-Aizawa's POV-
I walk up towards the counter and wash away the dishes. I get lost in thought from Hizashi's words. Was I really setting him back? The more that I think about it the closer I get to agreeing with him. However I'll never admit that he's right, or at least to his face. I shut the water off and put the dishes away.
My husband picks up other areas around the house as I walk up the stairs to check on Izuku. I knock on the door. I hear a faint, 'Come in!' I enter the room and he looks exhausted. I walk up to the small desk-table he's working at. I look down at the work.
"Kid, this isn't due for, like, three weeks. And this is extra credit. Your grades are fine, you're in the top five of the class!" He looks up at me. His eyes are bloodshot and bags have made themselves cozy and comfortable on his face. His eyes look as if he's carrying weights on them. His mouth and eyelids droop down in a relaxed, yet stressed manner.
"I know, but I have time right now!" I give him a look as my mouth forms a line. My brows furrow.
"Kid, you look exhausted. You didn't go back to sleep last night, God knows how long you were up in total!" He mumbles something under his breath. He didn't seem to be giving me attitude, he seemed to be saying something that he was shy about.
"What? What did you say?" Instead of hovering over him, I sit on the bed next to him. He turns so he can face me.
"I said that I woke up at one." So, how long was he under that desk for, then? He raises one knee and his head rests upon it.
"How long were you under that desk, then? If you felt a flashback coming why didn't you come tell us? Why don't you get some sleep? Why haven't you taken a nap or something? Why ca-" I'm cut off by him sniffling. He wipes a tear from his face. I only then realized that I've been questioning him in a way that directed the blame onto him.
"Kid, I didn't mean it to be like that. I wasn't trying to blame you or anything." He quickly wipes off the tears that run down his cheeks. He curses under his breath. He forces the palms of his hands into his eyes until the tears halt. When he takes them off he does a quick double blink and search around the room.
"I-it's fine. I'm just b-being dramatic." His voice grows quiet.
"Kid, I'm sorry. You're not being dramatic. I should've phrased the questions differently. I don't think it's your fault about last night. I'm just saying that you look tired, you should get some sleep." He nods and packs up his books. It is only then I realize that he has virtually nothing. He has three shirts, two pairs of pants, whatever is in his backpack, and two copies of his uniform.
"Kid, do.. do you need anything? Clothing, books, a charger?" He shakes his head and my gut tells me he's lying. My instinct is only validated by the lack of eye contact and him bouncing his leg up and down whilst fidgeting with his hands.
"Alright, you need something. What is it?" He looks back down.
"Kid, what is it?" My voice approaches the topic carefully.
"I-I don't need anything, sir." My eyes widen while I hold back a chuckle. I bust a rib cackling over his latest name for us. He chuckles as well once he's realized what he said.
"I'm sorry, but, 'sir'? Damn, didn't think you'd come up with another name besides our actual names. But, seriously, I can tell you need something." He shakes his head once more. My eyes grow gentler.
"Kid, it's clear that you need something. What is it? No one will get mad, we've got plenty of money. What is it?" He shakes his head again.
"Do you need clothes? You don't have that many." He looks down and hesitates before shaking his head. I stuck a nerve. I realize he needs clothes.
"Kid, you have three god damn shirts that are all pretty worn down. For fucks sake kid, one of them has a hole in it. We're getting you clothes." His eyes widen and his head shoots up.
"S-seriously, I don't need any! I don't want to be a burden." He says his final sentence in a quieter tone than the rest, but I still manage to hear it.
"Kid, you're not a burden! We like having you here, we care about you, you're our son for crying out loud! Just let us help you." His facial expressions change throughout my spiel. He looked as if he was going through the five stages of grief right then and there; he looked doubtful when I told him he wasn't a burden and how we didn't mind having him here. He smiled when I told him we cared about him and that he's our son. When I got to my final sentiment, he seemed to give into something and then tug it back up from the trenches of his brain. He sighs and bends down to his backpack. He arises perfectly from a lunging position with a wallet in his hands. I sigh and chuckle. There is no way he's going to give me money. Hell no.
"H-here, I don't need anything. It's just f-for being a bit of a burden recently!" A meek smile flashed itself on his face.
