The class is small this year. Even smaller than last year. Aizawa had expected Nezu to call him in and reprimand him for expelling half his class. Though Aizawa had sound reasoning behind every expulsion. It just makes no logical sense to force a child to go through hero training when they obviously have no potential. It's a waste of the school's resources and the child's time. He may be still relatively new as a teacher with only two years of teaching under his belt, but he stands by his theory. It is far better to have a small class of students with high potential, so they can get the individual focus their Quirks need. When he explained this to Nezu at the beginning of his career, the principal had agreed, saying he trusted Aizawa's judgment, but had cautioned to give each expulsion careful thought.
Not all of them were actually expelled though. A couple of the students found that they were much more interested in the support department and he arranged the transfers. Now as he watches his class trying out some of those new inventions he thinks he made a good choice. The class was sparing two-on-two, without using their Quirks. Quite a few of them were getting too dependent on their powers, so this this exercise was their theme of the week. It was far too obvious that until high school they had absolutely no physical training.
Though, it was really rare for kids to come in with any type of practical skills. Aizawa sighs, ducking into his scarf as he thinks. Is it too early to train Hitoshi? His Quirk was similar enough to Aizawa's in that it didn't provide any physical benefits, even if he decided against becoming a hero, knowing how to fight would only benefit him. But, he was only four – but with the wholehearted determination of a child that 'I'm going to be a hero!'. Maybe there's martial arts classes he could enroll him in. With teachers who would have a better idea how to teach small children. He should ask Yamada if his daughter would be interested in them as well. He smiles at the thought of the kids in tiny white uniforms.
This time last year he would have never predicted this. He had been planning to move out of the apartment, the tiny one he and Yamada had been sharing since graduation, and find a place closer to his job teaching at U.A. Maybe get a cat.
Instead he and Yamada were in the midst of looking for a new place together. One with enough room for the little girl Yamada had adopted last year, and Aizawa's nephew that he had taken in after his sister's death. Right now, the kids were sharing Aizawa's old room. He had been sleeping in Yamada's bed with him. (He had stubbornly insisted that he could use his sleeping bag in the living room – he did is as a teen and he could do it again. But Yamada had put his foot down. "We're grown-ass adults, Shocchan, and it's a queen-size bed, there's plenty of room.")
The kids at least deserve their own rooms. At first Yamada had managed to fit Ochaco's bed in his room, but nighttime patrols meant the chance of waking her on his return. So, when Hitoshi came along it was much better for the kids to stay together. They didn't mind now, neither of them had had siblings before, and were practically inseparable. Which is, unfortunately, why they were both home from kindergarten today. Hitoshi had come down with the sniffles, and by the next day Ochaco was sneezing as well. They had been home from school for a couple of days now, even though they were probably no longer contagious.
Aziawa had offered to have a substitute cover his classes so he could stay home with them, he was still basing most of his classes off of the previous teacher's plans. It was easy for one of the other teachers to cover for him, but Yamada had beat him to it. His mid-day radio show had gotten moved to the early mornings, before Aizawa even left for the school, and he had easily found another hero to take over his daytime patrol. It made sense. But Aizawa still felt guilty when he had to had to say goodbye to Hitoshi's watery lavender eyes.
He is distracted from his thoughts by two of the students approaching him. He looks up, Morimoto is fiddling with the scales along her hands, and Aizawa instantly knows what this is about. She's always struggled not to use her sensory scales to predict moves in a fight. He's in the middle of explaining and demonstrating how to not rely on her Quirk when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Usually he'd ignore it. But the first text is quickly followed by three more texts. Which means it's Yamada texting him.
Yamada knows Aizawa is still in the middle of teaching classes, he made sure to print out Aizawa's schedule and keep it on the fridge just for reference. And while Aizawa would like to think he'd only text if it was important, it was just as likely that Yamada was sending him pictures of the kids. After a moment of deliberation, he pulls out his phone, meaning only to glance at the messages and return to teaching.
SHOTA DO NOT PANIC.
SORRY, THAT'S A SURE WAY TO MAKE YOU PANIC.
