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Sometimes, Shouta comes to school silent. His steps are lighter and will only communicate in nods, or the occasional sign-language he is learning from Hizashi; who knows it was only a matter of time with his quirk that he will lose some (if not all) of his hearing.
On these days, Hizashi talks too much to fill the silence, and if Oboro is there, they’ll chatter away anxiously all day long, throwing one another glances that they think Shouta doesn’t see.
“Shouta, you good?” Hizashi asks tentatively.
He’ll shrug and go back to napping during lunch, or scrawling in his class notes, clearly avoiding their gazes.
But Hizashi keeps talking, because what else was he supposed to do? Shouta comes back the next day back to his mumbling self, acting like nothing happened.
So they follow his lead.
Hizashi can’t very well do that now, 20 years later. Not when Shouta is sitting propped up in bed, contemplating his hands, not answering any of the remarks Hizashi throws at him. Not at all like their usual back and forth morning banter.
But Shouta did respond with the occasional sign.
He hasn’t been like this since… Hizashi thinks, since the really bad days after they lost-
“What’s going on this morning, Sho?” Hizashi cuts off his own thoughts and tries to keep his tone light.
‘Tired.’ Shota signs.
Hizashi, who is currently wrestling his hair into his signature swoop, can’t sign back so he calls, “do you want to take today off?”
He only gets a head shake in response.
“What about… teaching… I mean if you don’t feel like speaking-”
Shouta stiffens and shakes his head, signing, ‘at least three kids know JSL, I’ll have one translate.’
Stubborn Sho, Hizashi thinks.
“But-”
‘Stop, I’m fine,’ Aizawa replies.
Sighing, Hizashi says, “Well, can you at least tell me what triggered it?”
He knows he’s being pushy, but he wants to try and avoid making today worse than it already will be for Shouta.
Shouta pauses for so long that Hizashi thinks he won’t respond but he finally signs one word.
‘Flashback.’
“In your sleep?”
Shouta shakes his head, ‘on patrol.’
“Since last night!” Hizashi shrikes and Shouta flinches, so he forcefully quiets himself when he replies, “Sho, why didn’t you wake me up when you got back? Or call me?”
Shouta shrugs, like he honestly doesn’t know why he pushes himself away from his husband when he’s going through something. He’s done it during their second year of high school, during USJ only months ago, and again after Bakugou was kidnapped.
“Honey…” Hizashi abandons his hair for a moment to stride over and crawl on the bed in front of Shouta. He places a hand on his shoulder, “your shoulders must be sore from carrying all this around by yourself.”
A faint smile twitches at Shouta’s lip and Hizashi glows.
Does he know his husband, or does he know his husband?
“I can rub them for you, or I could take a load off of ‘em.”
Shouta thinks, but ends up shaking his head with a simple, ‘can’t talk about it, I’ll be okay.’
“And if something triggers you today, when you’re not feeling well already?”
He gets a glare from the Erasure hero at that. His Sho hates being perceived as weak in any way.
‘I’ll be fine’ Shouta signs with more sharpness to his motions, shaking Hizashi’s hand off of his shoulder and stumbling out of bed, signing ‘we’re leaving in 10. Is Eri up yet?’
Hizashi sighs, “yeah she’s just finishing breakfast.”
He’ll just have to find a way to keep an eye on Shouta at school today. Maybe he can offer to guest teach a lecture for homeroom. He could translate for Shouta that way too.
When he brings it up to Shouta, he shrugs, signing, ‘whatever, I’ll be sleeping and they can study.’ He grabs his sleeping bag hanging on the back of their bedroom door to make his point.
“Daddy, Papa! Am I going to see Mirio today?” Eri comes bursting into their bedroom, colliding with the soft part of Shouta’s sleeping bag. He catches her gracefully and Hizashi chuckles, “yes, little listener! Third years have the day off so we’re taking you over to the third-year dorms. Did you finish breakfast?”
“Mhm!” Eri nods, “Daddy, can you tie my shoes?”
