"So..." The man leans against the doorway, arms crossed loosely, regarding his husband with a meaningful gaze. "Care to explain?" His long blonde hair swayed as he let his head tilt to the side, showing off a cascade of golden locks, tied into a messy half-bun.
Sighing softly, Aizawa's eyes flickered to the lit corridor leading into the bedrooms, before settling on the voice Hero once more. "Coffee first." He mutters, tone slow and gruff as the exhaustion of the day finally seems to catch up to him.
Humming in agreement, Hizashi followed the underground hero to the kitchen counter, watching through mustard green eyes as the man made himself a cup of coffee, his movements sluggish and tired as he moved through the motions on habit alone.
Once settled in their respective seats in front of each other, the smoky, earthy scent of coffee ground melting into the air around them, Aizawa began his explanation.
They talked in soft voices, actively keeping their tones low so as to not be overheard by their impromptu guest. The voice hero only spoke once Aizawa was done with his retelling of the afternoon's events. Having listened attentively, patiently waiting for the man to finish.
"Is the listener going to be okay? What could cause that kind of extreme reaction?"
"We don't know, we don't have access to his medical files and the kid didn't have anything to say about it either." Sighing for what felt like the umpteenth time today, he continued. "Recovery Girl thinks it might just be his body that's not fit to handle invasive quirks."
"Can't you ask his parents for his medical records?" The man inquired, taking a moment to adjust his glasses before letting his hands rest once more on the countertop.
"His father is apparently out of town, didn't even answer his phone. The kid's on his own for now."
Both of them were silent for a moment, processing these facts, sharing a meaningful gaze in between them. "And are you okay?" The question seemed to catch the underground hero off guard. He should be used to his husband's perceptiveness and protectiveness by now.
"I'm..." He tried to find the right words, wanting to be at least a little honest. "I'm alright, just got scared for a moment there. The kid was in a pretty bad shape and it caught me off guard." Noticing the man's reluctance to elaborate he changed the subject.
"So, how long will he stay with us?"
Taking a long sip of his drink, hands cupped around it, chasing the warmth, Aizawa answered softly. "I'm not sure, the weekend at least and then, I guess it will depend on how he's doing, and if his father decides to finally show himself."
They heard a door open down the hall, the only indication that someone else was in their apartment. The boy's footsteps were so light, if Aizawa wasn't expecting him to show up, he wouldn't have noticed him entering the kitchen.
"Hey there, little listener, we were just about to call you out here." The kid looked smaller than usual, wearing one of Aizawa's spear shirts and sweatpants, one that seemed both too tall and too tight on him, given his frankly impressive amount of body muscle, but smaller stature. He figured it would do for now.
His posture was as rigid as ever, however, back ramrod straight, shoulders held confidently even as he seemed to want to be anywhere but here.
"Yes, sir, would you like me to help out with anything?"
"Help out?" Hizashi repeated a little dumbly before jumping up from his perch on his elevated seat. "Of course not, you're a guest here, and you are recovering!" His jubilant hero persona made a comeback as he bounced in place, gesturing widely with his arms. "Right now, you're only job is to lay down and relax, got that, little man?"
Aizawa, taking pity on the kid's stunned expression, chimed in softly. "He's right, you should be resting. Are you hungry? It's a little late for dinner, but I could make you something light to eat."
"No, thank you, sir, I'm okay."
Running a hand through his hair, Aizawa tried his best not to sigh out loud once more. He didn't want to make the kid feel worse but still... "What did I tell you about calling me sir?"
"Yeah, yeah! You can't keep calling us that!" and as he saw Izuku's mouth open to utter their hero names, he hurried to continue. "And don't even try to call us by our code names!"
"Kid, When we're at home, call me Aizawa."
"And of course, you can call me Yamada!"
Recognizing a direct order when handed out to him, he amended his earlier statement. "Thank you, Aizawa-san, Yamada-san, however, I am sufficiently sated at the moment." Both adults felt once again caught off guard by the boy's choice of language and words. One would think he was giving a report to a government official if they didn't know better. Sharing a discrete bewildered glance, they did their best to move on with the interaction.
