It was nostalgic, being back in Aizawa-San's house. Nothing had changed in the years since they'd last been here, they could almost hear themselves whispering in Izuku's mind- telling him to stay. They wondered if they would've sat on the sofa late at night when they couldn't sleep, squished between the two men watching TV. Or how many meals they would've had sitting at the dining room table and whether it was a group thing full of talking and smiles.
Was it possible to feel nostalgic over something Yoi wished had happened? Memories they wanted instead of had? Their stomach hurt with how much they yearned.
"Hey," Present-(call me Hizashi or Yamada!)-Mic cooed from beside them "Everything ok?"
/Why wouldn't it be?/
Seeing the confusion on their face, Yamada smiled sadly. "You're crying."
Oh
Lifting a hand to their cheek, they found that the loud man was right.
"Huh," their chuckle was hollow, nonplussed. "I didn't realise." They ignored the concerned gaze and moved further into the house, taking in the pictures dotted around the living room with smiling faces and well meaning scowls.
There weren't any pictures like that at home.
There was one lone picture and it was in Izuku's mothers room. It was of Inko and Hisashi on their wedding day and not a day went by that they didn't hear her crying as she cleaned it.
They should feel upset about that, shouldn't they? There was just an emptiness in Yoi's chest whenever they thought of the woman that birthed them, and they didn't know whether it was by design but they didn't feel much negative emotion at all, always calm and logical no matter what they had been told or experienced.
"Hey kid, want me to show you your room?" Absently they followed, world blurring a little around the edges as they were guided, Aizawa's baritone washing over them in a wave of meaningless noise until an undetermined amount of time later they found themselves sitting on the edge of the bed, body aching in a way that told them they hadn't moved in a while.
"Back with us?" Head turning, Yoi grimaced at the sensation of cotton wool in their joints, the creaking of their neck tickling their eardrums.
"How long?"
"A few hours," Aizawa replied, groaning as he lifted himself off of the mattress, "Hizashi insisted on waiting for dinner, so I'll let him know to start- that is if you feel up to it. You can eat here if you want?" Instantly Izuku surged forwards, pressing behind their eyes in a headache of anxiety and panic and we-can't-say-no-that-would-be-rude that made them rub the bridge of their nose between pointer and thumb to try and stave off the pain.
"We'll be out in a minute."
*
Shouta left the room with an air of muted worry and reluctance. He could tell the boy in their spare room wasn't in the right frame of mind to be left alone for long, but could also tell that hovering wouldn't be welcome when all he wanted to do was wrap the small boy in his sleeping bag and guard him from the world with bared teeth and glowing eyes.
Entering the kitchen lifted his mood slightly as his eyes fell upon his husband humming quietly as he cooked and couldn't help but wrap his arms around the other's thin waist and rest his forehead between surprisingly muscled shoulders.
Hizashi, his wonderful, understanding husband, said nothing and just hummed a little louder as he worked around the new weight; giving Shouta time to pull himself back together.
"He ok?" Shouta frowned loudly as he pulled away, letting Hizashi turn to face him.
"No," he finally settled on saying, "but hopefully they will be now they're away from the situation." The blonde nodded, adjusting his glasses as he moved to grab plates out of the cupboard.
"You know we're going to have to ask, right?" Slender hands traced the edge of the stacked porcelain anxiously, "the emergency foster won't last long without a reason, maybe a day or two-"
"I know." The dark haired man interrupted gently, "We have a time limit on something that shouldn't be rushed but it can wait until tomorrow."
"You don't have to wait," fuck, spinning around Shouta was surprised to see the green haired boy leaning casually against the kitchen doorframe, them getting there without either of the Pro Heroes noticing was alarming in more ways than one. He could forgive Hizashi, he was at home, hearing aids probably turned down like he was wont to do when he was relaxed but Shouta?
He made a living on hearing the slightest noise in the dead of night, picking out the sounds that didn't fit and following it to a crime.