Shouta nods and sinks to his knees with an audible crack and pop from his joints. Hizashi, who is watching the pair, doesn’t miss the clenched jaw and the way Shouta’s breath pulls in for a half-second.
Must be another high pain day for Sho, Hizashi muses. Shouta laces Eri’s light-up sneakers swiftly and Hizashi is there to offer his husband a hand up, which he ( typically) refuses.
“Daddy?” Eri asks, gazing up at him with those big eyes.
He tilts his head to the side to show he’s listening.
“Can you pick me up today from Lemillions or do you have to go on patrol?”
Shouta hesitates and glances at Hizashi before signing, ‘I can pick you up.’
Eri shoots Hizashi a questioning look, “Sorry daddy, I only know a little sigh language.”
Hizashi chuckles and crouches down beside Eri with a little more grace than his husband, “It’s called sign language. And daddy isn’t feeling like talking today, so I’ll just translate for you, okay?”
Eri frowns, looking up at Aizawa with a little too much understanding for a kid this young, in Hizashi’s opinion, “He said he can pick you up today!”
“Okay, daddy… Sorry.”
They both frown at her apology and Hizashi replies, “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about, Eri.”
She fidgets with her hands and mumbles, “I used to feel like that sometimes too, daddy. When… when he would say mean things to me and tell me to be quiet…”
A vice grips around Hizashi’s throat and leans in to pull Eri into a hug, still on his knees. She grips him tightly and Hizashi makes eye contact with Shouta over her shoulder. His husband, who is usually an expert in keeping a neutral expression, looks stricken. Hizashi wants to cry. The look is gone before Hizashi can really guess why Shouta looks so pained. (Well, he can guess, since his daughter is talking about Overhaul, but Shouta is usually good at keeping those feelings off his face when around Eri.)
Eri squirms from his grip and smiles softly up at the both of them, then says, “let's go see Lemillion! He and Tamaki always make SUCH good snacks!”
And of course, Eri’s mind is back on snacks. Hizashi lets out one of his colorful laughs created by his quirk and he sees Shouta smile lightly at that before sulking to the bathroom to get changed.
Hizashi helps Eri into her coat and hat, then slips on his hero jacket. The leather squeaking as he bends over to snatch his keys from the cat-patterned dish by the door. Shouta walks out in his usual hero costume, capture weapon slung around his neck and his hair tied in a low pony. Clearly he couldn't handle the hair on his face today, since Sho never wears his hair up to school.
He watches his husband squint against the bright morning sun, Eri babbling away as they make their way from the teachers dorm to the adjacent student dorm rooms. Once they drop Eri off with her lunch, a check for Mirio, and a promise to pick her up after school, they head to the looming building across campus. It’s quiet this early in the morning, since Shouta likes getting to school early enough to catch a nap and then a too-large cup of coffee. Hizashi notices that Shouta’s shoulders are slumping more than usual, and he couldn’t have slept for more than 2 hours last night given how late he got in and if he was still suffering from his flashback…
Hizashi pushes the thought away and focuses on what he can do, and that’s to get Shouta some breakfast in the teachers lounge and make sure he drinks some damn water for a change. For now, he can only slink behind his husband, caring for him at the respectful distance they maintain at school. Only Nezu, Midnight, and All-Might know they’re married afterall, and since Shouta is an underground hero, they have a strict no-PDA policy in public.
A tap on his shoulder brings Hizashi back to the courtyard, with an early sun spilling across the cobblestones.
‘We need to teach Eri more sign language.’
“I know, we’ve been bad at that. We can do weekend lessons. She’s a smart kid, I’m sure she’ll pick it up fast.”
‘Hitoshi learned it in about 5 months’
“Yeah, that kid is impressive.” Hizashi beams, “you’ve been doing good work with him.”
Shouta merely rolls his eyes, skillfully dodging the complement.
