Companion piece to my last Erasermic fic "Sight for Sore Eyes." If you haven't read it yet, I would encourage you to do so, though it isn't necessary if you're only looking to read this one.
I did go with the "deaf Present Mic" headcanon for this specific fic, cuz I like the idea of his quirk having some backlash on him. Cuz I'm mean. - It should also be noted that, while well on my way to having them, I don't know everything about hearing aids or sign language, so... keep that in mind.
Heard in The Little Hours
If there was one thing Shota disliked more than uneventful patrols, it was uneventful patrols in the middle of winter in the rain. He'd been expecting night crime in the area to have picked up because of the time of year, but thus far villains hadn't decided to leave their holes. He'd caught the occasional petty criminal, but it was never an affair that took real effort. That was fine, because it meant there weren't a dozen different bad guys to deal with in one night like there had been in the good old days, but it also meant he had nothing to do for the majority of the night. As tempting as sleep was those days, he got the feeling it would be the moment he decided to go home that someone would decide to kidnap a kid or rob a bank. Murphy's Law and all that.
Granted, that didn't make the prospect of skipping out on the next four hours and heading home any less tempting. In fact, the thought alone made Shota stifle a yawn with the back of his hand. A tired sigh dragged itself into the air and he hopped down from his perch atop a chimney, walking along the edge of the building in the search for a different area to survey.
His attention latched onto a group of teenagers on the street over. It didn't look like they were up to anything nefarious, and he was hoping they were just stopped and peering into the store because they were curious -he didn't particularly enjoy turning children not much older than his own students in to the police- but he had to be sure, so Shota made his way to the rooftop over to check them out. From the ledge it was easy to make out their faces, and nobody appeared to have malicious intent in their expressions- they were watching whatever was playing on the displayed television sets with rapt attention, so he decided he could hang out quietly a moment to make sure that didn't change before continuing to the next area.
That plan evaporated into thin air, however, when one of the teens made mention of a familiar name.
"Holy shit! Did- was that Present Mic?"
The others followed that up with their own exclamations, none of which were comforting.
"Oh no."
"Fuck! That villain's crazy strong!"
"Guys… is he? Did he just… He's not getting up."
Abandoning all attempts for stealth, Shota flipped off the side of the building and landed amongst the group. The nearest startled kid threw a defensive punch that he easily caught before it could make contact with his face. The rest of the group eyed him warily, and any other time he might have said something about his being a hero to ease their concern, but he couldn't bring himself to pay them much attention. His eyes were locked on the multiple screens displaying the scene that left them speechless.
Despite the blurriness of the cameras due to the weather, it was impossible to miss the figure being zoomed in on. In a crater of concrete, lying face-down and clearly bleeding from several different spots, was Hizashi. Rubble and shards of unknown substance scattered around him, while half his costume was missing- most notably, jacket and directional speaker. It looked like he'd gotten caught up in an explosion of some sort. And he wasn't getting up.
The reporter was talking, and distantly Shota caught that another hero had shown up to help, but he was already running, the location of the filming spot seared in his mind as he used rooftops to reach his destination. His blood pounded in his ears and the only coherent thought in his mind was that he had to get there. He had to get to Hizashi before it was too late.
As he neared the warehouse district where the fight had been reported, he did wonder what Hizashi was doing out so late. He didn't patrol at night because of his radio show, and he certainly didn't go looking for villains out of the blue. Hizashi had mentioned working on an actual case, but he hated doing night raids- and he never did them without bugging him to come along as backup. Had he stumbled upon a villain on his walk home? It was the only logical explanation his brain could supply, but Shota still got the distinct feeling he was wrong.
All speculation was shoved to the back of his mind as soon as he came upon the scene. It was a bigger mess than the reports lead him to believe. Much of the damage in the area could be pinpointed to the caved-in building causing much of the rubble mess across the roads, but there were plenty of storage units that had human-sized dents in them. Shota didn't like the looks of those, especially when he caught sight of bent pipes that still had blood on them, though the rain was doing its best to wash it away. Streetlamps from nearby illuminated just enough of the area for him to feel confident in surmising that Hizashi had fought someone with a strength-based quirk. That was confirmed for him a second later when a familiar blue and white body flew by and collided with a wall.
She didn't immediately get up, but Shota wasn't worried. He knew it took more than that to get the young hero to stay down. Granted, he'd been hoping for someone a bit more experienced than Zap Trap, but he supposed beggars couldn't be choosers. At least her taser quirk would help weaken their opponent. Plus, the flashiness of a quirk like hers could distract anyone thinking of filming him. Although at that point, he didn't care if they did notice him, because as soon as his eyes locked on the person he was looking for he was landing on the concrete and sprinting towards Hizashi.
The fist that flew towards his face as soon as he cleared the nearest obstacle that was a crushed vehicle wasn't unexpected and Shota barely broke stride as he feigned to the left and pulled his scarf free of his neck. As soon as the burly villain was in his sights he activated his quirk, and when another punch was thrown, he made quick work of wrapping the capture weapon around the man's wrist, using his momentum to flip him over his shoulder. He landed with a heavy thud just in time for Zap Trap to jump back into the action and use her quirk against the villain. She did a double take upon seeing him but he paid her little attention.
"Who- Eraserhead?"
"Take care of him," Shota ordered, already running to close the remaining distance between him and his husband.
"You got the other guy already?"
That stopped him in his tracks and Shota was already searching the area for any other people while asking, "What other guy?"
"The one who did that to Present Mic."
