Sorry.

Chapter 13

Third person pov

They fell into a routine over the course of the next few days. They'd go to sleep incredibly early, and then they'd wake up again, incredibly early. They'd shower before anyone was up and sing a few duets to lighten the stress that always seemed to buzz around Touya. Takashi then makes breakfast for literally everyone in the dorm. He'd feel too guilty if one of the kids were left hungry. After that it's all more cut and dry. They go to class, Touya gets glared at, Izuku and Shoto eat lunch with the pair happily, and then they go back to the dorms where Takashi starts dinner.

"It's funny how they all think you're going to kill them." Shoto admitted. Takashi was organizing their closet while Shoto, Izuku, and Touya all sat around and idly worked on homework. "I watched you panic because you couldn't find your other sock yesterday."

"Hey, it's a nice pair." Touya argued mildly as he stared at the complex math problem laid out before him. His eyes drift to the calculator sitting by his thigh. He knows he needs to pick it up and do the problem, but he felt so drained of energy. Not that the feeling was anything new. Since coming to the dorms, he'd been a ball of anxiety. Takashi hugging him and cooing over him was the only thing that really calmed him down these days.

"They were white with rainbow paw prints all over it." Izuku recalled. Touya raised his pencil threateningly. 

"Case and point." Touya scoffed. "A damn nice pair of socks." 

"Play nice, you three. I need Touya in a good mood." Takashi chirped, forcing one of his sweaters onto a hanger. Takashi had gone back to the apartment only once to go get more of their things, but was so exhausted when he came back that he simply threw them in the closet and shut the door. Apparently he'd ran into one of his neighbors, and you can imagine how that went, considering the shady types that lived in their complex. He got roped into breaking up some sort of fight next door between an old woman with a drinking problem and a man no taller than four feet. Both were fearsome, from what Takashi had recalled.

"A good mood? Why?" Shoto blinked.

"Oh, for when Fuyumi and Natsuo get here, of course!" Takashi chirped. "I'm so excited to meet them. They have no idea what's going on, either! In case the flaming shit bag has their phones monitored. I wouldn't be surprised."

Touya and Shoto stared at Takashi for a moment, processing his words. After the meeting with the parents, some of the students had seemed a bit more at ease around Touya. They still scattered when they got close, and none of them ever gave him so much as a hello, but one of them had looked his direction of their own free will earlier without even a hint of a glare. If that wasn't progress, Touya wasn't sure what was. It made him hopeful that maybe they'd stop being so afraid of him given time.

"...Fuyumi and Natsuo?" Shoto checked.

"Those are your siblings, right?" Izuku asked his soulmate, still scribbling in his notebook. Probably overdoing an essay by several words. Takashi had taken to grading most of the essays that shot Aizawa's way. He wasn't their literature teacher, but some topics still demanded papers nonetheless. Takashi was a preschool teacher, and by extension, and expert at deciphering messy hand writing. Aizawa had looked at the brunette as though he were god when he read Kaminari's handwriting aloud with zero hesitation, squinting, or issue at all.

"Wait, what? They're coming today?!" Touya stopped himself from jumping to his feet and grabbing Takashi's shoulders so he could shake him. "Why didn't you tell me, babe?! What the fuck?!"

"I didn't tell you because I knew you'd panic. Like you're doing right now. Don't worry; I'm going to go in and talk to them first, like I did with Shoto here! You don't have anything to worry about. Just sit there and look hot until Aizawa comes and gets us." Takashi waved a hanger at him in a gesturing sort of way as Touya gaped. He knew it was probably or the best. He had less time to overthink now, but also less time to prepare. What would they say? What would they think? Would they hate him?