"Sure, kid..." Aizawa muttered, sinking more into his drink.
"If you change your mind, you're welcome to anything in the fridge or in any of these pantries right here." Yamada gestured to the shelves and cabinets in question, satisfied with the nod he got in response.
The silence settled around them once more, an awkward lilt increasing the longer it stretched.
"Why don't you sit down with us, little listener, aren't you uncomfortable standing over there?" Aizawa could imagine the comically exaggerated bead of sweat falling off of his husband's forehead as he tried to fill in the silence. He never could stand awkward interactions. If anything, he was at least thankful for the man taking over the lead.
"No, thank you, Yamada-san."
"A-ah, well," The hero fumbled, not having expected the blunt refusal. "If you're sure, I guess..." He chuckled nervously, shooting Aizawa a glance, almost as if to urge him to join in on the conversation, or what little of it there was.
"Then why don't you turn in for the night, kid, it's pretty late and Recovery Girl advised you to get as much rest as possible. We'll talk more in the morning."
"Yes, Si- A-Aizawa-san." And with that, he turned on his heels and marched into the corridor once more.
Straining to hear the soft click of the guestroom door, he finally let himself relax, watching as Hizashi's shoulders seemed to drop some of their tension too. "He's really something else..." Hizashi whispered, his bravado having dwindled the longer he interacted with the tense teenager.
"His behavior sure isn't your typical teenage response, that's for sure," Aizawa mumbled in agreement, frowning at his now empty cup, knowing his husband wouldn't let him get another one anytime soon.
"Do you think his father has anything to do with it?"
"We won't know until we meet him, or at least look into him further." Humming in agreement, they collectively decided to call it a night too.
"Guess so... You should get some sleep too, though."
"Yeah, yeah, I know." He relented, feeling warm despite his exasperation. Rounding the corner to their room, they stopped as they heard a soft voice speak through the closed door.
Hizashi gestured for him to stay quiet, inching a little close to listen.
"No, sir." They could hear, the sound slightly muffled through the barrier. "It was a momentary oversight, sir."
Aizawa shot his husband a dark look, knowing they shouldn't be spying on their student's private conversation.
"I'll endeavor to do so, Sir." At least, now, they knew that the kid didn't call them that exclusively. If his suspicions were right, he'd been trained to only refer to higher authority as such. Specifically, it seemed, his father.
Done with their fleeting lapse in judgment, they shuffled into their room, both of them lost in thought as they got ready for bed.
________________________________________
The tell-tale beeping sounded loudly in his ears, signaling the end of his phone call. Slackening his tightened fist, he let the device rest loosely in his grip. Dread snaked and slithered into his mind, knowing without a doubt that the consequences of his evident weakness were going to come back to bite him. The general wasn't happy to hear his report on the day's events.
He'd tried to somehow diminish the severity of the incident but in the end, one order was all it took for him to spill. He'd been warned not to give anything away, and to return to his base as soon as possible.
Looking around him at the room, he tried to think of his next course of action. Resting in unknown and questionable territories has never been a particular talent of his. He'd been given spare clothes to change into, the fabric, in itself, felt too soft on his skin.
The room was too warm, not the stifling kind, but the kind that brought long-lost images to the forefront of his thoughts, a time when his limbs were smaller and his eyes were wider, innocently burrowing into the care of the world around him.
It made his skin crawl.
Sitting down on the bed, he contemplated the benefits of removing his eyepatch but thought better of it. He'd have to be extra careful these next few days to hide any of his more suspicious aspects. Namely his array of scars and his eye.
Falling back into the soft comforter, he knew right then that sleep would not come to him that night.
Stifling the urge to get up and train, knowing that it would be detrimental to his recovery, he let his thoughts wander.
His eyelids felt heavy, his mind foggy, and yet, he couldn't allow himself to fall asleep. Being vulnerable in unknown territory could be fatal.
Getting up, lest he fall victim to his own bodily urges, he settled himself on the windowsill, looking out at the streets below. They were on the third floor, which as he'd noticed upon entering the building, wouldn't be hard to scale down in case he needed to escape.