"Kid, put the wallet down. You do not need to pay anyone to stay here. You are our family; not just a house guest. We're getting you clothes, just a shirt or two and a couple pairs of pants. It'll only be like, twenty five dollars." He tears up and then jumps forward onto me. I appreciate the sudden burst of affection, but the reason why is the root of my concern.
"You really, really don't need to. I don't want you spending all that money on me." A small smile appears on my face as I hug back.
"Well, you need it." He sniffles. I feel several teardrops drop onto my shoulder.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you." All I do in response is continue to hug him. I make sure to avoid certain areas while hugging him, but nevertheless, bear hug him. He smiles. Within a few minutes I hear light and gentle snoring. I smile to myself and lie him down. I walk out, but not before shutting off the lights.
I walk downstairs to be greeted with a cup of coffee and paperwork from the school. I thank Hizashi for the coffee and paperwork. I find a spot on the couch and quickly skim over the text and sign it off. I finish the pamphlet in around ten to fifteen minutes. My arms stretch upwards as I yawn, releasing the tension built up in my back. I look towards my husband who's finishing up around the same time as me.
"We need to get Izuku some clothes." I say as my arms drop back down into my lap with a thud and a sigh.
"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. Doesn't he only have, like, four shirts?" My husband inquires.
"Three. And one has a hole in it." His eyebrows raise and he nods. Anger and exhaustion build up my need to sleep. I immediately yawn again. I get up and grab more coffee. My husband drinks his cup of tea. I never quite understood tea drinkers. I head back to the living room to see my husband curled up, enticed by some show he found while clicking through the channels.
"What's happening?" I ask. I take up a seat next to him. He shushes me and holds up one finger as to signify me to be quiet for one moment. As soon as an ad break comes up he turns to me and spills about the television show. I nod along to his jumble of words.
"Nice.. I'm headed to bed." I announce as I stand up. I head upstairs and crawl in, only to be joined by a blonde, five minutes after.
-The next morning.-
I wake up and rub my eyes. I look over at the clock. '10:32'
I look over to Hizashi and take note of him still sleeping. I get up and out of bed. I head downstairs. I grab some coffee. Once I down the cup, I head upstairs and check on Izuku. I knock on the door lightly.
"Come in!" I hear from the other side. I open the door. I find the kid studying. I sigh and shut the door.
"How long have you been up? Just how long?" He turns to face me. His eyes still have a glow in them, but it looks dimmed. His eyebags look worse than mine. His smile seems weighted and not in the right circumstance, like ever. He looks exhausted. Not just from lack of sleep, but everything that happened recently.
"I woke up at... I think it was.. twenty one O'Clock." That was about half an hour after I left.
"Why didn't you go back to sleep, kiddo?" I uncross my arms and the tense look on my face melts away. It's painted over with empathy and compassion.
"I couldn't." He looks down and fidgets with his fingers.
"Why?" His upper lip quivers and he starts crying. I sit on his bed then pat next to me signaling for him to sit there. Once he's seated he cries into his knees.
"C'mere, kiddo." I open my arms and gesture for a hug. He springs into my arms. I hold him in my arms as he cries into my shoulder.
"Shh, you're safe, it's gonna be okay, I'm here, okay? I got you, kid. You're alright with me." He takes a deep breath. I smile at his achievement.
"I'm sorry." He mutters. He pulls away from the embrace. In the amount of time he's stayed here, I've been made aware of his habit of apologizing after something happens, even when it isn't his fault.
"You don't need to apologize. But, why couldn't you go to sleep? If you don't mind me asking." He searches around the room. Looking from side to side.
"It didn't feel safe. I didn't want to go to bed because it didn't feel safe. I thought it was going to happen again." I sigh.
"Kid, you know we're not going to let that happen. Especially in this house under our watch." He goes to say something but gets interrupted by his own fear. He quickly shuts his mouth and lowers his head towards his knees. His arms wrap around his shins. I can't help but feel a tad bit rejected.
"What's wrong? What were you going to say? I'm not gonna get mad, kiddo." I position myself next to him with my back touching the wall. My hands rest over my knees.
"U-under your watch it did.. it did happen again. H-how can I trust t-that it won't?" His body tenses up. He braces himself to be yelled at or hit. Instead of shaming the question. I agree with him. I didn't think he would be a double threat, now I know.