HITOSHI IS OK. I AM TAKING THE KIDS TO THE HOSPITAL.
WE HAD AN INCIDENT AND I THINK OCHACO'S ARM IS BROKEN.
The first text immediately sends a cold chill down his spine. It isn't much soothed by the following texts, all in caps and without Yamada's trade-mark abundance of emojis and emoticons.
"Takahashi!" He barks, catching the attention of the class rep and startling the students in front of him. She trots over, brow furrowed. "I have to make a phone call, keep an eye on the class, if I'm not back in ten minutes lead them through cool-down stretches."
"Yes, sir!"
Aizawa steps away, far enough that he can keep an eye on them, but out of earshot of the sparring. It takes a couple of rings, far too many, before Yamada answers.
"What happened?"
"Geez, I told you not to panic," Yamada laughs, but his voice sounds strained. Aizawa can hear both of the kids crying. "'Toshi, can you put your shoes on please? Sorry, Shota, I feel terrible. They were taking a nap, so I was working in the other room, and the next thing I know Ochaco is screaming." Yamada sighs and the phone line crackles. "I think what happened was Occhan couldn't cancel her Quirk and 'Toshi was trying to help."
Aizawa could see where this was going. Hitoshi must have tried to help her get down by using his own Quirk. A recipe for disaster when both of their Quirks were too recently developed for them to have any kind of control over them. "Did he tell her to stop floating?"
"I don't know." He sighs, making an absentminded comforting sound to the children. "They're both so upset, I haven't been able to get a clear story from either of them yet. I know it hurts, sweetie, but hold on, we're going to go make it better, okay?" Yamada says, presumably to Ochaco.
"Bring them here," Aizawa says.
"What?"
"Bring her here and let Chiyo take care of her arm."
Yamada lets out a bit of a laugh, disbelieving. "Shotaaa, she's not the only one with a healing quirk."
"Ochaco stills hates doctors and hospitals though, doesn't she?" Aizawa realizes he is pacing and he forces himself to stop and breathe. "The school infirmary isn't as intimidating."
Yamada hesitates in answering, Aizawa can still hear him comforting the kids in a low voice. Their crying had quieted down to whimpers and sniffles. Finally, Yamada says "alright, but ask her first? The school is on the way to the hospital at least."
"I will. I'll meet you in the parking lot either way." He hangs up before Yamada can respond, thinking quickly. They have class with Midnight next period. That would give him time to find a replacement if they do indeed end up having to go to the hospital. He wouldn't make Yamada handle that on his own.
He sees Takahashi looking his way, the rest of the class going through cool-down exercises. He walks back over. She isn't doing much better fighting back her curious look than the rest of the students. "Is everything alright, Sensei?"
"It's a personal issue. Make sure you have time to change back into uniform before your next class." He gives the class a curt nod, dismissing them, and turns on his heel to head back inside the building. Recovery Girl has always had a soft spot for him, even back in his own high school days, and he only feels a little sorry for taking advantage of that favor. He explains his hesitance in taking Ochaco to the hospital, or even a smaller care center, and Shuzenji makes a sympathetic sound. She agrees to tend to the girl, but she warns that using her Quirk on a child so small might knock her out for the rest of the day.
"It takes a lot of energy to heal broken bones, and children that small use up more energy than you'd expect."
Aizawa makes it to the staff parking just as Yamada pulls up to the gate. As soon as the car is parked, he is opening the door to the back. Ochaco is tucked into her car seat, her arm held awkwardly against her, propped up by a pillow from her bed and her plush teddy bear. Her face is red, and her eyes are swollen but she's no longer crying. Hitoshi is curled up tightly in his own car seat looking miserable, he's hugging his own cat plush with watery eyes. He barely looks up when Aizawa lifts him out, immediately burying his face in his scarf when Aizawa pulls him to this chest.
"Hey, Hitoshi," he greets. But Hitoshi shakes his head, clutching his cat tighter and refusing to speak. Aizawa hums in what he hopes is a comforting manner, smoothing his hand down the boy's back as he moves around the car.