In fact, he'd taken note of many entry points, having the instinct to survey every possible weak point or escape route ingrained into him through years of training.
He was paranoid, he knew, however, he could admit to himself that these habits saved his life but more importantly, his mission, many times.
Resting his head against the cold glass, he resigned himself to a long, boring night.
___________________________________________
Aizawa didn't know what to think, checking in on the kid in the morning, opening the door as slowly and softly as he could, he was surprised to find him up and about, sitting in the nook by the window.
"Oh, you're up." The kid, whose head had turned to face him the moment the handle of the door had been touched, just stared back blandly. His face a perfect mask of indifference.
"Good Morning, Aizawa-san." The boy responded calmly, his voice sounding soft in the silence that accompanied the early hours of the morning.
"Did you sleep well? " Shakily drawing a breath, he settled his nerves, knowing it would do him no good to take out his frustration on the kid. "You didn't sleep at all, did you?" The dark, purple-like bruises under his eyes were enough proof of that.
When the kid made no move to answer, he sighed once more. "Come on," He gestured to the open door, urging the kid to follow him. "At least get something to eat." Walking away, he turned an ear to see if the boy would follow and tried his best not to flinch when he turned and found the boy standing right behind him. How was he so quiet?
Settling his nerves, he proceeded to open the fridge and peer inside. "We have a variety of things you could have, Zashi likes to have something different every day." He drawled, wishing he'd gotten his morning coffee before initiating this entire interaction. "So, what would you like to have for breakfast?"
"Anything will do, Aizawa-san."
"Fine, pancakes it is, then." He figured it was the safe bet for teenagers.
"Would you like some help?"
Aizawa gave a nonchalant shrug. "Sure, kid. Grab an apron."
Akatani complied, tying on an apron before joining Aizawa in the kitchen. Together, they worked in silence, with Akatani displaying a surprisingly low level of skill in the culinary arts. Aizawa couldn't help but notice that, for all of the boy's composure, there was something off about him, a tension that ran just beneath the surface.
As they mixed the pancake batter, having had to correct the boy multiple times before he ruined the mix, Aizawa finally decided to probe a little. "You're pretty new at this, kid. Have you never cooked before?"
Akatani hesitated for a moment, his gloved hands still. "Not really, Aizawa-san. My meals are usually handled by someone else."
Aizawa raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. He had a feeling that Akatani was hiding something, but he wasn't one to pry. Instead, he changed the subject. "You've been doing well in your training, Akatani. Your progress is impressive, I think you'll fit right into the hero course."
The teen's response was measured. "Thank you, Aizawa-san. I hope so."
Aizawa couldn't help but wonder what had led to Akatani becoming so guarded and emotionally detached. There was an air of someone who had been through hardship, and had learned to shut down their emotions as a coping mechanism. It was a familiar pattern, one that Aizawa had seen in others who had faced trauma.
As they finished cooking the pancakes and plated them, Aizawa spoke again, this time more gently. "Kid, it's okay to talk about what's bothering you. You don't have to carry everything on your own."
Akatani's eyes flickered, and for a brief moment, Aizawa thought he saw a crack in the young man's emotional armor. But then it was gone, replaced by the same controlled demeanor.
"Eraser, I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine," He replied, his voice devoid of any emotion.
Aizawa sighed inwardly, realizing that he wouldn't get any answers today. He respected the kid's boundaries, knowing that pushing too hard would only push him further away. Together, they carried the plates of pancakes to the table, the tension in the room palpable.
In that quiet moment, as they sat down to eat breakfast, Aizawa couldn't help but feel that there was more to Akatani's story than met the eye. He made a mental note to keep an eye on the young hero-in-training, determined to uncover the truth behind the walls of emotional detachment that surrounded him.
As the sun continued to rise outside, Aizawa and Akatani shared a meal in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, both aware that there were secrets hidden beneath the surface, waiting to be revealed.
chapter 16 already posted on my patreon, link in my bio