Running on Empty

The marks of a muzzle Pt4: Quiet

Hitoshi lay awake thinking about everything Hizashi had just told him. It was comforting, to know that he understood, even if it made him upset to hear about everything the hero had gone through all those years ago.

He'd always been so... isolated, so secluded. No one cared enough to even try and understand his pain, and yet here was someone who did. Just like that. He showed Hitoshi that despite everything he could be okay; he could grow confident using his voice again.

If it ever came back.

The fact that it was gone was... terrifying. He'd been so used to the muzzle making his jaw hurt that he hadn't thought anything of the slight ache in it before now; he often got phantom pains when he wasn't wearing the thing, so it didn't strike him as unusual. He was regretting that assumption now, there was clearly something wrong.

If his voice didn't return, he wouldn't be able to use his quirk, he'd be virtually quirkless. And he was well aware that if there was one group of people treated worse than those with 'villainous quirks' it was most definitely the quirkless.

Orphanages and foster homes were often abusive towards people like him, but those without quirks were usually just thrown straight to the streets.

Shouta probably wouldn't want to bother training him if he couldn't use him quirk, and Hizashi wouldn't be able to relate to him anymore. How could the Voice Hero himself ever connect with someone without a voice. And on top of that—

"'Toshi, I can practically feel how hard you're thinking."

Oh no, he sounded tired. Hitoshi was keeping him up. He just couldn't bring himself to try to sleep. There was too much on his mind, and he really didn't want to have another nightmare. The idea of closing his eyes and waking back up on the floor somewhere unable to breathe was too much to handle right now, and he suppressed a shudder at the thought.

"Are you scared of having another bad dream?"

Hitoshi looked up and met the hero's concerned gaze before nodding.

Hizashi hummed, "When Sho or I have nightmares or just can't sleep, we usually braid each other's hair, it's pretty relaxing. Your hair's quite long, do you want me to try?"

He blinked in surprise, that was not what he was expecting him to suggest. It was worth a try though, so he nodded again, and the hero gestured for him to sit up, taking his place behind him.

He heard shuffling around in the background, and then Hizashi was gently running a brush through the ends of his hair, working his way up.

He hummed quietly as he did so, and Hitoshi could already feel his eyelids drooping. He let out a sigh of contentment when Hizashi put the brush to the side and began weaving his fingers through his hair.

The gentle touches on his scalp and the sweet melody distracted him from his earlier thoughts, and by focusing on them he found himself nodding off. He felt a small bundle of fluff jump into his lap and looked down to see Dog.

The last thought that ran through his mind before Hizashi had to lie him down so he didn't fall to the side was that he'd finally been accepted by the last member of the family. The cat that hated everyone. He felt the ghost of a smile cross his lips as he pulled her closer, Hizashi tied the braid off but continued to stroke his hair as he hummed the unfamiliar tune.

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Hitoshi woke up some time later. The lamp was still on and he could feel Hizashi fast asleep behind him. It took him a while to gather his senses and figure out what it was that had disturbed him. And he nearly had a heart attack when he did — standing beside the bed, looking down at him was a dark figure. They were dressed mostly in black, with a pale face and something light wrapped around their shoulders.

He blinked rapidly to clear the blur from his eyes and huffed a laugh when he realised it was Shouta back from patrol.

"Sorry kid, I didn't mean to wake you." He said, putting his phone — which for some reason had been in his hands — down on the nightstand. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Hitoshi nodded, still trying to calm his racing heart from his moment of panic.

"How you feeling now?" Shouta asked, picking some clothes up off of the floor and unwinding his scarf. He looked back up when he didn't hear a response.

"Better," Hitoshi signed, hesitating before adding, "I can't speak."

Shouta tilted his head in question and Hitoshi just shrugged.

"Are you in pain?"

"My throat hurts a little bit." Hitoshi confessed and Shouta nodded.

"You probably just overused it, but we'll take you to see Recovery Girl in the morning just in case. Do you want a painkiller?"

Hitoshi shook his head, it wasn't bad, just a slight ache.

"Okay, well let me know if that changes." Shouta ruffled his hair before leaving the room with his pile of clothes.

He returned a couple of minutes later in pyjamas and Hitoshi shifted to the centre of the bed making room. Shouta slid under the warm covers with a grateful smile and wrapped his arms around both his husband and Hitoshi.

Normally, Hitoshi didn't like being crowded — he'd end up feeling claustrophobic and panicking. This though? He could get used to this.