Chapter Text
Morning came both too quickly and too slowly for Hitoshi’s liking. Unable to quiet his mind for even a second, he’d lain awake on the futon between the two beds until the sun was high enough that its light touched the floor and he could justify getting out of bed.
Mei woke up soon after, fussy and needing the bathroom. Hitoshi took her before getting her dressed in something that vaguely resembled day clothes. Haru and Aiko weren’t far behind, though Haru was sleepy enough that he needed a little prodding to fully wake up.
“You can have jam on your toast this morning,” Hitoshi promised, smoothing Haru’s hair back from his face.
The kid’s eyes shot open and Hitoshi had to resist the urge to laugh. “Really?”
“Yep.” Hitoshi had spotted the large jar on top of the fridge when he went to get a glass of water before bed. He had no idea what the food rules here were, but he knew his teachers well enough to know that they wouldn’t deny a five year old jam on his toast.
Aiko was waiting anxiously near the door, her clothes bundled in her arms.
“Let’s all go together to the bathroom,” Hitoshi suggested, digging through his bag for the plastic bag that held their toothbrushes. “We all need to brush our teeth.”
Aiko’s shoulders relaxed marginally and Hitoshi knew that was what she had been waiting for.
Together, the four of them trekked down the hallway to the bathroom. Hitoshi could hear Aizawa and Hizashi in the kitchen, but he ignored them for now in favor of putting toothpaste on Haru and Mei’s brushes.
“Come here,” he said, beckoning the two younger ones out of the bathroom. “Let’s let Aiko use the bathroom while we brush our teeth.”
“What if we need to spit?” Haru asked, looking comically concerned over such a small problem.
“Aiko won’t take that long,” Hitoshi reassured him. As he ushered the younger two out into the hall, he heard Aiko lock the door behind her.
They sat together in the hall, Mei on Hitoshi’s lap while he helped her brush her teeth. Quietly, almost under his breath, he sang the toothbrushing song Haru insisted on. He hadn’t missed the way his teacher’s voices had quieted when they’d hear him in the hallway and he couldn’t say he was exactly keen on them hearing him sing.
After a few minutes, Aiko opened the door. Hitoshi looked up from the floor, expecting to see her at least a little happier. Instead, he was met with wet eyes.
She tugged at her hair in frustration, at the half-knotted braid she’d clearly tried her best at. “I can’t do it,” she said tearfully.
“It’s okay,” Hitoshi said, hefting Mei off of his lap and onto her feet. “Do you want me to do it?”
Aiko sniffed and nodded, holding out her hairbrush.
“Just a second,” he said, sliding past Aiko to lift Mei then Haru up to the sink to spit.
“Let’s go to the kitchen,” Hitoshi suggested, taking the hairbrush from Aiko and pulling her into a one-armed hug. “We can get a bite to eat and you can sit in a chair so I can do your hair more easily.”
“Okay,” Aiko said miserably. “Then will you tell us what’s gonna happen?”
Hitoshi’s stomach tightened at her resigned tone. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I’ll fill you guys in.”
“I want jam,” Haru reminded him, tugging at the hem of Hitoshi’s shirt.
“Jam,” Hitoshi repeated. “Right.”
After detouring back to the bedroom to drop their belongings off, Hitoshi guided them to the kitchen, Aiko still tucked under his arm and Mei holding his free hand.
They were greeted by both of Hitoshi’s teachers.
“Good morning, little listeners!” Hitoshi was grateful Hizashi kept his voice at a reasonable volume. Even so, Aiko flinched and pressed a little closer to Hitoshi.
“Is it okay if the kids have toast for breakfast?” Hitoshi asked, making eye contact with Aizawa. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Hizashi, but his mentor he knew was okay with him asking questions.
“Of course,” Aizawa said, standing from his chair. “You too?”
“Uh, I guess.” Hitoshi hadn’t really thought about it. But he couldn’t deny that food sounded pretty good right about now. His stomach had been growling all night. “Can the kids have some jam with it too?”
“Sure. You want coffee?”
Hitoshi nodded gratefully. He hoisted Mei into the chair next to where Haru had clambered up to sit. Aiko sat in the last chair at the table and he positioned himself behind her and gathered her hair in his hands.
It had become something of a routine for them, Hitoshi brushing and braiding Aiko’s hair in the morning before he dropped Mei off at day-care on his way to school. Hitoshi hated that Aiko had to be responsible for getting herself and Haru to the bus stop each morning, but by taking a few minutes to care for her hair, Hitoshi hoped he was paying her back at least a little. He wasn’t very good at it and he couldn’t do anything fancy, but she always seemed happy with the neat, albeit crooked, plait he managed to pull off.