That wasn't the guy who did it? Shota glanced at the man with the strength quirk and frowned. He hadn't seen anyone else when he'd done a quick survey of the area. Did they have an invisibility quirk? If they did, that made more sense as to how they could've gotten to Hizashi. It was normally near impossible to land a hit on him when he was using his quirk- unless the assailant was fine with blowing out their eardrums or had a long range use ability.
So where...
"You must be 'Shota'."
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end without warning and Shota whirled around with his quirk already activated.
He was ready to take on the newest threat, so when he barely had time to look at the villain's face before he felt a stabbing pain in his leg he was taken by surprise. The hand not occupied by his capture weapon went down to where he could feel blood seeping into his uniform- not a lot of it, but enough to be annoying. He expected to find some sort of spike of knife there, so when he found the shattered remains of his phone he glared. They must have had some kind of detonation or electronic quirk. That being the case, he could see how Hizashi wouldn't been at a disadvantage. His support gear would've easily been destroyed by a quirk like that.
The thought made his chest tighten, because if his phone blowing up had done enough damage to draw blood, then Hizashi's speaker, which had been around his neck…
Shota had always prided himself on being one of the few people from his graduated hero class that could pretty much keep a level head at any time, no matter the stakes of a fight, but right then, he could understand why sometimes his fellow heroes lost it. Because the thought of that bastard doing something that may have harmed Hizashi's voice made him see red.
A solid punch to the villain's face later and that color cleared out of his vision enough that he could remind himself of his true priority: getting to Hizashi.
The fact that the man had a quirk so reliant on items on a person put him at a disadvantage in the fight, because a phone was the only thing Shota carried when out on patrols. He did want to know how the villain knew his name, though, since unlike Hizashi's identity, it wasn't broadcasted all over. He would need to get information out of him. That fact played in the back of his mind as an afterthought and Shota sighed inwardly when he flipped over the man's head and snagged his capture weapon around his throat, because it was just another thing he was going to have to do. It was true, he'd been agonizing over not having anything to do on his work nights, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy dealing with problems that were meant for other heroes. As it was, tonight he doubted he'd be doing much after he got to Hizashi.
The villain made a grab for his scarf and Shota narrowed his eyes as he tightened the weapon. When a choked cry sounded as reward for the effort, Shota pulled tighter, until the man could make no noise at all. He didn't have time for delaying, so as soon as the man lost just enough oxygen to have any real fight in him, he released him and finished the job by bringing his fist down hard against his temple.
His body hadn't even hit the ground before Shota was by Hizashi's side. Now that he was close enough, Shota was certain that whatever kind of overload quirk that man had had been used on the blond, because in the small crater, he could pick out bits and pieces of what had to have be the electric parts of his costume. He payed those little attention though, because he was working on turning Hizashi onto his back with the utmost care, needing to assess any further damage.
The cuts on his face were superficial -nothing as bad as the ones he'd sustained in the USJ incident at least- but they also weren't what caught his attention. No, Shota was more focused on the blood coating his cut up throat. The rain did its best to wash the red stains away, but the hair plastered to every available inch of Hizashi's soaked skin served as a sort of protective barrier.
It took the remaining strength in him to push his worry to the back of his mind when he assessed the rest of his injuries. Freaking out wasn't going to help Hizashi. So, after he checked his pulse was steady and assured himself the blond wasn't in immediate danger of dying, he felt better about shaking him firmly in an attempt to rouse him.
"Mic. Mic, wake up."
He stirred beneath his hands but didn't response otherwise and Shota grabbed his shoulders harder and shook him again. Sirens wailed in the distance, and he knew that if worse came to worst the paramedics would help him, but he'd rather not have to wait. He'd rather Hizashi wake up so that they could get out of there without any more attention being brought to them. It was bad enough he could feel a camera on him as he continued to jostle his partner.
Hizashi opened his eyes right around that point, a slow fluttering of lashes until he seemed to come back to himself. Then he was wide awake. He looked about ready to panic, too, opening his mouth to scream and everything before Shota quickly cut him off. The last thing he wanted or needed was a face-full of Hizashi quirk.
"Mic, do you think you need an ambulance, or can you walk?"
He'd planned his first question to be what happened, but apparently his mouth had decided to work ahead of his brain for the moment. Shota frowned at himself, but still waited for an answer, because when he thought about it, it was a good question. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have asked at all, but given how close they were to Shuzenji's place, he decided it would be okay to forgo the hospital, where everything was too crowded and noisy and impersonal.
Hizashi didn't answer him and Shota frowned before repeating the question. He knew the chances of him having a concussion were high, but Shota had given him plenty of those during their high school days, so it wasn't something Hizashi couldn't shake off. Again though, there was no answer from the blond.
Shota was getting ready to shake him out of his daze again when his own brain caught up with him, and the realization that Hizashi's directional speaker wasn't the only electronic piece he had on him kicked him in the chest like a particularly pissed off horse.
As if on cue, Hizashi groaned and brought a hand up to his ear, only to bring it back a second later with a grimace and a small amount of blood coating his fingertips.
"Fuck." Shota was starting to wish he'd gotten more than a single punch in on the villain. Because of course they would've exposed one of Hizashi's biggest weaknesses without even trying.
It struck him once more, though, that they'd known his real name, and that perhaps that meant it wasn't just a random attack. Perhaps it wasn't a fluke that they'd totalled Hizashi's hearing aids, either.