Yamada is carefully pulling Ochaco from her seat. Attempting to hold her just so, trying to keep her arm from being jostled. His hair is pulled into a messy ponytail, more hair flying loose than contained. He looks even more exhausted than when Aizawa left him this morning.
"Hey," he shifts Hitoshi, slightly, freeing a hand so he could reach out and gently stroke her hair. "Recovery Girl is going to make it better."
Her lip wobbles and she sniffs harshly, but she doesn't start crying. "It hurts, Daddy."
Aizawa glanced up in time to see the pained expression cross Yamada's face. He was expecting the other man to burst into tears – it usually doesn't take much for him to become emotional. And considering that Aizawa's own chest hurt at Ochaco's little voice, he would've expected Yamada to be bawling right now.
But he manages to hold it together, holding her tighter and kissing her hair. "I know, sweetheart."
The kids are quiet as Aizawa leads them through the school. The halls are mostly empty, nearly everyone in the middle of classes by now but he still takes them past the classrooms he knows are vacant. Yamada is softly singing to Ochaco. Aizawa can't make out the words, but the melody sounds familiar. It's something he sings to kids to calm them down. Hitoshi finally picks his head up from Aizawa's scarf, peering over his shoulder back at Yamada, watching him and Ochaco warily.
"It's okay, 'Toshi," Yamada stops singing to say, his voice still pitched low and soothing. "No one is mad, it was an accident."
Hitoshi hides his face again, even going to far as to attempt to pull some of the heavy strands of Aizawa's scarf over his head. He stays that way even as they enter the infirmary. Shuzenji gestures for Yaamda to set Ochaco down on the bed. But the girl lets out a panicked sound of protest as he moves to set her down, and so instead he simply sits down with her on his lap. Aizawa hooks his foot around the leg of a chair, pulling it closer so he can sit nearby with Hitoshi.
"Ochaco, this is Recovery Girl – she's a hero, and she works here with Zawa. And she's going to make your arm better. Can you tell her where it hurts?" Yamada says, ducking his head down so he's talking directly to her. She shakes her head no, but after some gentle urging she uses her other hand to point at her injured arm without touching it.
"Okay, sweetheart." The nurse carefully maneuvers Ochaco's arm to get a better look. "Can you tell me what happened to it?"
Hitoshi makes a squeaking sound in Aizawa's arms, but keeps his head down, clutching tightly against the fabric of his tracksuit.
"I woke up an', an' I was floating, and I couldn' stop, an'-" she frowns, curling against Yamada. "I called Daddy, but he didn' come. Toshi asked if I was scared an' told me stop floating an' I fell really hard." She turns her face back into Yamada's chest, whimpering slightly as Shuzenji begins to roll her sleeve up.
"Floating?" She asks without looking up from her work.
"Her Quirk is Anti-Gravity, and Toshi's is Mind Control."
"Ah." She smiles softly. "They both recently developed then." Aizawa hums in confirmation. "Not to worry. Let me see, sweetie. It's going to stop hurting, but you're going to feel very tired, alright?"
Ochaco squirms away some, clutching her stuffed bear in her other arm. Yamada resumes singing softly to her as he rubs her back. Aizawa smiles at the sight. He had doubts at first when Yamada had declared he was going to adopt the little girl he had rescued. (Had spent a long time trying to talk him out of it to be honest.) But after the first time Yamada had brought Aizawa to see Ochaco while she was in foster care, Aizawa had to admit that Yamada was a natural father. He adored the little girl, and she absolutely loved him.
At the sound of Yamada's singing, Hitoshi twists around to watch. Sitting in Aizawa's lap, his little body felt as tense and nervous as Ochaco looked.
"Pain, pain, fly away," Shuzenji chants with a smile, using her Quirk kiss on Ochaco. She cries as her arm straightens, but Aizawa suspects that it's more from the shock of the movement then any actual pain. She immediately slumps against Yamada's chest, turning away from the nurse. But she takes the candy she's offered, even if Yamada has to unwrap it for her.
