Warmth. That's the first thing his body registers as the first threads of consciousness wrap around his mind, tugging and pulling. He senses it, seeping down to his very core as he wakes up from what feels like the most restful sleep he's had in a while.
It takes a few moments for Izuku's senses to stretch out and take in his surroundings, and even longer for him to remember exactly where he was at the moment. The warmth underneath him moves and it takes all of his well-honed instincts for him not to lose his composure. He does let out what can only be interpreted as a squeak when he realizes where he fell asleep last night.
Shinsou, still blissfully asleep and unaware of the human being he's currently clutching in his grasp like a glorified teddy bear, only hums and pulls him closer until Izuku's head ends up on his chest, face burrowed into the teen's shirt.
To his mortification, the noise he unwillingly lets out actually wakes up the subject of his panic this time.
He listens with an enthralled kind of fascination to Shinsou's lungs as they slowly lose their slow and even pace, breaking the rhythm that's been reaching his ears. He can even pinpoint the exact moment Shinsou seemed to realize the awkward position they were currently in. The echo of the teen's heart almost stuttering as it changed and sped up.
"G-good morning." Comes the uncharacteristic greeting, the stuttering only serves to emphasize Shinsou's nervousness.
"Morning," Izuku mumbles tentatively. When the teen doesn't make any immediate move to let go of him, he ventures even further. "Are you… going to let me go?" He doesn't mind, not really. The warmth and sheer safety he feels at the moment would be a testament to that. However, he can't help but feel a little overwhelmed. It's been a long time since he's had this much contact with… really anyone at all.
"Oh." As if just noticing his arm was still wrapped around Izuku's back, Shinsou lets go immediately. "S-Sorry." And it takes all of his resolve not to pull the teen back into the impromptu hug, then and there.
The sudden loss of warmth makes his body shiver involuntarily, but he ignores it. He straightens up until his back is rested against the table behind them. They must've fallen asleep on the floor last night.
"I-it's okay." It seems the nerves were getting to him too. "W-what time is it?" Idly he wonders where he left his phone. The room was a total mess, considering the way Shinsou took the news last night.
"It's 9 am, I can't believe we slept that much." Shinsou huffs, moving to sit next to Izuku.
"Well, Mr. Insomniac, with your sleeping schedule it was bound to happen."
"Speak for yourself, your destructive sleeping habits were bound to rub off on me eventually. Shadow." Shinsou singsongs, his features stretching into what Izuku can only assume is a smirk.
Izuku can't stop the grin that grows and mirrors the teen's expression, almost subconsciously. Glad to see that no matter what happens, their relationship wasn't going to change.
It was probably selfish of him to want this. Selfish and cruel.
Familiar chains of doubt seem to grow like vines, threatening to suffocate him from the inside out. Guilt and dread growing and expanding in the pit of his stomach. However, before his mind can fall into the all too familiar spiral of overwhelming dark thoughts, he feels a hand clutch his own.
"You okay there, green?" Just as fast as he went in, he feels himself break free. The reminder of just what he had gained last night making the storm brewing in his mind settle.
"Y-yeah, I was just thinking I should probably get going." He stands up as he says this. "Aizawa and Tsukauchi wanted me to come to the station first thing in the morning."
They gather his stuff, Shinsou insisting that he'd clean his room after Izuku left. Not accepting the help offered by the green-haired boy.
However, just as he's about to walk back out of the window and onto the fire escape. Shinsou speaks up.
"Wait, Izuku."
Tilting his head to the side in confusion, he waits for the boy to gather his thoughts.
"I- I want you to promise me something." Breathing in deeply, as if to brace himself for something, the teen soldiers on. "Promise that you won't disappear again. That you won't go back to relentlessly working day and night. I don't want to see you waste away like this okay? I- I want to spend time with you and we can- I don't know…" Shinsou's distress seems to only grow as he continues. "We can make a list. Things you want to do, anything at all. Whatever you want, I promise we can do it. But I need to do this with you okay? There's nothing I want more."
The tear that slips unbidden down his cheek is a great contrast to the bright smile that stretches across his features. "I already have one actually." He finds himself confessing, the sadness in his voice almost palpable. "A long time ago, back when I was still at the orphanage. I- I had this list." A sad smile replacing the one he wore as he continued. The memory of his younger self, curled up on his small bed at night, writing into his notebook. Bruises from both training and unwanted encounters visible on his skin as he imagined the things he wanted to do in the eight years he had left.
Eight years didn't sound so bad now…
"What was on it?"
"Silly things, really. Small things. I can show you if you want, it's still somewhere with my old stuff."
"I'd like that. Yeah."
With a nod he hops onto the metallic structure, making his way towards the warehouse to gather his stuff.
He does, however, send Shinsou one text he knows will reassure the teen.
To Insomniac:
'I Promise.'
"Your late problem child." This is the first thing Aizawa grumbles as he sees Izuku walk into the police station.
"I- uh- I'm sorry, it took more time than I thought to pack everything I wanted to take." More like more time to figure out whether he wanted to bring his suit with him or not. In the end, he opted for his suit without the weapons.
