With a Strum of My Heart Strings

Sharp are the Arrows of a Broken Heart

Shouta only nodded, asking, "And how does that make you feel?" What was he getting at here?

"You're my therapist now?" he questioned. His father was not amused, giving him a look that said, 'just answer the question, Hitoshi,' which is what he might have said out loud if Shinsou didn't comply. "Really upset, obviously."

"And?"

"Angry." He paused for a moment, thinking about it. "But some sad than anything, I suppose." Aizawa nodded. This really was starting to feel like a therapy session. Except, with a therapist that wasn't really fit for the job, and was kind of intimidating. Shinsou didn't voice that thought, as funny as he knew Hizashi would have found it.

But then his father started diving a little deeper. "Do you miss him?" he asked in a voice that Shinsou found much too casual for this conversation. He looked up from the cat and eyed him, unsure of why he was asking all of this. If anything, this conversation was just kindling for the fire of those terrible feelings from earlier.

"What kind of question is that?" he attempted to snap, but his voice came out much weaker than he'd intended. Aizawa knew full well the effect this was having on him but just gave him that look again, urging him to talk. Shinsou didn't want to find out what would happen if he didn't. He sighed meekly into Koneko's side, saying, "Of course, I miss him." Aizawa seemed pleased that his son was actually working with him.

"Do you think he misses you?"

"I--" Shinsou paused, thinking about that one for a moment. He'd given up on defying the questions, now. He just wanted to get this over with. "Probably," he mumbled into the cat, gaining him a mouth full of fur, which he profusely spat out. His father chucked before letting his face fall into its usual blank slate.

"And how do you think he feels about all of this?" Okay, seriously, why was he asking all of this? Shinsou would have huffed if weren't on the brink of tears, the horrible memories of earlier trying to drown him.

"He..." Shinsou cursed himself as his voiced wavered, hesitating, "He's probably upset, too." Shouta nodded, giving him a soft smile.

"Exactly. You're not the only one going through this, Hitoshi. I'm sure he feels exactly the same." Shinsou felt a silent tear finally fall, and he tried to hide it by pressing his face back into Koneko, who was starting to squirm in his arms. He realized just how tight he was hanging on to her and loosened his grip a little.

"I just--" He sniffed as he felt himself being pulled into Aizawa's embrace. He hugged back tightly, as if his life depended on it, afraid that his father's support would disappear if he let him go. "I don't understand." Another sniff, more tears. "Why would he do that?" He cried into Shouta's shoulder, and he let him, not daring to let his son go.

"Was there any reason he had to doubt you?" he asked, which caused Shinsou to pull his head back and look at him. "Speaking from my experiences, he might have been more prone to doing that if he had reason to believe you weren't being loyal to him, or maybe if he didn't trust you for some reason."

Oh.

Oh.

Shit.

Kaminari had said something like that, hadn't he? He thought that Shinsou was... using him. That's right. So he did have a reason not to trust him, to doubt him, to think he wasn't loyal. But the real question was why he thought that. Why did Sero tell him that? This just didn't add up.

But maybe if he'd been honest about that stalker in the first place, Kaminari wouldn't have thought that he was hiding something from him. He was so stupid.

Aizawa must have seen the look of realization spread across Shinsou's features because he then said, "What did you do?" He was back to his normal, monotone voice. That was somewhat reassuring, for some reason.

Hitoshi hastily said, "I didn't-- Well, I guess I did hide something from him." He paused for a moment, drying the remaining tears on his cheeks. He was thankful he'd stopped crying, for now, at least. Shouta gave him a look of disappointment. "I was just trying to protect him," he rushed to explain. "But he said he thought I was using him during our argument." His father's face softened again.

"I'm assuming that isn't true?" he asked. Shinsou hurriedly shook his head. "Figured. Look, Hitoshi," he placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "You two should talk. No fighting, no yelling. You should have a calm discussion with him about everything. You never know what could happen." He was right, Shinsou knew that. But the thought of talking with Kaminari after what he did-- after what they both did-- scared him. Terrified him. More than he'd like to admit. He was scared of what could happen, the rejection he could face, the cold bitterness he knew he'd receive from Denki. But he was also scared that, if by the off chance everything worked itself out, this would happen all over again, or that they just wouldn't be able to trust each other again. That's what truly terrified him.

Aizawa broke him from his thoughts. "It'll be okay, Hitoshi. You'll be okay. Don't rush it, these kinds of things take a lot of time." Shinsou nodded, giving his father one last hug. He didn't think this conversation could have gone anywhere good, but here he was, feeling better than he had in hours. He'd have to thank his father for everything he'd done to help later.

And maybe he was a better therapist than Hitoshi initially thought.