"You were very good, Occhan." He hands her the candy and presses a kiss to her forehead before turning to Shuzenji. "Thank you so much, Recovery Girl." He sighs, and Aizawa can almost see the tension slowly begin to leave him.
"Here, one for you too, sweetie." Shuzenji leans over, offering a candy to Hitoshi. He looks up at Aizawa waiting for approval before he takes the candy. He doesn't unwrap it though, instead sticking it into his pocket and turning back Aizawa's chest.
Shuzenji looks between both of the men thoughtfully. She smiles softy, her eyes crinkling. "Honestly, I was a bit concerned when I heard hat you boys had taken kids in. But I'm very proud to see that you both seem to have the hang of it."
Aizawa ducks his head, hiding his pleased flush in Hitoshi's wild, fluffy hair. Yamada makes a pleased sound and thanks her again. Aizawa knows that the blonde's eyes are watering for sure now. They chat a bit more, and she gives them her professional opinion that the kids should be well enough for school by Friday, if not tomorrow, and finally shoos them out with a good-natured laugh, chiding them to not come back.
Standing alone in the hall, Yamada turns a smile to him. That soft, quiet one that makes his face warm and his chest ache whenever it's directed at him. Aizawa returns his smile, but before he gets a chance to say anything Hitoshi lifts his head and says: "Mouse."
"Principal." Aizawa turns and looks down at Nezu.
"Aizawa, Yamada. I'm glad I caught you two." He pats Aizawa's leg in greeting. "If I could borrow Yamada for a moment, I'll cover your last class so you both can take your children home." He reaches up to pat Hitoshi's leg as well, smiling as the boy stares down at him with wide eyes.
The men glance at each other in a wordless debate, a skill after knowing each other for nearly ten years.
The men glanced at each other, wordlessly debating. Yamada was perfectly capable of handling the two children, and Aizawa didn't want him to think he'd hold the accident against him. But he wasn't going to turn down the offer to spend time with them. All three of them. Yamada's lips quirk in a smile, acknowledgement and agreement.
"Alright." He turns his attention to the child in his arms. "Hitoshi, I'm going to set you down so I can carry Ochaco, alright?"
"M'kay." Hitoshi slid down, but keeps a hand on Aiazawa's leg, warily watching as Yamada carefully shifts an exhausted Ochaco into Aizawa's arms. He guides her heavy head to rest on his shoulder, her body is nearly limp, and she struggles to keep her eyes open.
"I'll meet you by the car." Yamada waves and turns on his heel to follow the principal down the hall, attempting to tie his hair up into something more respectable.
"Just go to sleep," Aizawa murmurs to Ochaco when she tries sit up straighter, he places his hand on her back to stabilize her until she lays her head back down with a tiny huff. He glances down to make sure Hitoshi is following before leading him down the hall. They'd have to stop by the staff room to grab his bag. Aizawa makes sure his steps were slow enough that Hitoshi could keep up. The staff room wasn't terribly far, but Aizawa still had the habit of walking faster than the average child walking speed. He wasn't as bad as Yamada with his ridiculous long legs and energetic pace though.
He glances back as he reaches the staff room door and is hit by a brief wall of panic when he sees Hitoshi is no longer right beside him. But before he completely panics he sees Hitoshi come running around the corner. He has his plush cat in one hand, and in the other he is holding up Ochaco's stuffed bear.
"She dropped him!" Hitsohi says as soon as he notices Aizawa's face, pointing back towards the corner where the plush must have fallen from her limp hand as she dozed off. He hadn't noticed the loss of the toy.
Aizawa smiles, the panic beginning to fade. God, when had he become such an overprotective parent? "Good thing you rescued him. You're shaping up to be an impressive hero."
Hitoshi's face instantly crumples, and he drops his head, shaking it in denial. "Nuh-uh. I'm a bad guy, I hurt Ochaco."
"Hitoshi." Aizawa frowns, debating having this conversation in the hall, but opting to open the staff door and ushering Hitoshi to the couch instead. "Come here." He sits down on the sofa, carefully laying the sleeping Ochaco on the cushion beside him. Hitoshi clambers up and tucks himself in beside Aizawa, both stuffed animals clutched tightly in his arms.