"Is that everything?" He pretends to act startled as Tsukauchi makes his way from behind him until he's standing next to Aizawa.
He feels his hand subconsciously tighten around the strap of his bag. The black, barely holding by a thread, duffle bag holds within it, the only possessions he has in this world.
His expression must have given away something for the two adults don't make any further comment.
"We'll be going then," Aizawa says to Tsukauchi instead, hand coming up to shake the man's own. "Thank you for helping speed up the process."
The detective nods at that. "I'll see you around. Good luck Midoriya."
Izuku almost goes for his signature snarky reply but stops himself just short of saying it. He never meant for his two worlds to collide like this, after all.
"Thank you, Detective." Something changes in the detective's demeanor at his words but it's gone before he can decipher it.
Aizawa is already ushering him out of the station before he can think it over too much.
"Are we taking a car?" He hopes the anxiety that rushes through him at the sheer thought isn't showing on his face.
"Yes, a cab," Aizawa answers absentmindedly but stops short a moment later. His sudden halt almost knocking Izuku off his feet as he barely manages not to stumble right into the man.
"W-Wha-"
"Here." The man says not unkindly. Izuku tilts his head to the side, waiting for the hero to explain. As to not give himself away. "You can take my arm if you want, it will be easier that way." The man elaborates finally.
"What about the-"
"It's not too far. Walking there would only be logical." It seems his anxiety must've shown after all. Not knowing how to react to the man's thoughtfulness, Izuku opts to take the man's arm instead. Hoping then nod he sends his way is enough to convey his gratefulness.
The walk is silent but comfortable as they make their way to the teacher's apartments near Yuei. At least that where Aizawa says they're going.
Officially he'll be the school's ward but he'll be staying with Aizawa for the foreseeable future.
When they get there, the apartment building stands tall. Izuku figures from its size alone that it's one of the expansive style buildings.
The lobby is quiet as they walk in, a lady at the desk greets Aizawa warmly as they both make their way to the elevator.
Izuku doesn't quite catch the floor they stop at, elevators were always disorienting to him. The motion and constant wiring sound making it harder for him to focus his senses. So, when the door slides open with a resounding ding, he just moves in step with Aizawa, making a mental note to ask him for the floor number later.
They walk through a short hallway. Having been holding onto Aizawa's arm until now, Izuku's cane remains folded up neatly in his bag, so, he settles for running his hand over the wall as they walk. Mentally taking note of the turns they take and the steps they make.
New spaces were always complicated to discover. Especially if he was to spend a lot of time here.
"I'm going to give you a tour of the apartment but don't hesitate to ask if you need help finding anything or if you need assistance in getting used to it all."
"Sure." He tries not to let his surprise show.
They walk into the second room down the hall, just two turns from the elevator lift. The place is spacious. It's the first thing he notices upon entering. Instead of taking note of what is there. His mind immediately goes to what isn't. The empty spaces he sees through his sense serve to form a simplistic mental image. Somehow, he's not surprised at that.
Aizawa walks him through the apartment, starting with the kitchen that's not too far from the entrance. Through there, they make their way through the different rooms.
"This is the living room. There two couches near the middle, a big one and small armchair next to it. In front of both are two coffee tables and a TV set just ahead." Aizawa even lets him guide his hand through the different structures at his own pace. Not that Izuku needs it all that much. The noise coming from the windows lining the living room and the general white noise the building itself generates is enough to paint a good enough picture of the objects around him. However, he can't help but take his opportunity when Aizawa tells him about the glass windows that replace any kind of wall on the other side of the living room. A balcony of sorts, however, it's not meant for venturing.
"It's a nice view you got there."
"Well it's-" Aizawa seems to remember mid-sentence just what that sentence implied. The man cuts himself off abruptly and Izuku can practically feel the glare aimed his way. "Problem child." The murmur isn't meant to reach his ears. However, nothing much escapes his senses, so he does his best not to burst into laughter as he hears the man grumble under his breath about dark humor and stupid teenagers.
"Sorry, it's just really fun to see how long it takes someone to realize." He doesn't know if this crossed some sort of line. He's known the man for a long time now, however, to the hero, he was barely a stranger. Maybe, he should've waited before testing the waters. "But uh… you know, Mr Aizawa," The man, who's been only halfheartedly paying attention until now, stands straighter at that. Giving Izuku his full, rapt attention. "I can still go back. You don't have to do all this for me. I can take care of myself and besides I wouldn't want to be a burden." Getting to go with Shinsou and the class to the training camp would help him but he can still find a way to protect them without going with Aizawa. He needed the man to know that if he wanted, Izuku would give him an out.
"You need to believe me when I say kid. If I didn't want you here, you wouldn't be." The man answers seriously. His heart rate steady and true to his words. The doubt must've still been showing on his expression though, for the man continues after a moment. As if to drive the point home. "Besides, how else am I going to find someone to enjoy this nice view with me?" The smirk Izuku can practically picture on the man's face evaporates the moment he seems to catch onto his own words. With a speed that makes him question if the underground hero was actually running away, the man walks towards the hallway. Grumbling about problem children all the way.