They key-in to the front doors and Shouta makes a beeline for the teacher’s lounge, where the coffee sits, ready to be made. Hizashi watches his hands go through the motions, placing the filter in with shaking hands. Hizashi walks loudly over to him, knowing when Shouta is this tired, he’s jumpy as hell. Hizashi fishes a bottle of water out of his bag and says, “I’ll do it, you go sit down and drink this entire thing.”
Shouta throws his husband a glare, but compiles and Hizashi celebrates that at least.
Silence in the room isn’t unusual for the two of them this early, Shouta is usually mumbly no matter the time of day, but today the silence drapes Hizashi in an uncomfortable dread. He has no idea what to say. He never knew what to say to Shouta on days like this. Oboro was the one who took the lead that Hizashi blindly followed. When things were hard for Sho, Hizashi would talk and eventually get what he needed from him, but he couldn't reach him like this.
So he talks to fill the stiff silence, his voice brushing away the cobwebs and airing out the room. He talks about people on his radio show who criticize Endevor and how much he wants to agree with them, he tells him about Kiminari’s improving English grades, and Momo’s attempt to take him down in last week’s exercise training.
He turns with a cup of coffee in his hands, to see that Shouta has drained the water bottle and is watching him with a sleepy, loving gaze. It shocks Hizashi into silence because this is Shouta with his walls down, being caught in the act of looking like he cared. His usual scowl returns but Hizashi sees the gratitude in his eyes even as he signs, ‘give me the coffee before I keel over.’
Hizashi laughs and says, “only if you promise to drink three water bottles today!”
‘Hizashi’
He sets the coffee mug on the table and Shouta makes a grateful grab for it, sinking into the steam of the mug and settling further in his chair. Hizashi sits across from him, opening two breakfast bars and handing one to Shouta and cramming the other in his mouth.
Hizashi watches Shouta fall asleep sitting up.
The staff files in about ten minutes later, and Shouta hurriedly awakes, nudging his half-eaten breakfast bar away.
The door slams open to the sight of Slight Might, sorry, Deflate Mate, sorry, Small Might, sorry, All Might entering the room in his usual atrocious striped suit. That man has no fashion sense at all.
Shouta goes pale and Hizashi knows why. All Might loves talking to Shouta, trying to gain the teachers trust and respect, like he was always fishing for in the public. Hizashi isn’t going to make his husband more uncomfortable, so he steps between them and says, “Yo Yagi! You get here alright?” and steers him away from his sulking husband. Yagi and him chat idly for a moment and when he turns Aizawa already left, the corner of his bright sleeping bag sweeping around the corner.
Hizashi excuses himself after another painstaking five minutes. He sweeps the half-eaten bar into the trash before following Shouta to his homeroom.
_____
The ache in the back of Aizawa’s skull only increases the moment students start filing into class. He is already in his sleeping bag when Hizashi arrives and he glances up at him through sore eyes. The one above his scar gives a painful throb and for a moment Shouta’s face is hitting the concrete, then slamming into a carpeted floor, then looking up into Hizashi’s pained face again.
All in the space of three seconds. Wonderful.
He waits until the last set of feet takes their seat to crawl out of his fluffy sanctuary and gather up his pile of aching bones that he calls a body. Hizashi holds out a hand to him but Aizawa ignores it and heaves himself up on his own. He’s not going to look weak in front of his students. He’s done that enough this year.
“Good Morning young listeners!” Aizawa flinches at the bright tint of Hizashi’s voice. It’s an odd combination of cringy and comforting, “I am here to translate for Aizawa-Sensei today as he-”
‘Lost my voice due to a quirk.’ Aizawa quickly lies.
“Lost his voice to a quirk,” Hizashi doesn’t skip a beat, “how many of you know Japanese Sign Language?”
Bakugo, Midoriya, Iida, Koda, Jirou, and Todoroki raise their hands. More than Aizawa thought.