"Hitoshi, did you mean to hurt her?" Aizawa pulls him onto his lap.
Hitoshi shakes is head in answer.
"You tried to help her because she was scared, didn't you?"
"Yeah." Hitoshi peers up at him through watering purple eyes. "But I didn't help."
"Accidents happen. Hizashi and I still make mistakes when we do our hero work. Mistakes are part of learning. What exactly did you tell her?"
"Um, 'stop floating'."
Just as he thought. "Is there something else you could say next time so she won't fall?"
Hitoshi furrows his brow, thinking hard. It may be a little much to ask since Hitoshi has a hard time controlling when his Quirk activated to begin with. But it would be good for him to be aware of how he phrased things. Children could be harsh with their words, and while Hitoshi was a kind and quiet child, it wouldn't hurt.
"Maybe 'come down slow'?" Hitoshi finally offers. He looks up at Aizawa for approval.
"That sounds much better." He smiles and gently scoots Hitoshi off his lap onto the cushions. "Sit here while I go get my things."
"M'kay."
It doesn't take long to pack up his stuff, he leaves a copy of his lesson plans in the center of his desk, clearly visible. Nezu probably has his own agenda for class today – he usually does – but it wouldn't be polite to not at least leave something. Hitoshi seems to be feeling better after his short conversation with Aizawa, he's looking around the room with curiosity – Power Loader had left a stack of equipment in the corner that is especially intriguing to him. He's still not asking questions, even though Aizawa can clearly see he wants too.
Aizawa never thought he'd hate his late sister so much. Children should ask questions, no matter how annoying they may be. (He briefly remembers the whole week that Ochaco had been determined to find out why they couldn't get a pet, asking but whyyyy at every opportunity. She wasn't satisfied with any of their answers, but her determination had been waylaid by Hitoshi's arrival.)
Since Hitoshi wasn't going to be asking any questions, Aizawa provides as much information as he can. Talking softly, telling him the students in his class. The other heroes who he works with, and most importantly, the stray cat that hangs around the front gates sometimes.
By the time they reach the car Hitoshi seems much happier than when he had arrived at the school. He says, at Aizawa's questioning, that he hadn't sneezed all day. (A bit of an exaggeration because Aizawa clearly remembers passing the boy a tissue over breakfast, but he decides not to call him out on it.) Ochaco's fever has gone, a positive side effect of Recovery Girl's healing. As long as Hitoshi doesn't have a relapse the kids should be able to return to school tomorrow.
Ochaco stirs as Aizawa buckles her into her car seat – rubbing her eyes and making an upset sound of protest. She blinks at him. "Daddy?"
Aizawa smooths her hair back, it had flattened against her cheek from resting against his shoulder. "He's talking with the principal."
"Where's Snuggle?"
"Here! I saved him!" Not yet buckled into his own seat, Hitoshi crawls over to hand the stuffed bear to her. She thanks him, hugging the bear close before carefully fixing the doctor's coat he was wearing.
Between Yamada and his parents that was the best dressed bear Aizawa had ever seen. It probably had a larger wardrobe than Aizawa did.
"Hey, sorry to keep you waiting! Are we ready to go?" Yamada appears over Aizawa's shoulder, pressing himself to his friend to peer around him to see the kids. "Heya, Toshi! You're looking better! Occhan, does your arm still hurt?"
"No." She rubs her eyes again, yawning. Yamada chuckles, telling her to sleep until they get home. Aizawa goes around to make sure Hitoshi is safely buckled in, before climbing in the passenger seat. Yamada slides into the driver's side and immediately flicks on the radio. A quiet talk show, more for background noise than anything else.
"What did the principal want to talk with you about?"
Yamada gives a quick glance over his shoulder and shakes his head. "I'll tell you later." He signs before putting the car in gear.
Yamada turns his focus to Hitoshi as he drives, keeping up a steady stream of chatter and encouraging Hitoshi to talk. Aizawa smiles hearing Hitoshi recount the episode of the anime he had been watching earlier, Ochaco had drifted off not long after the car started movie.
