. Someone with a fire based quirk.”

“Got any sevens?” Hizashi asked Shirogane and happily took the card offered to him. “If it’s happening at school it should be easy enough to figure out who it is. We can narrow down the fire quirks based on the school records and cross reference it with footage of who interacts with Midoriya the most.”

“Not everyone has such an extensive surveillance system as Nedzu.” Shirogane pointed out. “Got any queens Yamada?”

“Honey I am a queen! But also no, go fish.”

“Shirogane’s right, Aldera has shitty records, both video and paper. It’s been slow going collecting evidence. And as much as I’d like too, I can’t interrogate kids without reason.”

Hizashi hummed thoughtfully. “Have you asked Midoriya about it? A character witness would give you all the reason you need.” 

“I haven’t. I don’t want to scare him off. Or get him involved. It could get worse for him if they believe he’s the cause of any police action. Any fives Shirogane?” 

“Here.” He stuck his card out but kept his grip on it when Shouta went to grab it. Shouta looked up to see Shirogane’s stern face locked onto him. “So you’re going to let Midoriya suffer because you don’t have conclusive evidence yet? Now why does that sound familiar?”

“An entire corrupt school is different from one stupid man.”

“Maybe. For a coward.”

Shouta twitched, the card warping as his hand tensed. He glared into unwavering brown eyes.

“Excuse me?” 

“Still running from a fight Aizawa?” 

“Proceeding with caution isn’t running. The last time I rushed, my friend almost died.”

They stared each other down over the card. 

Shouta wouldn’t let Shirogane goad him. He knew the situation Midoriya was in. And he knew Midoriya. He was too smart. If Shouta tried underhanded methods like they’d done with Ringleader, the kid would catch on just as quickly as Shirogane had. 

It’d ruin whatever small bit of trust he’d gained from the kid. He’d become just another adult that trampled on his choices and autonomy, presuming to know what was best for him. He’d much rather build a case and be ready. Waiting for the moment Midoriya opened up to him and asked for help. Only then could he bring the full weight of his justice down on them. 

“Shall we work together then?” 

Shouta narrowed his eyes at the relaxed air Shirogane had adopted. “Work together to do what?”

“To investigate Aldera of course. What else would I be referring to?”

“Hmph. All above board. For real this time.”

“Deal.”

They shook their hands, the card crumpled between them. Hizashi slowly whistled. 

“That was cute and all but Midoriya is still going to suffer, especially since school has restarted. There’s nothing at all we’re going to do about that? Got any tens Sho?”

He handed over his ten. “If we’re doing it above board, all we can do is make sure Midoriya knows he can come to us. That we’ll protect him and that he can trust us.”

“A tall order for the kiddo.” 

“I know. But I’ll be seeing him frequently enough that I’ll notice if it gets worse.”

“Any two’s Yamada? Kaminari will help too. Not on purpose, but I can tell they’re going to be friends. Having someone the same age as you who’s been through something similar can go a long way.”

“I had been wondering.” Shouta said. Kaminari’s fear had been about being caught out while grounded but his flippant attitude regarding the assault was still worrying.

“Yes. It’s not my story to tell but I can say that Denki is in a much safer and healthier environment now and those who hurt him are behind bars.”

“Good!” Hizashi said fiercely, slamming down a matching pair before scrunching his nose and turning to Shouta.  

“Wait… didn’t Midoriya also mention a friend he wanted to bring?”

“Damnit.” Shouta swore, dragging a hand down his face. He’d forgotten about that. Hizashi patted his shoulder.

“There, there. It’ll be okay. Three teenage boys should be a breeze, right?”

“What if we helped?”

Shouta looked over to Shirogane, taken aback by his second out of the blue offer.

“Oooooooh that sounds like fun! Three of them, three of us, it’s perfect!"

“Are you sure?” Shouta asked. “Would you have time in your schedule for that Shirogane?”

“I would not have offered if I couldn’t make time. Not to dismiss all your efforts so far, but if all three of us train them, they will receive a more thorough education. We all have different strengths to share.”

Shouta hesitated. He knew it made sense. He could train them on the basics of being a pro hero and help establish a firm cornerstone on which to build their career. But after that? All he knew was underground heroics. And the chances of all three of the kids wanting to follow that path was highly unlikely. 

But if they were trained by not only him, but by a thriving, flamboyant limelight hero and radio personality and a quirkless lawyer who could dent solid steel fridges with a pipe… Anything was possible.

He’d just have to ensure Shirogane was never alone with them.

“Alright. Fine.”

“YeeeeeeeaaaaaAAAAAAHHH!”

“Zash! You’re going to piss off RG!”

“Oops! Sorry sorry. Who’s turn is it again?”

“Does it matter? Shirogane’s stealing all the cards.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about Aizawa.”

