They'd decided this arrangement early on. In fact, he hadn't even been conscious to give his vote in the matter.

Toshinori could hardly take care of himself, let alone care for a man as injured as Shouta, so he was nearly instantly cut from their pool of options for his care, even if he'd desperately hoped to help in some way. Hizashi was eager to help out, but too damned loud for his own good, not to mention that he panicked at the idea of having to touch Shouta's wounds. In the end, Nemuri had been his best option. She was calm, took his well-being seriously, and despite all outward appearances, was gentle in every sense of the word when it mattered.

And so, after 14 days, he was discharged from the hospital and she was given instructions on how to properly nurse his head injuries. Thus began their lives as roommates.

"He may be visually impaired."

Those words leaving the doctor's mouth had left a deep pool of dread in Shouta's gut that he hadn't been able to shake in the week since he'd left the hospital and temporarily moved in with Kayama. When he wasn't kept awake by the pain, he was kept awake by the thought of the world remaining dark once those bandages finally came off. They had of course been assured that any impairment would most likely be temporary, and perhaps not even very severe, but still, fears of permanently becoming blind tormented him.

Visually impaired? The hero Eraser Head couldn't be visually impaired! If he was unable to see, how would he be able to activate his quirk? It would mean an end to his career! It would mean being unable to protect his students if-..he dared not think about anything happening to class 1-A again. He had enough nightmares about that as it was.

Shouta sighed, leaning against the wall of the tub. 'Don't dwell on thoughts like that, Aizawa. You're gonna make yourself sick with grief.' He told himself, even if it was hard not to think of things so pessimistically given his condition.

What felt like an entire roll's worth of gauze and padding covered his eyes and most of his nose, protecting the delicate stitch work that took up the upper half of his face. The results of 11 1/2 hours spent on an operating table to rebuild his fractured skull. His entire body ached from the brutal beating of the Nomu, and both arms were bound tightly in water resistant bandages, rendering the limbs useless. He felt useless.

Suddenly, delicate footsteps approached the bath, the squeaking turn of the faucet and the quiet 'thunk' of the drain closing pulled him from his doubtful wallowing, and he lifted his gaze towards the sound, knowing who stood there.

'Nemuri.'

The woman got to her knees and brushed a gentle hand against his cheek, mindful of the bruising and stitches beneath her fingers. She had noticed during their first week that without his eyesight, Shouta seemed to find comfort in physical reassurance. The tenseness of his body seemed to ease under her touch, and his sigh of relief brought a half-smile to her lips.

"Sorry that took so long, Shouta. I was trying to get together everything I needed to change your bandages as soon as we get finished with the bath."

'It's fine.' He'd wanted to say, but the words couldn't quite find their way out of his mouth. The water grew warm as it pooled around Shouta's hips, and the sensation relaxed him further. This bath was the first normal thing he'd gotten to experience in a number of weeks, and whatever apprehension he felt about changing his bandages melted away for the time being. He had no need to speak. The look on his face told Nemuri everything she needed to know.

A few minutes passed before she switched off the faucet, satisfied with the level of the water, and stood to remove her bath robe. Nemuri hung the robe on its hook, tied her long black tresses into a messy bun, and padded back to the tub, stepping in and sitting down behind Shouta, her fingers grazing his shoulder to make him aware of her position as she sat.

"The water isn't too hot, is it?"

"No." Came his soft reply.

"Good." She breathed, cupping her hands in the water before raising them to pour the warm liquid over his head.

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes while Nemuri went about washing Shouta's hair. It was much shorter now since his surgery, she noted, combing through the shorn locks with her fingers. She had a feeling he could tell the difference in its length, but didn't bring it up out loud in case that bothered him. He winced slightly from her touch, but it really couldn't be avoided, considering the beating his skull had taken at the USJ.

Reaching around Aizawa's back, Nemuri took hold of the shower head she'd already gotten down and turned the faucet to its lowest setting. She spent a moment adjusting the temperature, and then carefully placed her free hand over his eyes and rinsed the shampoo from his hair. Shouta sighed in innocent pleasure as the warm water cascaded down his back and shoulders, and Nemuri's warm half-smile grew fonder. It was nice to see him relax for a change.

Turning off the water once again and replacing the shower head, Nemuri placed her hands on Shouta's shoulders and guided him back until he was partially reclined against her chest. At first, Aizawa seemed mildly apprehensive about the direct skin to skin contact between them, but didn't fight her, knowing it was time to remove his wrappings.

"Just relax, Shouta." She murmured, her nimble fingers playing with his hair for a moment before finding the edge of the soaked gauze tape that wrapped around his head. Slowly, carefully, she unwound the bandages, until finally they gave way to reveal the numerous intricate lines of sutures that surrounded his eyes and laced over the bridge of his nose.

Shouta's skin was mottled with bruises in various stages of healing, and there were several patches of swollen flesh. It wasn't exactly the prettiest sight. She frowned at how weary he looked.

Once she'd freed him, Shouta laid his head in the crook between Nemuri's neck and shoulder and simply sat that way awhile, enjoying the feeling of not having to hold himself upright for a bit. The warmth of the bath was soothing to his aches, and the air felt cool on his damp, freshly exposed lids.

The pressure in his sinuses seemed to wain, and he decided it might be worth it to chance opening his eyes. It would be the first time he'd done so since he'd woken up at the hospital.

'Better to face my fears and find out now rather than later.' He mused.

Shouta drew in a deep breath, sat up slightly, and let his eyes flutter open just a sliver. At first the brightness of the room was too much, and he was forced to snap them shut as soon as they'd opened; but after a few more blinks, he adjusted to the light and tried to focus. Everything was rather blurry, the room in front of him a mess of multicolored blobs that spun from a mild case of vertigo. Perhaps this was the impairment the doctor had referred to.

Aizawa groaned in discomfort and closed his eyes once more to stop the room from spinning. He felt Nemuri's gentle hands guide him back to lay against her once more, having sensed his distress. She held him still while his wave of dizziness passed. When he opened them again, he saw her face, albeit fuzzily, for the first time since the fight at the USJ. She smiled down at him and cupped his cheek softly in her hand, watching as his dark irises finally seemed to find some focus.

"Good to see..well, that you can see."

"I'm glad to see.." He mumbled tiredly.

'I'm glad to see you.' He'd wanted to say, but had decided that had somehow seemed inappropriate at the last minute, even if he couldn't place why.

He returned her smile with his own lazy one, attempting to raise an arm to cover her hand with his own before she stopped him, easing the injured limb back down to rest at his side, scolding him with a soft 'tsk-tsk, Shouta'. In the end, he settled for simply leaning into her touch, content with the tenderness of their physical contact as she held him. It felt..comfortable. Right.

They remained that way for several minutes, lying flush against each other; Shouta had nearly fallen asleep, Nemuri having to rouse him to finish, even though she was reluctant to disturb him, wishing that they could remain close like this a while longer. But they really did need to get this over with. His facial stitches were only supposed to be exposed for half an hour at a time.

"Come on sleepyhead..let's finish what we started so you can get back to bed." She whispered into the younger man's ear.

"Can we do this again..? In bed, I mean." He breathed against her neck, eyes half-lidded and not really focused any more.

A half-hearted smirk graced her lips, even if he couldn't see it.

"Maybe."