"You're right. Kid, I thought he would only attack you once. Once he attacked you twice I realized that it could happen again. I'm so so sorry, kid. I'm so so sorry. Can I give you a hug?" I ask. He nods and I lean forward to hug him. He keeps an apathetic face on. I pull away after a while. Tears meet my eyes. The kid simply looks to the bottom right instead of me. I sigh.
"Do you need to be alone right now?" He looks at me, grateful for something. The light quickly dims though.
"I won't be mad. But, do you?" He apprehensively nods. I smile and exit the room I hear faint cries through the door. My heart breaks in two for the kid. When I leave I see Yamada chilling on the couch. I finally let the tears drop from my eyes. He takes notice immediately and pats the seat next to him. I move up next to him. I tell him everything that happened and that I just feel so sorry for the kid. I tell him the anger and everything about this situation.
"Hun, I know it sucks, but there's nothing we can do. We could try talking to him but we're not licensed. When we get him a therapist, we can do whatever exercises they tell us to do. Until then, we shouldn't do too much. All we can do is help him through whatever happens in the moment. If you want, we can look over some pamphlets or something when he's calmed down. I got a ton from work." A smile grows on my face as a result of his compassionate tone. I nod. He smiles at me and stays in the half hug position we created. Within a few minutes we hear quiet and shy footsteps make their way downstairs.
"Hey there, little listener! Good morning, well, noon!" My husband smiles at him. He timidly smiles back at us. We wave him over to come sit with us. He apprehensively walks up to us and sits in a corner. He sits about two feet away from us and is tucked into a corner. We respect his choice. After sitting in silence for a bit my husband breaks it by standing up. He walks up the stairs and comes back with a binder. I know what information it is filled with. He looks at me for approval and I nod. The kid looks confused for a bit before my husband sits back down.
"What is that?" Izuku asks as he peaks his head over towards the coffee table. My husband smiles and explains it to the kid.
"Well, these are pamphlets and packets of therapy offices and therapists, general information. We figured we could look over them to maybe help you with these episodes you've been getting. We also thought it'd help us figure out other ways to help you based on what you need." Izuku nods. He smiles.
"Would you feel okay to do that now? It's okay if you don't." I offer. He nods. He scoots closer to us.
"So if you feel uncomfortable with one of them or something you let us know. If one of them sounds good you let us know. Okay?" He nods at my question. We open the binder and pull out a random business card, along with an information sheet. It reads:
Male
24 years old
I got my education from a local college in Tokyo, Japan.
I mostly work with younger people.
I'm not the best with diagnostics and I'm not the best with complex trauma.
I consult parents before doing anything and always consider their opinion.
I will be honest.
Call my office at 671-365-8290.
"Izuku, does that sound alright? If it doesn't, that's fine. You might not be okay on the first try." I assure him. I sense his hesitation about saying yes.
"I-I just don't know if I'd feel comfortable sitting alone in a room with a man I don't know. A-and what if I do have complex trauma? What if he can't fix what's happening and makes it worse? What I-" I cut him off as panic fills his eyes.
"Then we don't go with him. It's okay kiddo." I assure him. He takes a deep breath.
"Is there anything we should know? Do you maybe want someone who does virtual, or something else?" I put a hand on his back. It rubs soft and gentle circles on his back.
"M-maybe I would feel more comfortable if it was a girl. A-and if you guys were i-in the room." My husband nods and smiles. I nod and flip through some pages. Eventually I find one that reads:
Woman
31 years old
I work well with most age groups.
I mostly work with trauma victims and survivors.
I got my major in child psychology at Penn University, America.
I got a second degree in general psychology also at a Tokyo community college.
Any person(s) can accompany the person into the office, it's relatively large. (Especially adults)
I do run diagnostics if needed and I can prescribe medication.
Call my office at 723-827-0018!
I hand it to Izuku, who reads it over.
"Does that sound good?" He nods and a smile breaks onto my face.
The kid will get better.
2,882 words total! Have a good day! Or nothing. I won't do anything, just have a good day because you deserve it. (You're not safe forever though.) Thanks for reading, commenting, voting, etc! I truly do appreciate it!
(None of these phone numbers are real, as far as I know at least!)