He swore under his breath again at the implications of that particular breach in their personal lives, because very few people knew about Hizashi's hearing problem, but paused his internal raging when Hizashi's arms latched onto his neck. Without thinking, Shota wrapped an arm around his waist and took the opportunity to help him to his feet. As soon as he was up Hizashi swayed into him, and the sound of camera shutter clicking reached his ears and had him biting down on a curse. He'd been hoping the entire spectacle would go down as more of a Zap Trap piece, but as luck would have it he was about to become a lot less unknown as an underground hero. Anyone seen anywhere near Present Mic in public had that sort of problem- it was why they rarely worked together. He made a mental note to have Nemuri find out which station had the videos, and then see if she couldn't get them destroyed. With her persuasion skills, he doubted it would be much of a feat for her, and she did owe him for… so many things.
Despite how much he didn't want the attention, though, he tightened his hold on Hizashi and didn't move from his spot as his pillar of support. He wasn't about to abandon him.
Thankfully, the universe was making up for the last ten minutes, because not a moment later, the sirens tearing down the street came to a halt. The police and ambulance parked and were out of their vehicles in record time, and Shota wondered if the fact that Hizashi's status as qualifying celebrity had anything to do with that. For once, he wasn't going to complain, because they wasted no time in helping him get Hizashi away from the public eye.
When he climbed into the vehicle after him, one of the paramedics looked as if they were going to protest his being there, but one glare later she seemed to change her mind. He was sure he looked every bit the intimidating figure Hizashi always joked about him being, which was probably also the reason that nobody argued with him when he gave them the address to take them to what was decidedly not the hospital. That was good, because he was in no mood to explain himself. He needed to get Hizashi to someone he trusted. Someone who wouldn't completely disregard the fact that he was his husband once they got their hands on Hizashi.
The paramedics only hesitated again when Shota pulled a wobbly Hizashi out of the ambulance, but as soon as they saw the woman answering the door, they visibly relaxed. It occurred to Shota only then that Recovery Girl was probably a legend among medical staff- she had been on the job for… well since he'd been a student at U.A. And it wasn't like she didn't get enough publicity every time a sports festival rolled around. Hizashi always gave her a highlighted mention, and Shota had wondered more than once if he'd struck a deal with her during their younger days, that if she didn't tell his parents how often he was getting his ass kicked in training, he would remind people who took the best care of their kids. That or Hizashi had a soft spot for the woman, which… was also believable.
Given how hastily she ushered them inside after seeing the state Hizashi was in, Shota bet he wasn't the only one who had a soft spot. She'd even cut off her lecture about how late it was immediately upon seeing the state he was in. Shota didn't think he'd ever gotten her to drop the worried scolding, even when he'd come to her with a busted jaw and dislocated shoulder that one time in his earlier heroing days.
She hurried them into her back room, where her technically-not-illegal office was set up. She let him stay there with Hizashi exactly long enough for him to get him situated on the bed for her. She was quick to kick him out and slam the door in his face in her rush to get back to Hizashi's side, though.
Shota spent the entire waiting period wearing the carpet thin with his pacing while he tried to figure out how the villains had known what on Hizashi to target, and why they'd attacked him at all. Because the more he thought about it, the less he believed it was a situation Hizashi just happened to stumble onto. The Present Mic he knew didn't just rush into fights when he didn't see an immediate win, or at least a path towards it. And he certainly didn't take villains on head-to-head when they had quirks like that. Hizashi was great at many things, but hand-to-hand combat was not one of them. His quirk was better for fighting from a distance- where Shota's skills lacked, his excelled, and vice versa. He could hold his own in a close combat situation for a short time if he had to, but that was against someone with normal, quirkless strength.
So what had happened?
He couldn't figure it out, and by the time Shuzenji opened the door and announced she was finished, he decided he'd just have to ask Hizashi. As soon as he was let back into the room, he sat in the chair left by his bedside and took Hizashi's bandaged hand. Around anyone else, he might have been more hesitant to get grabby, but Shota had long ago realized that there was no hiding anything for Shuzenji. Besides, it wasn't like she was someone who was going to blab to the press, who were probably already having a hayday with what they'd gotten on tape.
"I focused mainly on the damage to his neck and ears," she explained when Shota found himself staring at the gauze around Hizashi's arms and chest. He had been wondering why she hadn't healed all the other visible injuries, and of course she'd known that before he ever had to verbalize it.
"I had to dig some shrapnel out of his neck, too, so it's good that you got here when you did. He also broke a rib. I fixed that, but it's still tender, so when you take him home, don't let him do any lifting or strenuous activities. I also wouldn't let him talk too much for the next couple of days. I don't know the extent of the damage done, but blunt force trauma can be a hell of a thing."
It sounded like she was already preparing to kick them out, and while Shota supposed that was fair, seeing as it was nearing two in the morning and they had dropped in unannounced, he couldn't help but feel lost. She'd just dropped a bomb on him about potential dangers to Hizashi's quirk, which she had to know was going to stress him out, and then she made it seem like she wanted him to hit the road. Before he could get too worked up about that to paste on anything past a scowl, though, she followed up her orders with a softer, "What happened, Eraser?"
He paused, letting his annoyance go to the back burner to simmer, and let out a tired sigh instead. "I have no idea."
Apparently Shuzenji had nothing to say for that, so she let them remain in silence for a couple of minutes. Hizashi stirred briefly in that time, but didn't wake completely, so Shota was left to mull over what she'd said about his injuries. Hizashi would complain about the cuts and bruises, but they weren't cause for any real concern in his eyes- even the ones that had required stitches. Hizashi would probably fuss over them because he didn't want more scars on his body than absolutely necessary, but another round of healing would be all that was needed to fix those. His throat was something else. Shota's attention was drawn to the criss-crossing bandages there and he frowned.