The drive back to the apartment isn't terribly long, quicker by car in the middle of the day then the morning trains of rush hour Aizawa had to manage during his morning commute. The apartment they live in now had worked perfectly when they had first graduated and had made their debuts as heroes. Two bedrooms, one bath, on the third floor – with an elevator that was more often out of order than functional. No laundry on site, but there was a place down the street - that trip wasn't truly inconvenient until the kids came along though.
Who knew two people so small created so much laundry?
Hitoshi is looking sleepy as well by the time they reach the apartment, and Aizawa ends up carrying both of the kids up the stairs, leaving Yamada's hands free to open the door.
The entryway is a mess of shoes and coats from the mad dash from the apartment earlier. He has to carefully step over the obstacles before he can sit down and pull off the kids' shoes, and then his own.
A quiet hum makes him look up. Yamada is looking down at them with an odd, soft look on his face. Questioning him just earns him a shake of his head, blonde hair starting to float loosely from where it had been hastily tied back.
"What do you say we make a snack and put in Kiki?"
Aizawa is not ashamed to admit he falls asleep halfway through Kiki's Delivery Service; it was a favorite of the kids, and he had seen it more times than any one human should. But the afternoon passes in lazily compared to the excitement of the morning, so Aizawa feels very little regret when Yamada wakes him for dinner.
Ochaco is still a bit sluggish, but she insists on resuming her chore of "helping" Aizawa clean up after they eat – occasionally trying to float the dishes over to him. If some food falls on the floor, well, he just plans to sweep afterwards. He doesn't mention it since she manages to clear the table without breaking anything. By the time they finish cleaning the kitchen Hitoshi is finished with his bath, Yamada herds Ochaco off to take hers as Aizawa dresses Hitoshi for bed.
In the year that Ochaco had been with them, and the six months since Hitoshi was adopted, they had finally settled into a bedtime routine. The most important, must never been skipped part, was story time. There were a couple of boxes of books in the kids' room, full of books that Aizawa and Yamada had collected, some purchased, some gifted, and plenty from Yamada's childhood. Both of the men traded off reading, depending on who didn't have patrol that night. And while Aizawa usually read on Wednesdays, Yamada had taken the night off patrol and so Aizawa offered the duty to him instead. (He assumed they would rather listen to Yamada anyway – he was accustomed to speaking and telling stories, he even did all the voices.) But Yamada declined, insisting with a teasing grin that Aizawa read for all of them tonight.
"Don't you have other things to do?" Aizawa huffs at him as he settles onto the foot of Hitoshi's bed, the boy immediately crawling over to climb onto his lap, plush in hand.
"Not during story time!" Yamada says, his eyes wide and looking far too innocent, hoping onto the other bed. He wraps a blanket around his head and shoulders and pulls his daughter close, hugging her like a teddy bear and making her laugh. "Read us a story, Shota!"
It takes two adventures of Guri and Gura before the kids are nodding off and he and Yamada can sneak out, shutting the door quietly. Yamada sighs, tugging his hair loose and shaking it out before turning to smile at Aizawa.
"What a fucking day," he mouths and Aizawa snorts. "Want a beer?"
"Sure."
They have to kick a few toys off the sofa before they can collapse on it, Aizawa curled up against the armrest, and Yamada right up against his feet. The blonde had never been one for personal space when it came to his best friend. And Aizawa was long beyond putting up a fuss about it. More than likely Yamada would eventually encourage Aizawa to stretch his legs across his lap.
"Thank you, Shocchan," Yamada suddenly says, interrupting the companionable silence. His head lolling back against the cushions, staring up at the ceiling. He pushes up his glasses to rub at his eyes with his free hand. "I knew it would only make it worse to take Occhan to the hospital, but there was nothing else I could think of."
Aizawa remembers the hyperventilating panic that Ochaco had the first time they had taken her to the doctor after her adoption. Her only clear memories of the hospital were her extensive treatment for smoke inhalation from the fire that had destroyed her family home. Aizawa was sure his heart was going to break, watching the way she clung to Yamada in tears, unable to be consoled and Yamada equally distraught.