“Alright, that’s a good amount! The rest of you, this may be something useful to pick up. I don’t know how many of you know, but I am 90% deaf, so without these beauties-” he taps his hearing aids, “I can’t hear basically at all. Many people’s quirks, if they’re loud, may have that effect-” Aizawa’s eyes scan to Bakugo and Jirou who are nodding in grim understanding. “So, today I am going to be doing a guest lecture on disabled heroes!”
Aizawa puffs out a breath, ‘Mic. You can just let them study.’
“Just let them study? And pass up this opportunity to teach them something this important?!”
Iida’s hand shoots into the air, and Hizashi eagerly calls on him.
“Sir! I think it’s a great idea to teach us about disabled heroes! My brother is one and though he can no longer be in the field, he still works for his agency. And not many people are aware of the daily struggles or triumphs.”
“Well said!” Hizashi replies, though others groan at the thought of not having a free study period.
Aizawa watches them exasperatedly, before sinking back onto the floor and into his sleeping bag. He signs, ‘behave yourself for Mic-Sensei or I’ll kick you out of class’ before zipping the bag as far up as it would go.
He barely hears Hizashi translate him, the sound of his husband’s voice sending him into the titling twilight between sleep and wakefulness.
But no matter how tired he is, sleep never fully sweeps over him. Every sound, every pitch of Hizashi’s voice, or scrape of a chair jolts him out of the cotton of sleep. He’s still hypervigilant from last night, that much he can tell. He has to keep blinking away the foggy figure that looks so much like that man from his past. He yanks himself back to the present, to the comfortable warmth of his sleeping bag against the unforgiving tile of the floor.
After three more tries at sleep with no luck, Aizawa crawls out of his bag with as much grace as a newborn calf. He gets onto his aching legs and sits at his desk, hauling out tests to grade, avoiding Hizashi’s concerned gaze all the while.
_____
Aizawa spends lunch hunched in the corner of an empty classroom, sleeping bag tucked around him, and feigning sleep when Hizashi peeks his head in.
“C’mon Sho, you’re never that grumpy-looking in your sleep. I know you’re faking.”
Aizawa cracks open an eye and shoots his husband a glare. From Hizashi’s lack of trembling, he’s not that frightened by one tired eye.
“Why don’t you sleep on the couch in the teacher’s lounge? You clearly aren’t sleeping well, so it may be more comfortable there.”
Aizawa shakes his head, stomach curling at the thought of meeting his fellow staff and explaining this… weakness.
“How about taking a half day? Yagi can take your practical this afternoon.”
‘No, I can finish out the day.’
Hizashi eyes him with that knowing gaze and Shouta feels pinned.
“You shouldn’t have to.” Hizashi replies, reaching out for his hand, which Aizawa takes a moment later.
‘it’s just my voice, I’m fine.’
“Oh, so you’re not sleeping even though you’re exhausted because you’re fine.”
Aizawa puffs out a silent breath, ‘what do you want me to say?’
“That you need help! That you want some time off! That you deserve a day of self-care after a traumatic night!” Hizashi fires off, voice building in pitch.
Aizawa hides his flinch because he knows Hizashi is shouting out of fear and frustration but he also knows that someone is shouting at him and that means he’s in trouble with him–
But Hizashi sees the fear in his eyes anyway and apologizes. He wants to reassure him that he’s fine, but there’s cold sweat on his brow and a growl in his head yelling, don’t you fucking dare say a word! He will hurt you! He will use his quirk on you, don’t let him take away your voice, dumbass!
So he strangles any noise that could come out. His hands are shaking as he signs, ‘I can’t ask for that. I wouldn’t let myself relax when there’s things I have to do.’
“Then what if I help you?” Hizashi asks, hope dawning behind the yellow tint of his ridiculous glasses.
He thinks this over, knowing he can’t teach like this; not when he can barely stand, can’t speak, and there’s a demon lurking behind his eyes.
So he nods, hangs his hair behind his eyes, and admits defeat.