However, just as Izuku thinks the man's going to leave him to explore the rest of the apartment on his own, the hero just short of the doorway. "You coming, Problem child?"
"Hai!"
They go through the rest of the house in a similar fashion. His room turns out to be the one right across from Aizawa's bedroom, a bathroom is the only thing separating them.
The room he's given is the biggest he's ever had. Not to mention the actual bed he gets to have. Izuku can happily say now that there'll be no more warehouse couches in his future. It almost takes his breath away, the thought of having this room to call his own. If only for a little while.
By the end of the tour and their little exploration expedition, Aizawa tells him to make himself comfortable, informing him that if he wanted the water to be hot, this would be the perfect time to take a bath. However, Izuku can't help but feel it's a jab to his hygiene.
He's made do with what he had at his disposal while he lived at the warehouse. Whether it was from public bathrooms or gas station showers. He knows he's not that dirty, his senses wouldn't let him survive through a day if he was. However, he can't help the excitement he feels bubbling up at the prospect of a proper bath and shower.
So, with that new, exciting prospect in mind, he makes his way to the bathroom, his spare set of clothes in hand.
The smell of soap accosts his senses, hitting him at full force as soon as he walks into the room. Aizawa had already shown him where the shower and the bath were. However, he can't help but marvel at the sheer space the room held. Nothing like the cramped showers he used to speed through. The smell was lighter and easier to bear here. No sign of filth or rust.
Stripping down, he makes sure to fold his clothes neatly on the counter next to the sink. The empty space above it makes it painfully clear that there's a mirror there. Barely managing to stifle a sigh, he tries not to linger too much on the thought. His hand absentmindedly coming up to rake through his hair. Getting tangled in his untamable curls in the process. He tries to picture what he must look like. Long green curly hair, falling like curtains around his face. Well-honed muscles tainted with the countless scars marring his skin. He concludes he wouldn't make a pretty picture.
Breathing deeply through his mouth, he steps under the showerhead. Hands coming up to reach for the handles. He retracts his fingers just as soon as he makes contact with the metal though. Mind immediately conjuring any feasible excuse for what he thinks he just felt on the designated surface. Because there was no way right?
Tentative fingers reach back towards the metal surface. Almost as if afraid to find out whether he was right or not. To his shock and slight awe, he finds that this was indeed what he thought it was.
Braille, printed onto waterproof stickers, labeling the different degrees of temperature and pressure.
An unidentifiable emotion surges through him at that moment. A rush of something akin to gratitude and pure awe.
No one has ever gone through this much trouble for him. It's overwhelming really.
For the second time that day, he feels tears spill unwittingly down his cheeks. No one has ever cared enough to do this for him before. Even back at the orphanage, he's always had to rely on his senses, which was at times more exhausting than he could possibly explain.
He showers slowly, selfishly wanting to take advantage of warm water and the sheer amount of cleanness that seeps into his body with every minute he spends scrubbing and washing.
The bath he immerses himself in afterward is nothing short of a blessing to his worn muscles and joints. So much that he finds himself fully submerging himself until the outside sounds are nothing but background noise to his ears. Water has always served well to either amplify his senses during the rain or suppress them. It's peaceful, really.
The calmness of the water lulls him into a sense of security, one he finds himself reluctant to leave. The inevitable need to come up for air, however, wins over his will to stay hidden in this newly found haven.
He makes quick work of drying himself off afterward. Putting on his other set of street clothes. One of the only three he owns. A black hoodie, torn at the sleeves, and some worn-out grey sweatpants.
Aizawa having just stepped out of his room stops short just as Izuku exits the bathroom.
"You need a haircut kid." The man says, voice sounding almost bored.
Izuku finds himself self-consciously reaching for his hair. His curls, still wet and dripping are even longer than usual.
He can't help the snarky response that comes out of his mouth before he can think better of it. "You're not really one to talk, your hair is even longer than mine." At the awkward pause, he tries to salvage what little credibility he has. "A-at least that's what Shinsou tells me."
"I don't see your point." It takes him a moment to figure out that the man is actually playing along. The same feeling of gratefulness and gratitude swell in his heart at that.
Which reminds him.
"I- uh – also wanted to thank you for… you know, the b-braille labels you put up in the bathroom. No one has-"Bracing himself for the small confession he was about to make, he plows on. Aizawa needed to understand just how thankful he was. "No one has ever done anything like this for me before. So, uh" Rubbing his arm nervously, he tries to level his gaze with the man. Hoping he's not missing the target by much. "So thank you, Mr. Aizawa."
The silence stretches and Izuku thinks that maybe he made a mistake and revealed too much. However, it's a moment later that Aizawa responds. Voice even and heartbeat ringing true.
"Basic human decency isn't something to praise. Your last caretakers really were idiots weren't they." The smile that forms on his face as he hears the man's words is all too sincere. "And you can drop the honorifics Kid, I am your guardian now, after all."
Maybe this arrangement wouldn't be so bad, after all.
He wonders what he did to deserve all this.