"You're a good dad, Shota." There's something in Yamada's voice that makes Aizawa pause. He looks over in time to catch the rueful smile fade from his face.
"Hizashi-" Aizawa starts.
"I know. I know -" he taps his head "that it was an accident, I just feel terrible. I only had my hearing aids out for a second to change the batteries, but I missed her calling for me." He sighs, taking his glasses off completely, tossing them to the side and covering his face with his shaking hand. "Fuck. Fuck. She needed me and I wasn't-" His voice cracks.
Aizawa sits up, putting his feet on the floor so he can press his side against Yamada's.
"Accidents happen. Especially with Quirks like that." There's nothing else Aizawa can say that Yamada doesn't already know. Between the two of them Yamada is far more prepared for parenthood. Aizawa didn't have the experience of younger siblings that Yamada did. But in parenting, as in most things, Yamada aims for perfection.
"Ain't that the truth." His voice is choked with tears as he picks up his beer again to clink it against Aizawa's. They drink in silence for a moment, the only sound being Yamada's breath catching as he calms himself down between drinks.
"What did the principal have to say?" Aizawa asks as Yamada's breathing evens out.
"Hmm? Oh!" Yamada sits up slightly, his arm dropping down across Aizawa's shoulders. "He asked if I ever would consider putting my English skills to use."
Aizawa blinks. "Oh god."
Yamada narrows his eyes, bringing his hand up to poke Aizawa's cheek. "Okay, before you start complaining - I want you to remember who got your English grades from an 'F' to a 'B'. Me. Countless late nights, Shota. Endless hours of flashcards and tears."
"I didn't cry."
"No, you just used narcolepsy as a coping mechanism and passed out. I cried. A lot."
That… that actually sounds accurate. Aizawa acknowledges that he is a poor student when it comes to languages. It was through sheer determination and plenty of tutoring by Mrs. Yamada that Aizawa was even able to learn Sign Language. And he wanted to learn that. English on the other hand was his personal nemesis. But if Yamada was able to teach him of all people, then he should be able to teach anyone. Even if he did cry.
"What are you thinking?" Aizawa asks, brushing his hand away.
"Well, it'd be great if the station finally gives me an evening or weekend show. I could just take cases instead of doing patrols." He hums, thinking. "It'd be a lot more consistent paycheck."
Aizawa nods in agreement.
"We could afford a new apartment." Yamada turns to him, raising a brow.
"With two bathrooms."
"Yes, yes. I know. I'm sorry I have an image to maintain, Mr. Energy Saver."
"One closer to the school."
"Of course, yes. Laundry! In the building at least."
"An elevator that fucking works."
"God yes. Three bedrooms."
Aizawa glances over. "Only three?"
"Weeeelllll, I doubt we'll find a place with four bedrooms immediately." Yamada waves his hand. "Plus, the kids should be alright sharing for a bit longer if you want your own room."
He shrugs in response, the if in that sentence makes him pause and consider, he's… unwilling to admit that the idea doesn't appeal so much anymore. Having his own room in the first place was an odd luxury. Before moving into this apartment with Yamada, Aizawa hadn't had his own room since he was twelve. After his mother died and sister moved out, Aizawa had shared a studio flat with his father. He was used to sharing spaces.
And sharing Yamada was kind of nice actually. It wasn't forever, anyway. Eventually Yamada would find someone he'd rather have in bed and Aizawa would… well, he doesn't know what he'd do just yet.
Yamada shifts, depositing his empty bottle on the table and then flopping back against him, across his lap this time. "I'm tireeed. Carry me to bed."
Aizawa snorts. "No."
"C'moooon, you've carried everyone else today."
"Which logically means it's my turn to be carried."
"Fine!" Yamada huffs. But to Aizawa's surprise he stands and then bends over, scooping Aizawa up – one arm under his knees, and the other behind his back. He stands with a grunt of effort, but there's no danger of being dropped. Aizawa grumbles and throws his arm around Yamada's neck to help balance. "But I get to be carried tomorrow."
"Whatever."