The potential for more harm done if he used his voice was a bitter pill to swallow, and Shota was reminded of his days after the USJ incident, how he hadn't been able to open his eyes without threatening his ability to see. He had been miserable for those couple of days, and the fact that Hizashi would be in the same boat now made something coil painfully in his chest. Hizashi's voice was an essential part of who he was- talking nonstop was his trademark trait- and the thought of him not having it wasn't something he wanted to think about just yet. He put that, and any related worries, out of his mind for the time being, with a reminder that considering worst-case scenarios wasn't going to help anything.
Apparently getting lost in his own thoughts wasn't helping anyone either, because Aizaw hissed when unexpected pain traveled up the side of his leg where Shuzenji smacked him with her cane. It alerted him to the fact that she'd been talking as well as reminded him of his own wound.
"What?" He growled, earning him an unamused eye roll.
"Did. You. Get. Hurt."
She punctuated each world with a light jab to various spots on his body and Shota shoved her cane away with a frustrated huff. When he didn't immediately answer, she raised it again threateningly, but he paid her no mind as he unzipped his tracksuit and peeled the wet fabric off his skin until his thigh was visible to her. As a teenager, getting undressed for her had been the most embarrassing, unbearable experience of his life, but nowadays he had very little shame and the whole thing was second nature.
Shuzenji tutted under her breath at the sight of phone bits embedded in his leg and Shota couldn't help but be a little impressed that the small device could do so much damage. He'd bled a lot more than he thought he had. Shuzenji pushed him to sit back down and he groaned but did as told. While she worked on pulling all the bits of plastic and glass out of his skin, Shota focused on the feeling of Hizashi's fingers intertwined with his to distract from the small pinpricks of pain.
"What kind of quirk did that villain have?" She sounded irritated and Shota realized why when a particularly sharp sting had his leg twitching involuntarily. She tossed the offending piece of bent metal onto the bedside table
"I don't know," he grunted, "but it's a pain in the ass. My best guess is electrical overload of some sort."
Shuzenji hummed, apparently satisfied with that answer, and finished her ministrations in the next movement with a quick kiss to his hand. The feeling of his skin knitting itself back together was a sensation Shota didn't think he'd ever grow fully accustomed to, but at least the bone-crushing fatigue that accompanied the healings wasn't any sort of foreign feeling. He practically lived in that state on the daily.
"Thanks," he mumbled and Shuzenji sighed.
"One of these days you two will stop coming over so often."
Shota wanted to protest that, because it had been at least two years since he'd come to her for a work-related injury, but he stopped when he reminded himself that anything that landed him in the school infirmary technically counted as work-related too, and thus it had been less than six months since his last visit. Instead, he offered her a snort and a skeptical raise of his brow, because, yeah, he imagined one day they'd stop being in danger at every turn, given their chosen profession and all.
She smacked his arm lightly and scrunched her nose. "Oh, shut it."
Hizashi woke up not too long after that conversation with Recovery Girl, and Shota wasted no time explaining the situation to him. His sign language was a bit rusty since it had been awhile since he'd had to use it, but after a relatively rough start, he got used to it again. When he got to the bit about Shuzenji's orders for him to not talk and the reasons behind that, he'd looked distressed and Shota had to assure him that he wasn't going to let him do anything stupid that would risk any permanent damage. That got him to relax a little.
They headed home soon after that, thanking Shuzenji again before getting into the cab she'd called for them. On the way back, Shota borrowed the driver's phone -feeling no small amount of frustration over the loss of his own- and called Midnight. He figured she was the most likely of all the teachers to still be awake at such a late hour, and when she answered with a particularly loud purr of a greeting, he resisted the urge to hold the receiver away from his ear. When he asked if she or any of the other faculty could cover his and Mic's classes for a couple days, of course her mind went to the gutter, and before she could get farther than asking what they planned on doing that would put him out of commission for a few days, he interrupted her and told her to watch recent news.
The sound of her nails clacking against a keyboard, followed by a few minutes of silence and then several soft curses later, was familiar and Shota waited a little impatiently for her to get the picture. Of course, knowing Nemuri, she'd probably gotten caught up in reading trashy gossip threads.
"Hey," he snapped, not in the mood to wait any longer than he had to, "can you help or not?"
She replied with a heavy sigh. "Yeah, it won't be a problem."
"Great."
"But jeez, Shota, what happened to keeping a low profi-"
Shota hung up before she could start flipping him shit about being the new face of the morning news and then was suddenly sort of grateful for the lack of phone. He got the feeling if his had survived, Nemuri would be texting him nonstop all night and day until he regretted the day he'd ever associated with her.
Shota handed the device back to their driver along with a payment as they pulled up to his apartment building. It was closer than Hizashi's, and it would be the last place villains would look if there were any after Present Mic still. He didn't know if the attack group had been consisting of only those two, or if there were more, and he wasn't about to risk it. Hizashi let himself be led upstairs and it wasn't until Shota had changed into something warm and dry and helped him do the same, that he finally said something. And in true Hizashi fashion, it wasn't what Shota expected him to say.
'You don't have to miss class for me,' He signed and Shota couldn't help but shoot him an exasperated look that told him that was exactly what he had to do. Who else was going to take care of him if he was at work? His secondary response was only a stiff sign to, 'Shut up.'
It was a familiar line that he threw out when Hizashi said stupid things. Shota firmly believed that one day Hizashi would get it through his thick skull that he was so much more important to him than his career. Yes, his kids were a high priority, as was his hero work, but if he were put into a room with his teaching position, his hero license, and Hizashi Yamada, and was told he could only keep one, he would choose his husband every time. Most of the time that went without saying, but sometimes Hizashi seemed to forget that he was never going to leave him.