“No? Shake out your sleeves then.”

“I will not.”

“You’re cheating?? It’s Go Fish my guy, it’s not that serious.”

“I am not cheating and I resent the insinuation against my character.”

“Roll up your sleeves then.”

“I will not.”

They bickered, the card game long forgotten by the time Midoriya and Kaminari were led back in by a bemused Vlad King. He had to shake them off, both of them asking him a million questions per minute. Eventually he was able to leave by bribing them with his autograph.

They hadn’t gotten Shirogane his drink but neither him nor Shouta made mention of it, letting the boys talk over each other as they described all the cool rooms they saw and the amazing hero teachers they ran into.

They managed to sneak through another half hour of visiting before Recovery Girl returned to kick them out. Shirogane made sure to ruffle both kids' heads in goodbye and Hizashi promised that he and Shouta would be back early tomorrow morning before he was discharged.

It was anything but a quiet walk out of UA as both boys chattered constantly back and forth. He and Zashi let them, content to watch their friendship take root as they shyly traded phone numbers and promised to show up on time the next day for their training before walking off in opposite directions with many waves goodbye before they finally disappeared into the crowds.

“Alone at last.” Hizashi murmured in his ear. Shouta nudged him away with an eye roll. They were still in their hero outfits and already Hizashi was drawing excited looks. Taking the hint, Zashi stretched out wide and clasped his hands behind his head as they started walking home.

“Cute kids right? I’m so curious about Midoriya’s other friend though. Do you think it’ll be another analytical, excitable little puppy like he is? Or someone entirely different, like opposites attract and all that.”

Shouta hummed noncomittedly. “Who knows. As long as they’re not an idiot I don’t care.”

“Noooooo come on, wanna make a bet? I think his friend is going to be moody and broody, just like you.”

“Why?”

“Becauuuuuuuse.” Hizashi drawled like he was an idiot. “I said so.”

“Remember what happened last time you made a bet in bad faith?”

Zashi gasped and swiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “The last white chocolate raspberry muffin. How could I forget? It was sooo traumatizing Sho, why would you bring that up?”

“To keep you from repeating your mistakes. But if you want to lose again, that’s your decision.”

“It is, thank you for noticing. Now what’s the wager?” 

“Loser is the hostage during the first years simulation next week.”

“You’re on!” They shook on it. 

Three deals in one day. That had to be a new record for him. They walked a few steps without speaking, Zashi no doubt already drawn into assessing the people surrounding them. But Shouta felt light, the heavy weight of dread he’d been carrying since yesterday morning finally disappating and he couldn’t help but tease his husband.  

“So. Do you want to talk about how you assumed any kid of Shirogane’s would also be yours?”

Zashi tripped. He righted himself and glared at Shouta. “Nope! I absolutely do not!”

“Are you sure? You seemed really worried about it.”

“Lalalalalalalala I can’t heeeeear youuuuuuu.”

“If it helps, I wouldn’t divorce you if you started wearing socks with sandals and had a dad bod.”

“How kind-” 

“But we could not be seen together in public.”

“Do you want to be deaf by forty cuz I can make that happen.” Hizashi threatened and Shouta dodged his grasping hand and sprinted away. “Hey! Where are you going? Why are you running? Get back here!”

Shouta smirked and dove for the roofs, launching himself into the hazy sky as Hizashi shouted after him. He was lounging in his blue armchair, Brick a puddle in his lap, by the time Zashi slammed through the door, panting and glaring as he peeled out of his combat boots and leather jacket.

“You really need to speak to Mashiro about your summer wardrobe.” Shouta mused. 

Hizashi merely offered him a middle finger as he marched to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. 

“I should probably make dinner for him, shouldn’t I Brick?” He asked and got a deep purr in response. “You’re right. Better not push him too far or else I’ll get salted coffee for a month.”

With a kiss to his furred head, Shouta shifted himself out from under Brick, leaving the orange cat behind to sprawl and nap to his heart's content.

The appearance of a hot meal after his shower did mollify Zashi enough to earn him a kiss and a lingering hug before Shouta left for patrol.

“Remember, I’m picking up Phosphoculus’s shift so I won’t be coming home in the morning. I’ll meet you at RG’s suite.”

“Yeah yeaaaaaah…” Hizashi yawned. “Be safe, kick butt, don’t die, yadda yadda yadda.”

“Thanks, love you too.” Shouta said dryly before giving him a final peck on the cheek.

“Love you kitten. Byeeeeeeee.” 

Shouta left, dodging a butt slap on the way out. It was probably ill advised to have such a long night of patrol after everything that had happened and Shouta would need a few or ten cups of coffee to get through work tomorrow. But he needed it. 