A few minutes later, Aizawa slid a plate with four pieces of jam-spread toast onto the table. All three kids went after it.
As Hitoshi tied off Aiko’s braid, Aizawa motioned to the chair he’d been sitting in previously.
“It’s fine,” Hitoshi mumbled, shaking his head. With one hand, he scooped Mei up, taking her seat and settling her on his lap.
Aizawa just shrugged and set a mug of coffee in front of him. “Suit yourself.” He raised his brow and looked pointedly at the one piece of toast that remained on the plate. “Eat.”
Hitoshi did. It tasted dry, but he knew that didn’t have anything to do with the toast; it had to do with the question Aiko asked the moment he took a bite.
“Are you gonna tell us now?”
Hitoshi chewed his bite slowly, hoping that somehow between his bite and his swallow, Aiko would forget she’d asked anything at all. But Hitoshi had never had that kind of luck, so finally, he swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.”
He could feel Aiko’s eyes on him, bright and focused. Haru was looking at him too. He avoided their gazes and squeezed Mei a little tighter in his lap.
“There’s a new home,” he began, and he didn’t need to look to know that both Haru and Aiko had gone very, very still. “Two moms. My teachers know them. It’s…” He took a deep breath. “It’s close to here. Only ten minutes away on the train.”
Aiko caught what he wasn’t saying. Of course she did; she was too smart for her own good. Hitoshi half-wished she wouldn’t ask the question, but he didn’t know how to break it to the kids that they were going without him if she didn’t just ask.
Aiko was unblinking. “Why does that matter?”
Hitoshi hesitated. “Because I’m not going with you.”
Haru and Aiko erupted into protests.
He held up a hand, swallowing past the lump in his throat. Even Mei had begun to whine, upset at the sight of fresh tears painting Haru’s cheeks.
“Stop,” Hitoshi said firmly. “I know you’re upset, but this isn’t goodbye.”
“You promised!” Haru said fiercely. His toast sat, half-eaten, on the plate. He still had jam on his lip and Hitoshi ached to wipe it away. He didn’t. “You promised we would always be together!”
“I’m not breaking that promise,” Hitoshi said. He wanted to yell too, wanted to match his little brother in emotion, but he couldn’t. He was the adult here. (He was pointedly ignoring the two actual adults in the room.) “I’m going to have weekly visits with you. Maybe more. But I need to stay here.”
“Why?” Haru demanded.
“Because.” Hitoshi didn’t really have an answer. He tried his best. “Because these are my teachers and if I stay here, I can become a hero.”
“Really?” Haru’s eyes were still shiny with tears, but they weren’t falling anymore.
Hitoshi swallowed. “I think so.” He didn’t say anything about the reasons Aizawa had given for Hitoshi staying with them. Thinking about his own needs was overwhelming enough on its own; he didn’t know how to explain to his siblings that maybe— just maybe— he needed someone to take care of him too.
Aiko had been eerily silent for nearly this entire exchange. When she did speak, it was quiet. “You said there’s two moms?”
Hitoshi nodded, relieved at the change in subject.
“That means there’s no dad.”
“Yep.”
“Are there any older brothers? Not like you,” she added quickly.
He smiled at her, though it sent a pang through his chest. “It’s okay. And no,” he confirmed. “No other kids. It’s just you and the moms.”
Aiko nodded, looking thoughtful. “Okay,” she said, and she gave Haru a firm little smile. “It sounds good.”
He made eye contact with Aiko and he hoped she recognized his silent message:
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Without her confidence and calm, he knew Haru and Mei would struggle that much more during the adjustment process. As heartbreaking as it was that Aiko had to understand that at such a young age, he was grateful for it.
He shifted his tight smile from her to Haru then back again. Mei was starting to squirm in his lap. “Any more questions?”
Aiko blinked up at him. “When do we leave?”
That one he couldn’t answer. He looked to Aizawa.
“Any time after noon,” his teacher answered, speaking in that gentle tone that Hitoshi still found so strange from him. It was for the kid’s benefit, Hitoshi knew, but he couldn’t help the small tug in his heart that wished it could be for him too. “But it’s up to you.”
It was nine o’clock now. Best for everyone not to draw it out.
“Is one okay?”
“Of course.”
All right. That gave him four hours.
He waved at the table, where Aiko’s, Haru’s, and his own toast lay forgotten. He was pretty sure his coffee was cold. “Eat up. It’s moving day.”
***
Yua and Hina were as nice as Hizashi had said they would be.
That almost made it worse. Hitoshi half-wished he could just hate them. It would have been easier if they were awful— if they were just copy-pasted versions of the kinds of parents Hitoshi had grown used to over the years.