To punctuate the unspoken promise, Shota grabbed Hizashi's waist and pulled him into the couch, mindful not to hold him too tight or jostle tender rib cage. Hizashi's expression softened and he settled comfortably between Shota's legs with his back pressed against his stomach. He let his head rest just under his collarbones and Shota dropped his chin atop his damp head.
He didn't even realize they'd fallen asleep until Hizashi's restless shifting against him woke him up and nearly sent them rolling onto the hardwood floor. Shota shifted and saved them in time and then tried to wake Hizashi, but he was having none of it, balling his hands into fists and breathing heavily while his nightmare ran its course.
Tightened his hold around Hizashi's midsection with one arm while he brought his free hand up to run his fingers through his still-damp hair was all Shota could do, but he contented himself with the knowledge that it was all he needed to do. Hizashi fought him for a second at first, but he held firm and waited for him to relax. He knew it was only a matter of waiting the initial panic out, because even though he hated being touched or confined when he had nightmares, preferring to be left alone until he had his bearings and could see for himself that there was no danger, Hizashi was the opposite. Being held grounded him. It gave him a way to find a path back to the real world and it gave him a sense of security.
It took a minute, but Hizashi eventually calmed down and blearily opened his eyes. When he looked up, Shota offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
"It's alright, Zashi." He soothed, "S'just me."
Of course it was only after he said it and Hizashi stared at him for a solid twenty seconds that he realized the mistake he'd made by speaking instead of signing. By then, though, Hizashi was already pushing him away in order to sit up on his own. Shota didn't immediately go after him, because he could see Zashi wanted space to orient himself while he woke up the rest of the way. It wasn't like it he was used to finding himself in Shota's apartment after getting hurt- his was usually the chosen place to crash since was bigger, cleaner, and had more furniture to lounge around.
However, what Hizashi's attention seemed to be on wasn't the interior space at all, but the soft light streaming through the window. Shota hadn't even realized it was morning until before that. Considering that time meant nothing to him in terms of sleep schedules, he supposed he would be the last to notice something like that. His night shifts always left him sleeping well into the afternoon, and even after that, he could be ready to nap during the day at a moment's notice.
Hizashi wasn't the same, though. Mornings were when he normally got up and prepared for the day- because he always had something planned, even if it was just sitting around in pajamas and switching between making out and watching TV. Mornings were his time to roll out of bed and warm up his voice for the day with a song or two while he showered. Mornings were when he would break out his most obnoxious tunes that were popular with the younger generation while making breakfast for the sole purpose of waking him up.
This morning wasn't like that, though. It couldn't be. So Hizashi just sat there, staring at the window, not moving or signing, or showing any sign of his typical Hizashi exuberance. It was concerning and Shota tapped his shoulder to grab his attention.
When Hizashi didn't immediately look at him, Shota realized he was trying to hide whatever upset expression he wore. That was confirmed for him a second later when his shoulders started to shake with sobs only Shota could hear. The sound broke every sympathetic bone in his body and he bet a villain ripping his chest open would've been like a bee sting in comparison. Shota wished their support team would be able to finish the new hearing aids before tomorrow, but he also knew they were staying up all night and day to repair broken bits of Hizashi's uniform- a special rush order. They were doing the best they could.
It wasn't as if it was the first time Hizashi's hearing aids had been damaged, either, but it had been a long, long time. And even during those times, if he'd wanted to talk, he could. The factor of not having his voice this time only made matters doubly worse. He reminded himself how it had been when his eye sockets had been wrecked. Waiting for them to heal had been a nerve wracking couple of days, even with Hizashi by his side to help him through it.
Now the tables were turned, and it was up to him to make sure Hizashi got through the ordeal as best he could. Shota planned on being every bit as understanding and helpful as Mic had been for him, but the only problem with that was that he'd already started off wrong. Even if Hizashi hadn't heard him speak, he'd seen his mouth move and that was enough- knowing he was being spoken to and not being able to hear or reply… Shota might as well have shoved a rail spike into his heart. It probably would've hurt less.
Hizashi had told him more than once that he loved the sound of his voice, so to not have that… well, it was probably similar to the empty feeling Shota felt from not having Hizashi's voice to fill the silence. Nothing short of awful.
However, despite feeling a bit guilty, he wasn't about to let his husband feel like he was alone in any of this. He brushed Hizashi's hair out of his face and tucked it carefully behind his ear. When tear filled eyes turned his way, he signed that he was sorry. Shota wished there was a way to encompass all the different reasons for that apology into a single hand movement, but he never had been able to perfect that art, not even with his words. He was pretty sure Hizashi understood either way, though.
He just shook his head and swallowed thickly before replying, letting his mouth move while his hands spoke.
'It's not your fault. None of this is.'
The guilty look in his eyes made Shota pause. The implication in the statement that it was, perhaps Hizashi's fault, confused him.
'What do you mean?'
Instead of answering, Hizashi turned away again and bit his lip to hold onto a painful sounding whimper. Shota wasn't sure what shifted then, but there was something about the way he was crying now that made him think it wasn't just his hearing that Hizashi hurt over. There was something else buried beneath the surface of his grief. He wanted to ask him about it, grabbing at his arm to turn him back, but Hizashi beat him to it with a question of his own.
'Is Aoi okay?'
Shota narrowed his eyes trying to decipher the meaning behind that particular sign. He released his hold on Hizashi long enough to send back a short, 'Who?'
Hizashi's froze, his widening eyes the only indicator that something was wrong. His jaw dropped open and Shota prepared his ears for the shout that never came. Hizashi's hand flew to his throat while his face scrunched up in pain and he was reminded of the reason they were using sign language at all. His hand went to his knee and Hizashi clung to it for half a second before he threw it off as he curled into himself and elaborated.