_____
Hizashi is equal parts thrilled and worried by Aizawa’s ease of giving in to his request to take him home early. He’d once had an hour-long argument about not sending Aizawa in to teach with an 102℉ fever.
They decide to pick up Eri early and the glimmer in her eyes is enough for Souta to shrug on a tired smile.
“How was your day, little listener?” Hizashi asks, keeping tight control on his voice, but alas, Shouta still winces.
Hizashi can add noise-sensitivity to the list of his husbands symptoms.
“It was fun but I was worried about Daddy!” Eri looks up at Shouta, “is that why we’re going home early today?”
To save Aizawa the embarrassment Hizashi nods and says, “we all kinda needed a half-day. Everything has been kinda stressful.”
Eri nods in agreement, clearly remembering her uptick in nightmares since the year anniversary of her rescue was coming up.
Shouta keeps his gaze on his feet as they walk back to the teachers dorm, but Hizashi still glimpses his clenched jaw behind his convenient hair curtain.
So Hizashi signs, ‘are you in pain?’
‘Elbow’ Shouta responds.
Geez, every one of Shouta’s symptoms are coming up today.
Eri glances between the two of them, “Daddy’s elbow is hurting again?”
Hizashi’s jaw drops and he shrieks gleefully, “did you read our sign language, Eri-chan?”
“Papa. Daddy pointed at his elbow.” Eri reminds him, shaking her head like it’s obvious.
Shouta’s eyes snap to her concerned gaze and his face softens. He reaches out and pats her on the head.
When they get home, Shouta goes to shrug off his uniform and Hizashi follows him, saying “I’m calling you out of patrol tonight.”
Shouta turns around and signs, ‘ no, I can still go. Don’t baby me.’
Hizashi scoffs and signs back, ‘I’m your husband and I know when you’re at your limit. I’m not babying you.’
Aizawa lets out a low huff, ‘I can’t just shirk my responsibility,’
Hizashi signs back furisoulty, ‘you aren’t feeling well, give yourself a break!’
‘Zashi’ Shouta looks so damn tired and Hizashi can nearly hear the exasperated tone he usually uses.
‘Imagine I’m feeling like you right now, would you make me go on patrol?’
This makes Shouta freeze and drop his hands to his sides. Hizashi’s victory feels hollow.
‘Fine. But only tonight.’
So Hizashi calls Aizawa out for patrol.
Aizawa gets into the shower while Hizashi and Eri make a late lunch. Hizashi helps Eri onto a chair so she can help him shape the rice balls.
“Papa? Can we make a blanket fort today? Daddy might be able to sleep if it’s dark and quiet.” Eri, perceptive and kind Eri, points out.
“I think that’s a great idea!”
If Hizashi could get Shouta to eat and sleep, he may start to slowly coax Shouta out of his head.
That sounds perfect.
Now if he can only convince Shouta of that.
_____
A blanket of steam follows Aizawa out of the bathroom, and to his dresser, to get changed into lounge pants and one of Hizashi’s ACDC sweatshirts. He follows the smell of food into the living room, to see Hizashi and Eri cuddled up on the floor, with a tray of food set out and an elaborate blanket fort surrounding the couch beside them.
“We made you a fort, Daddy!” Eri calls out, jumping up to show the various features.
It’s impressive and has flairs that only his family is capable of. There’s a drawing done by Eri at the entrance that says, “The Magical Fort” and the various bright yellow and black hair ties secure the blankets to chairs and shelves to keep it large enough that two grown men and Eri can fit inside.
Aizawa lowers himself on slightly less-throbbing knees and peers inside the fort’s entrance. There is a plethora of blankets and Shouta spots his hot water bottle in the corner next to Hizashi’s noise-canceling headphones.
He sits beside Eri on a pillow and across from Hizashi’s bright face.
Tears spring in Shouta’s too dry eyes and he turns to look at the two people who put such thought into making him feel safe and cared for.
Their kindness is overwhelming and he signs, ‘Thank you’ and ‘please pass the rice’ as tears burn down his cheeks.