A return to routine. Having something to punch. Villians to take down. Civilians to protect.

He ran and lept between buildings, swinging up into the velvet sky and sinking into muffled alleyways. The night was cooling nicely, the darkness soothing and soft. A peace he hadn’t felt since Shirogane had told them of his research slipped in with his breaths and sank along his spine, pooling in his stomach.

It was going to be okay. 

The students were safe now. Shirogane had survived. Together they were going to protect Midoriya. 

The scatteredness of his mind settled. No more half attention, running through scenarios and mentally shifting pawns while on patrol. He was back with a clear head, returning to the comfort of empty skies and the city at his feet.

It was going to be okay.

The heady thrum of contentment remained throughout the course of his long patrol. It was there as he cuffed would-be muggers and escorted late night office workers to train stations. It kept him lazer focused during fights, knocking knives out of hands and dodging quirked blows without so much as a scratch. 

It filled the moments in between, when he crouched on rooftops and eyed the dark streets below or when he stopped to catch his breath among the clouds and scarf down some food. 

Before he knew it, the sun began to spill its meager light across the city, signalling the end of his shift. He signed off tiredly and began the long trek towards UA. Content or not, it was still exhausting to do a double patrol on very little sleep.

He managed a quick nap on the train but still bought a large coffee on the way. Just from the smell of it he felt more awake, having Pavloved himself into that response. Half of it was gone by the time he got to RG’s suite.

Not bothering to knock, he let himself in and found Shirogane sitting on the edge of his bed, listening to Recovery Girl’s discharge instructions with ill disguised impatience.

“And the second you experience any lingering pain or difficulty breathing, you come straight to me, understand?”

“Yes, yes, can I go now?”

“Fine, you can leave. It’ll be quieter with you gone.” Recovery Girl griped. “Besides, your escort awaits.”

Shirogane’s face lit up when he saw Shouta but he quickly stifled it back into a mask of disinterest. Recovery Girl shuffled out, squinting at Shouta as she passed as if trying to see if he’d cause any more trouble which Shouta resented. He hadn’t been the instigator of any of it this time.

“Good morning Aizawa. What are you doing here?” Shirogane asked after the door swung shut behind the pint sized doctor.

“It’s tradition. No one’s allowed to leave the hospital alone.”

“This is hardly a hospital.”

Shouta shrugged. “I can leave if you want.”

“I’m not that rude. You came all this way for me, I could hardly turn you away now.” Shirogane said smoothly as he stood up. He was dressed normally again, gray slacks and button up covered by a puffy, orange, triangle themed sweater.

Shouta must have been more fatigued than he thought because he found this sweater to be marginally less terrible than all the ones he’d seen before. 

“It was Zashi’s idea, I didn’t come by myself.” Shouta grouched.

“You didn’t? Has Yamada been quirked to be invisible then?” Shirogane teased but Shouta stalled. He glanced around the room. 

No Hizashi.

Scrambling for his phone, he nearly dropped his coffee cup but Shirogane scooped it out of his hands just in time with a confused frown.

No texts.

He thumbed through his phone, opening the tracker app Nedzu had made for them and swiping frantically across the map, ignoring his own blinking dot. Nothing. Zashi’s tracker was disconnected. It should never be disconnected. Shouta’s blood ran cold. 

With clammy hands, he opened a new app and spun through all the video footage of their flat, uncaring that Shirogane was peering over his elbow, attention rapt on Shouta’s phone. 

There! Hizashi had left their flat at the usual time. Shouta backed out of those cameras and loaded up the recording from the street. He watched his husband walk their normal path towards UA, switching from one camera to the next, eyes glued to the bright yellow peak of Zashi’s hair.

For blocks, nothing happened beyond Zashi cheerfully greeting the few people he passed. 

But then. 

With bated breath, Shirogane and Shouta watched as Hizashi halted, eyes locked on something happening in an alley. They watched his mouth move as he spoke with whoever was there before turning fully away from the street as if to walk towards the person he was speaking with. 

As soon as he did, a large van rolled up behind him, the side door open. Something shot out of the alley, faster than Hizashi could brace for and slammed into him, knocking him off his feet and into the van, the door slamming shut.

And then the van drove away slowly. Everything had happened too fast for onlookers to notice, the streets still thin due to how early it’d been.

Shouta’s phone slipped from his numb fingers, clattering to the ground. 

The peace he’d found last night crumbled to dust. His vision blurred, black and red fuzzing everything. A riot of emotions were roiling within him, boiling up to fill every vein and every bone and every fiber of his being. 

A small hand gripped his elbow and he snapped up, meeting eyes of molten stone that burned with the very same emotions that threatened to burst from his skin. Without thought or speech, they made another deal.

Hizashi had been kidnapped. And there was going to be hell to pay.