But they weren’t. They were sweet and kind and thoughtful. They’d already charmed Haru and Mei, and Aiko was well on her way too after seeing Hina’s intricate braid. He wasn’t about to admit it, but Hitoshi liked them as well. He liked the gentle way they spoke to the kids, but more than that, he liked the way they listened.
It had been over an hour since they’d arrived at the new house and at this point, Hitoshi was just stalling. He wasn’t ready to leave yet. He didn’t think he could handle saying goodbye.
But as Aizawa kept reminding him, it wasn’t goodbye forever. Besides, Hitoshi reasoned, it wouldn’t do the kids any good to draw this out more.
He steeled himself before waving the kids over and dropping to a crouch in front of them.
“Hey, huddle up.”
Like members of a herd, Aiko, Haru, and Mei gathered around him. Mei clung to his knee with both of her little hands and Hitoshi had to take a deep breath to avoid tears gathering in his eyes.
“Do you remember what we talked about this morning?” He made eye contact with each of them, even though it sent a sharp spike of pain through his chest.
“You’re not staying here with us,” Haru said. He still looked upset. Aiko looked pained. Mei looked confused. Hitoshi couldn’t decide which one hurt the worst.
“But…” Tears were brimming in Mei’s eyes. “Tuck me in?”
Hitoshi covered her hand with one of his own and, with his other, cupped her round cheek. Gently, he said, “I’m not going to be able to tuck you in every night now. But Hina and Yua will be here to do that, and Aiko can help too. Besides—” He gave her a tight smile. “I’ll be tucking you in in my heart every night.”
Mei still looked upset, but when she reached to touch Hitoshi’s chest, where his heart beat an unsteady rhythm against her little fingers, she gave a watery smile. “Here?”
He swallowed and enveloped her hand with his. His voice was thick as he repeated, “Here.”
He looked to the others and hoped that his steady expression conveyed more confidence than he really felt. “Things are changing, but it’s going to be better. I promise.”
“Nothing’s better than you,” Aiko said. She was obviously trying to keep a brave face, but Hitoshi didn’t miss the way her bottom lip trembled as she spoke.
“You’re going to be fine,” he promised. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“What if we get moved?” Haru’s voice was wobbly. “And they don’t tell you? What if you can’t find us?”
Hitoshi knew that fear all too well. As unreasonable as it was, he held it in his heart too.
But he knew better and he needed Haru to know too. “That won’t happen.”
“How do you know?” This came from Aiko.
“It won’t,” he said firmly. He looked her in the eye. “I promise. Do you remember what happened the last time someone tried to move you?”
He knew she did. Neither one of them were likely to forget it any time soon.
In one of the rare instances their foster parents had been home for long enough to notice, Aiko’s night terrors had kicked up, both in intensity and in frequency. Their foster mother had put up a fuss about it, claiming that Aiko was “disturbing the household," and she’d threatened to have her rehomed. Hitoshi had panicked. Before he could think of a better plan, he’d brainwashed her and scrubbed her memory clean of any problems she had with Aiko.
Fortunately for him, his foster mother had been too high to remember the incident, but the guilt still ate away at him to this day. The only thing that kept him from succumbing to his conviction that he was now truly a villain was the knowledge that because of his actions, Aiko was safe. Because of the choice he’d made, their family was as whole as it could get.
“I’ll fight for you.” This was as close to a vow as Hitoshi could get. “I will always fight for you.”
He knew the kid’s didn’t understand it in the way he meant it, but that was okay with him. It was an oath he kept with himself: I’ll fight for you, is what he told them. What he meant was, I would do anything for you. I want to be a hero, but if you need me to be a villain, I won’t hesitate.
He wasn’t a good kid, not like Aizawa thought he was. He was a survivor, and unfortunately, that meant he’d done plenty of things a good kid wouldn’t do.
“I love you,” Haru said, and Hitoshi nearly broke down then and there.
“I love you too,” he whispered. His throat was painfully tight and his heart ached, worse than he’d ever thought it could. “I love all of you.”
He opened his arms and, like a reflex, they piled into his space. He closed his eyes and tried to memorize the sensation. He was going to miss this— the casual invasion, the staking their claims of his love with their little hands. How was he ever supposed to feel warm again when his kids were out of his arms?
But he was being stupid. He was going to see them next week. It didn’t matter that they wouldn’t be crawling into his bed anymore, latching themselves to him like baby raccoons on their mother’s back, arguing with each other over who got to be next to him. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. Because if it did, Hitoshi was going to break.
“All right,” he said, easing them away too soon. The places where they held him ached like he’d been bruised. “It’s time for me to go.”