'Yamauchi's daughter, Aoi. Those villains had her. Did you get her? Is she safe?'
Judging by the forlorn way he signed, Shota was sure Hizashi already knew the answer he was going to receive. That didn't make him want to give it any more, though.
'There was no kid. As far as I could see. Zap Trap didn't say anything about one, either.'
Hizashi nodded slowly, numbly, and buried his face against his knees. Shota was at a loss. He'd known Hizashi had been busy with his own hero work for once, but he'd acted as if it was no big deal when he'd asked about it. Knowing he'd been working a case involving his co-host would've been important information. Personal jobs weren't ever supposed to be worked alone. Hell, if he'd had any say in it, Hizashi wouldn't have worked it at all… which was probably why Hizashi had kept it from him. The fact that he'd kept it hidden from him at all was upsetting, but Shota decided to let it go for the time being.
Judging by the way Hizashi refused to look at him and cried harder, he understood how royally he'd screwed up. Although, given the fact that he'd also essentially been told that he'd been trying to save a friend's kid and failed, there were other reasons for him to be sobbing like he was.
Shota gave him a few minutes to let it all out, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and letting him fall against his side. When Hizashi finally seemed to have a better hold on his emotions, he sat up and wiped his eyes. Shota took that as his window for continuing where they'd left off, because he still had some puzzle pieces that needed fitting together.
'What happened?'
Hizashi's attention turned to the floorboards. He remained like that for some time, but Shota let him be. He knew when Hizashi was thinking and when he was avoiding a conversation, and if the tapping of his fingers against his knees was any indicator, he was trying to figure out how to explain whatever the answer was.
'They,' he started before halting his movements again. Shota waited patiently, and soon enough Hizashi was back on track. 'Those guys. They had some personal information on Yamauchi and were going to make it public unless he gave them money he doesn't have.'
So it had been a very personal job. Shota nodded as he took in what Hizashi signed. He didn't know much about his show's co-host, but from what Hizashi told him, Yamauchi was a nice guy, so he could see why Hizashi would help him out. Shota held a particular dislike for blackmailers and extortionists, so he understood where his husband came from. Those guys were like reporters on steroids- just as annoying and even more dangerous. Why Hizashi would've kept that kind of job from him, though, he didn't understand. The next wave of signs cleared that up, though.
'I was super close to them- yesterday, I almost had them. But… I guess they didn't believe Yamauchi about not having money. I know he doesn't have much. We work at the same company, right? But. They got his girl, Aoi.'
He worried his lip and seemed to be searching for the right words for a minute before he got back on track. Shota almost lost him a few times as his hands flew through the next bit. It was partially amusing to him, how similar Hizashi's signing was to his actual speaking.
'I don't even know how they did it. They must have done it after school, but I seriously don't know. But they got her, and I just said enough is enough and called them- they gave Yamauchi a burner cell, you know how it is. I got a meeting arranged, said I was Yamauchi and had the money. They wanted to meet there, at night so there were no witnesses, which was fine because I figured it would be a done deal…'
'It wasn't.'
Hizashi grimaced and shook his head. 'No. I guess they've heard the show before and know what I sound like. Never thought it was Yamauchi for one second. They ambushed me. I thought when Zap Trap showed up that there could be a chance of saving Aoi, but… Fuck. I should've known they weren't going to bring her. I'm an idiot.'
Shota flicked his arm for saying that and Hizashi blinked at him in surprise. He wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to reply yet though, so he only frowned as he mulled over the information. It had been a good idea, posing is his friend, and it probably would've worked if Hizashi had been literally anybody else. He was too well known a hero and voice sometimes. If he had a lesser known person working with him, it probably would've turned out different. He wasn't about to add insult to injury by explicitly pointing that out, but he did want to know why Hizashi hadn't told him what was going on. He knew kidnaps, stealth, and "negotiation" were some of his specialties.
'I could've helped you.'
Hizashi sighed and nodded, though his words were a resounding no to the suggestion. 'I didn't want to involve you because you've been busy with the kids. You're exhausted, and I didn't want to put even more on you. There was also the risk of media getting involved because, blackmail, kidnap, popular radio show. Reporters always seem to know what I'm doing. And I know how much you hate them. Besides, I thought I had it. Hell, if that stupid electronic quirk dude hadn't been around, I would've had it.'
It was like a bucket of ice water was dumped on his head as Shota just stared at his husband. Hizashi hadn't told him, not because he didn't trust him to pull off the job, and not even because of a pride thing, but because he hadn't wanted him worrying about potential massive media attention. It wasn't every day that an underground hero worked with a public pro, after all. There could've been an inordinate amount of backlash from something like that getting out too. There were plenty of heroes and agencies that discouraged occasional team ups with the excuse of the potential risks involved by not being one hundred percent in sync with a partner like pro groups were. The attention would have made both of their lives that much more hectic, and while Hizashi was used to handling that sort of spotlight, Shota had always avoided it like plague.
He'd been protecting him- or trying to.
It would've warmed his heart, had Shota not been thinking about the fact that somewhere along the road, he'd made Hizashi think he cared more about keeping the press off his back than helping him. It was a tough pill to swallow and Shota found himself getting on his knees in front of him, shaking his head.
'You didn't have to do that,' he signed.
'I did,' Hizashi replied stubbornly, 'it's bad enough they probably caught you on camera helping me. Now you're actually going to be popular for a couple weeks. You won't be able to step out of school without a million people getting in your face about why you helped me, and the nature of our relationship, and everything else they're always bugging me about.'