"You don't have to push yourself-"
"I'm not," the smile the boy sent their way was too tired to be on such a young face. "You can ask your questions after dinner if you want?" Taking in the pale skin, tired eyes and defensive posture, Shouta hesitated. A lot had happened over the last few days, he wouldn't blame the kid for wanting a break from it but they were doing the opposite-
"If that's ok with you listener," Mic replied as the silence dragged on a bit too long, plates being placed on the table sounded louder than they should. "Shou just wants you to relax while you're here, to have a safe space y'know?" Smile turning more genuine, the boy made his way further into the kitchen.
"We understand that, truly we do but if we had to choose between only staying here a few days or telling you what happened so we can stay longer? Well, it's obvious what we'll choose."
While not agreeing with what he was hearing, he wanted them to tell him when they trusted him not because they should, Shouta understood where they were coming from so he let the subject drop, moving to eat his dinner while listening to Hizashi as he prattled on about what happened at the radio station early that morning (he always went for just an hour or two before school to check up on things), what gossip he'd heard and who was dating who between bites of rice and emphatic gestures.
Dinner passed swiftly, too swift in Shouta's opinion because sitting across from the teen in their living room? It felt more like an interrogation and he did not like it.
"We haven't thought much about explaining what's been going on so bare with us please." He nodded solemnly, while 'Zashi made an aborted movement, like he was going to raise his hand.
"Before you start, can I ask a question?" Looking slightly startled, the green head of hair bobbed as they nodded. "Right, so I've noticed you say 'we' when talking about yourself and I just wanted to ask before we got to the heavy stuff, what are your pronouns?" Green eyes stared at the blonde for a long moment, mouth twitching once before chuckles burst forth, shaking the thin body.
*
"S-sorry," they gasped, a tendril of amusement curling in their chest, "I've just been waiting for someone to ask that and apart from Aizawa-san, and that doesn't really count for reasons he knows, you're the first to ask." Aizawa rolled his eyes, probably remembering the Shōgai debacle, while Yamada's offended look -hand pressed to his chest just adding to the offence he felt on their behalf- made the amusement slightly stronger. "It changes," Yoi admitted, "It would probably be better just to ask, or default to they/them if you're unsure."
"Got it!" Yamada grinned, shifting a little in his seat, the amusement in the room dissipating under the heaviness as it returned.
Taking a deep breath through their nose, Yoi took a moment to build a mental wall between them and the others so they wouldn't hear, and talked. They described how their father left when he believed them to be quirkless- leaving no detail out, how their mother slowly began hating them more as time passed, forgetting to feed them and lashing out at them. Haltingly they described their first assault, how Izuku grew more scared and worried over forgetting things and 'blacking out' as he grew older and the reason for their own creation being the loss of the only person to show them love.
Yoi aired it all.
It was easy to talk once they'd started, like breaking a dam the words poured out in a dissociative haze, words being forgotten as soon as they passed their lips because they weren't Yoi's memories. The hard part was after the dam had run dry and they were left feeling rubbed raw, vulnerable and weak, shaking hands clenched together tightly because the two most important people in their lives knew now and they had no clue as to what they would do.
The shuffle of Yamada's clothes sounded like a gunshot in the silence as he stood, moving to crouch in front of them with wide, tear filled eyes.
"I'm sorry," the loud man cleared his throat, "I'm so sorry that no one was there for you, that the first time you all felt loved was when Shou picked you up in that alley while you were looking for food. Someone should have been there but they weren't." Multi-tone green eyes stared imploringly up at them, "But we're here now, if you'll let us. We'll give all of you all the love you deserve and more because we care. We want you." The more he spoke, the more that mental wall cracked until Izuku forced his way out in a flood of tears and muttered thank you's. Large, thin hands cradled his, thumb rubbing gently as the elder cooed.
"We've got you and we'll never let go."