They were too quiet as he pulled away. He half-wished one of them would throw a fit, would act like a normal, untraumatized kid, but he knew that was too much to hope for. Instead, they watched him silently as he stood and made his way back over to where his teachers were conversing quietly with Hina and Yua. He knew they’d been listening to his conversation with the kids, but he tried not to care.
“Okay,” he said, shoving his hands into his pocket and roughing up his voice so the emotion didn’t leak through. “We can go.”
“Are you su—”
“Yes,” he said, too sharply. It wasn’t an appropriate tone to take with his teacher, but Aizawa didn’t seem to care.
“All right,” he said, though Hitoshi didn’t miss the way he made eye contact with Hizashi. “Hizashi, do you want to go start the car?”
Hitoshi recognized that for what it was: accountability. A real, tangible reason to leave. Aizawa was fucking good— Hitoshi hated him for it.
“Of course.” As Hizashi passed behind him, his hand brushed Hitoshi’s shoulder in what was clearly supposed to be a comforting gesture. Hitoshi couldn’t help the way his skin crawled.
Then Hitoshi remembered something more important than his own discomfort.
“I meant to tell you,” he said, turning to look at Hina and Yua. “If Aiko has a nightmare, you can’t touch her. It’ll only scare her more.” He should have written this all down. Why hadn’t he written it down? “And Haru’s been having a hard time at school, especially when it comes to reading. His counselor suggested he be tested for dyslexia, but our old foster parents never responded to the letter. I tried, but the school required a meeting with a guardian. So that should be handled. Please,” he added belatedly.
“Of course,” Hina said warmly. “You’re a good brother to them, Shinsou. They’re lucky to have you.”
Hitoshi didn’t know what to say to that. So he just moved on.
“Mei’s quirk hasn’t officially come in yet, but from what I’ve seen, it looks like it’ll be along the lines of a telekinetic quirk like Haru’s.”
“Hitoshi.” Aizawa’s voice was low behind him. A gentle reminder. Hitoshi hated it.
“I know,” he said, strained. “Just— if there’s any problems…” He trailed off. There was nowhere else to go but out the door. He wanted to keep talking.
Hina’s eyes were kind as she said, “If anything comes up that we can’t handle, you’ll be the first to know. And if you have anything else you’d like to tell us, or if you’d just like to talk to the kids, you can always call.”
Hitoshi nodded. His jaw was clenched tight enough to hurt. He could feel the kids’ eyes on him as he moved numbly towards the front door. He took too long in putting on his shoes— his fingers were tingling like he’d fallen asleep on them and eventually, he gave up on trying to tie his laces and just tucked them into his shoes instead.
Three little faces watched him solemnly as he stood. He gave them a smile he couldn’t even feel. Then he walked out the door.
As he slid into the backseat of the car, Hizashi turned around to look at him.
“Are you all right?” he asked, reaching from the driver’s seat to pat Hitoshi’s knee.
“I’m fine,” Hitoshi snapped, jerking away from Hizashi’s comforting touch. All of his sorrow was freezing into icicles, turned outwards like some spiked, medieval weapon.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” Hizashi said softly. Aizawa had settled in the passenger’s seat and was watching Hitoshi impassively in the reflection of the window.
“Don’t.” Hitoshi’s shoulders were hunched, like the stiffness of his body alone could stave off the tears. “I’m not gonna cry about this. I’m gonna see them next fucking week.”
One of these days, he needed to stop cursing around his teachers. Today was not that day.
“It’s okay to cry,” Aizawa said, and wasn’t that just rich coming from him?
“Like I’ve ever seen you express any emotion other than exhaustion,” Hitoshi snapped thoughtlessly.
He was met with silence. Then Aizawa snorted and Hizashi barked out a surprised laugh.
Hitoshi hunched his shoulders and buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his face hot. Shame was quickly overtaking his devastation.
“It’s fine, kid.” Aizawa sounded relaxed. Hitoshi took that as permission to relax a bit himself.
Hizashi’s persistently-cheerful voice lifted again to ask, “What do you want to do now?”
Hitoshi blinked. Floundered. What was he supposed to want to do? Empty time wasn’t a commodity he was used to having, and he had absolutely no idea how to fill it.
Fortunately, Aizawa seemed to notice his struggle and gave him some options.
“We can go home,” his teacher offered. “Or we can go get some lunch. We can stop by the store too if there’s anything you need.”
Choices, Hitoshi could handle. “Home, please.” The word tasted strange in his mouth.
“All right,” Hizashi said, shifting the car into gear. “Home it is.”
Hitoshi sank back into his seat and tried to forget that anything had changed at all. But all he could feel was the once-warm spots where his siblings had held him going cold.