It was true. But then, he'd already known that was his future. As soon as he'd hopped off that building to join the fight, he'd known he was going to have to wade into the shark infested waters that were publication rights in order to get the reporter's tapes from earlier deleted. But he hadn't cared, because Hizashi had been in trouble. And now, he found he cared less and less about actually getting the tapes. The longer he stared into Hizashi's guilt ridden eyes, the more he realized it didn't matter. It didn't matter if there were people who gossiped, or wrote articles, or pestered him for interviews, because it was worth bearing if it meant he had Hizashi by his side to be exasperated by their antics alongside him. And it wasn't like people knew who Shota was outside of his job, so that part of their lives would remain normal- the press would only stop him if Hizashi was around, which wasn't anything new.
'I'd tell them it's none of their business.'
He hoped it would've been enough to quell Hizashi's distress, but the argument he received told him his endeavor had failed. 'I wasn't going to sick reporters on you like that on purpose! Besides, you have a bad rep for being mean to the press, and that sort of thing wouldn't help.'
It made sense, and Shota wasn't about to argue with him about the fact that he would damage his reputation even more. But, like he'd told him when they'd first been getting to know each other in school, he didn't care about appearances. It was why he'd chosen to work underground and in the shadows.
He quirked a smirk that caught Hizashi's attention. 'I don't care about how I look in interviews and magazines- I'm not gonna get fired for coming off as unpleasant. Besides, the more they report me as an asshole, the better. Nobody wants to learn anything about the asshole, remember? You told me that… what, after my sport's festival win?'
Hizashi shook his head, but Shota could see some of the tension had drained from his face. 'The whole point of that had been to try and convince you to stop being such an asshole.'
'Really?' Shota snorted, 'and all this time I was thinking you'd been giving me some advice.'
Hizashi sniffled, but at least his smile held. 'Jerk.'
There was a lull in conversation for half a minute before Hizashi was gesturing again. The amusement that had adorned his face nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by a pinched brow and teeth worrying his lip.
'So they still have Aoi.'
'Maybe not,' Shota signed back before thinking about it. When Hizashi looked at him a little surprised, he shrugged and let him ride his train of thought. 'If there were no more than two villains, there's a chance she's just being held at a secondary location now with nobody to watch her. How old is she?'
'Eight.'
"Yeah, there's no way they would've planned to leave her alone for long," he muttered to himself before letting Hizashi back in on what he was thinking. 'At that age, if they did leave her alone, then she's not very far from where they attacked you. Do you think there were more than two?'
'I would be surprised if there were.'
Shota nodded more to himself than Hizashi and wandered into the kitchen to grab his home phone, sending a 'one second' sign to his husband when he made a confused noise in the back of his throat that had him wincing.
The line rang twice before Nemuri's sleep slurred voice came through. "Well, if it isn't mister tall, dark, and heroic. You are the press' wet dream right now. Enjoy it while it lasts. To what do I owe the honor, Sir Eraser?"
He rolled his eyes and leaned against the kitchen counter. "Can you not be yourself for five minutes?"
"Only if you can stop waking me up at ungodly hours."
"It's nine. You need to stop complaining about everything."
"Hah! Says the man who gets bitchy if he gets woken up from his in-class nap."
Shota's eye twitched and he got the feeling the exchanges could go on forever if he let them, so he took a deep breath, decided to be the mature one (as usual) and told her he needed her help.
"The district where Mic was attacked. I need you to see if you can find a kid anywhere near there. She was kidnapped, her name is Aoi Yamauchi. Got that?"
"Yeah, I got it. Anything else?" There was an edge to her voice now, and Shota had long ago learned what concern sounded like coming from her. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"He's gonna be fine. His hearing aids were destroyed, though."
Nemuri hissed in sympathy and he couldn't help but agree. "His neck took a beating too, so Recovry Girl doesn't want him talking for a few days. So when you see him, don't try to get him to laugh."
"Shit. Okay, yeah." It was her turn to sigh and Shota waited for her to say anything more on the matter before deciding it was time to hang up when she didn't speak.
"Tell Yamada I'm looking for his lost kiddo."
"Thanks, Nem."
"Sure thing."
He hung up and scrubbed at his eyes when they burned. He didn't have his drops in his pockets so he settled for splashing his face with water from the sink and called it good. His stomach growled before he could exit the area and he paused. As much as he would've rather gone back to sleep, it was technically morning, and he was supposed to be taking care of Hizashi. That meant feeding him when they'd both gone over twelve hours without eating. There wasn't much in the fridge, but he figured they would be fine with some soba left over from the weekend.
When he came back and presented the food Hizashi accepted it with grabby hands. He asked who he'd talked to on the phone and what about and Shota told him he'd let him know after they finished eating. The silence surrounding the meal left him horribly aware of how squishy the noodles sounded when they were chewed, and Shota couldn't stop thinking about how wrong it felt be stuck in so much quiet. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't had to tell Hizashi to slow down and not talk with food in his mouth because it was disgusting. Based on the morose expression his husband wore, he was thinking about the same thing.
When they finished, Shota didn't have time to throw the dishes to soak in the sink before Hizashi was grabbing at his arm with an expectant expression plastered on his face. Shota relayed what he'd asked of Midnight and when he ended the last sign, Hizashi wasted no time pulling him close. He leaned into the hug and returned the embrace. Hizashi clung to him, bunching up the back of his t-shirt between shaking fingers. Shota shushed him even though he wasn't crying, letting his breath hit his ear so Hizashi could feel the soothing noises even if he couldn't hear them. That worked in calming him down, and when Hizashi finally sat back Shota was relieved to see he didn't look so stressed.
However, the loss of that particular brand of tension ended up showcasing how beyond tired Hizashi still looked, something Shota felt down to his bones at any given time. It was a foreign look on his husband, though, and Shota didn't prefer it. He was used to Hizashi's rambunctious attitude, as he coaxed him out of bed while downing his third cup of coffee. He missed Hizashi's infectious energy already, and he'd forgotten how unlike himself he got when he was exhausted and sad. The stormcloud was not something he wanted to stay with the man longer than it needed to, so Shota grabbed his hand and hauled Hizashi off the couch.
It was too light in the living room to go back to sleep, but he had long ago installed heavy curtains in his bedroom when his lack of a proper sleep schedule had become an issue, so it was the ideal place to settle back down. Hizashi only half-heartedly protested, but Shota still shut him down as if he'd truly been against sleeping, signing that he looked like death warmed over, while he felt like it. They were going to sleep, and he didn't want to hear anymore on the matter.
With that said, he helped Hizashi get comfortable on the bed before flopping down beside him. Almost immediately, lean arms wrapped around his waist to pull him close. Shota snorted softly in turn and pushed Hizashi's glasses off his face, setting them down on the side table before he began running his hands through his hair the way he loved. His fingers idly danced through the tangled strands until they brushed the helix of his ears. He paused there, taking care to not press on the tender, recently healed skin while he traced the curve of his ear lazily. Hizashi blinked slowly at him while he did that and Shota sighed heavily when he realized he was waiting for him to say something like, "What are you doing?" or "I should get hurt more often if it means you get so sweet." or something equally, stupidly Hizashi.
He couldn't believe how much he missed hearing his voice already, considering how often he complained about the never ending stream he let loose when they were together. But the silence was unbearable. It wasn't comfy, like the silence he spent with Hizashi in the afterglow on a particularly good day, or companionable, like the silence accompanying them when he graded papers and Hizashi prepared a playlist for his show with his headphones on. It wasn't a homey, good silence. It was lonely. He imagined what it must be like for Hizashi, the man who would never voluntarily stay quiet for as long as he had. It was torture. He didn't need to see the evidence of that swimming in green pools to know, because he felt it.
Even still, though, he could see sadness wasn't the only thing in Hizashi's eyes. Half-lidded as they were, there was a spark of gratitude in there, too. Shota imagined with a look like that he would be saying something like, "thanks for taking care of me, babe." It made Shota want to tell him to shut up again, because of course he would take care of him. Hizashi was the only person in the world he would drop even his students for… as long as he knew they were in capable hands. He would do anything for him.
The smile that made its way to his face was small and probably showcased every tired shadow on his face, but he got the impression that Hizashi didn't care when he leaned in closer to press their foreheads together, a sigh that almost sounded content leaving him despite the situation. Shota removed his hand from his face then, catching Hizashi's attention when he brought it close to his chest.
"I love you."
Hizashi saw the sign, but Shota knew his real attention was on his mouth, where the last vowel sound still sat on his tongue.
Hizashi's smile was as bright as always and Shota inwardly cheered at being able to drag that out of him. Making Hizashi smile might not have been a difficult task, but it was always rewarding, especially when he wasn't feeling particularly happy to start. Shota closed his eyes and hoped the moment would last.
"I love you, too."
Hizashi's voice was hoarse, but it was there, not his imagination, and Shota's eyes flew back open to stare. Hizashi's brows were knitted together in a way that spoke of the discomfort he no doubt felt in his throat, but he didn't seem to regret his decision. The smile he shot him was so full of typical Hizashi ridiculousness that it was the most comforting sight he'd seen all day. Shota couldn't stop himself from kissing him if he'd wanted to.
Hizashi made an appreciative noise in the made of his throat when his hand came back up to cup his face and Shota snorted before pressing his lips to Hizashi's. The feeling of hands lazily trailing up and down his spine had him smiling a bit more into the kiss before he tilted his head to slot their mouths together better. Hizashi sighed and let his eyes flutter closed.
Shota knew he should've scolded him about using his voice right after he'd been told not to, but it was the first time he'd heard it in almost two days, and he wasn't about to ruin the moment. Besides, after what he'd pulled during his healing days after USJ, Shota didn't think he could lecture anyone about testing the limits on injuries without calling himself a hypocrite.
He broke the kiss then, and Hizashi peered at him with a soft smile, chasing after him long enough to plant a chaste peck on his chin. Shota shook his head in endearment at him and decided he could continue being so affectionate if it meant dragging those smiles out of Hazashi. They'd been at a disadvantage last time, he decided, because with his face wrapped up the way it had been, they'd missed out on that particular aspect of staying home. Shota decided that he was going to take full advantage of it now, because it made Hizashi happier than if he'd just let them drift off to sleep in silence.
He kissed him again, on the cheek, and then the forehead. Slow, lingering touches to his skin, and every time he brought his lips to a different part of his face, Hizashi's eyes closed more and more while his smile continued to widen. When Shota finally stopped, Hizashi had started to doze and he felt tired enough to sleep for a week.
He dropped his head onto his husband's chest, mindful of the side with the sore rib, and let Hizashi tangle their legs together in his half-asleep haze, before finally letting his own eyes rest. They would have a lot to do when they woke up- get Hizashi's hearing fixed, talk with Midnight about the success of her mission -because he had no doubt she'd find Aoi- and check in with Recovery Girl for an assessment. But for the time being, Shota was content with listening to Hizashi's breath even out before the darkness of sleep claimed him as well.