Full Summary: Shouta and Yagi meet one rainy night where a series of bad choices (on Shouta's part mostly as his survival instinct is weak as frick) leads to an odd but precious relationship.
Shouta loves him, loves his paintings, his coffee, his smile. To him, Yagi's brighter than the sun. Their secret little friendship meant more to him than he'd admit.
Yagi adores Shouta, wants to care for him and see him every morning. He wants to be there when the hero feels weak, to be there when he's happy. But he can't, not with such a huge secret weighing on him...
...and then All Might comes to teach at UA.
--
It was his little secret when it started.
It wasn't that Shouta was ashamed of it or anything; there just wasn't much to tell. Besides, keeping it secret made it feel more...intimate, he supposed. More meaningful. Everyone had secrets. Hizashi didn't like people to know that he once needed speech therapy. Nemuri, despite her shameless hero persona, didn't like people to know who she was dating mostly because she didn't want people to hassle them. Everyone had secrets and it was no big deal. So he didn't see any problem with keeping those nights to himself, not even when nights turned to days. Nor when he found himself foolishly, hopelessly in love.
It was a Sunday night with heavy rain, the roads and sidewalks wet and slick; not an ideal situation for a stake out or a fight. Shouta could barely see in front of him. He faintly remembered his own teachers telling him to run when the odds were so highly stacked against him, remembered telling his own students to use any tactic or escape in situations like this not even a month ago, but he ignored it all.
All the signs showed this villian, a serial killer targeting single young men, leaving town in the next few days. After a confrontation with a hero, known or underground, this woman was surely going to skip town as soon as possible.
She got in a few nicks and cuts but not much more before Shouta could finally capture her, wrapped up in his scarf. For someone committing such a serious crime, she didn't put up much of a fight. Then again, she caught all her victims by surprise, and Shouta, having tailed her all day, was anything but surprised. Well, not anything. Just exhausted and sore. Even though she hadn't gotten any good hits in, he still had aches all over his body from losing his balance and crouching in a dumpster all day. Not to mention the fact that he hadn't slept a wink in about twenty four hours.
He unceremoniously dumped his capture of the night at the police station, filled out the paperwork, and dragged himself back outside. The rain was so heavy, he couldn't see ahead of him, but he'd walked this route enough times in his life that he didn't need to see. Or so he thought, anyhow.
Looking around didn't help him figure out where he'd gotten turned around at. Not only could he not see, this whole road was unfamiliar territory. Where was his apartment, and where the heck did all these nice houses come from? Shouta glared at the house in front of him, the light blue paint bright and the flowerbeds well tended, like it was the source of all his problems. He held onto the house's front gate to steady himself as his legs buckled slightly from exhaustion, scowling. They were going to do this now? In front of a stranger's house? He didn't notice blue eyes peeking through the house's yellow curtains, and he didn't turn his head to look in curiosity when the door opened. They were just going to chase him away anyhow, weren't they?
"Sir?! Are you alright?!" Oh, that was a surprise; he expected then to yell or something but this guy sounded concerned, genuinely concerned. "What are you doing out here without an umbrella? Come inside and get warmed up!"
Shouta didn't want to; it was a bad idea no matter how he looked at it. But the desire for a warm place to rest overrode his logic and usually sharp senses and he found himself following the man inside without much of a second thought.
"I'll make you some coffee. Or would you prefer tea?" Shouta mumbled something that sounded vaguely like coffee, too busy looking around the room. This man either made them or he collected them but his All Might collection would probably put even the most extreme fanatic to shame. "Sorry about all...that." The man laughed softly. "I get a lot of it free, but it feels bad to just throw it out."
"You're not a fan?" He didn't really care one way or another but he figured some conversation would make the other man more comfortable about inviting a stranger into his house. The man laughed again, louder this time. It was a nice sound.
"Not exactly, no. You could say I'm more an acquaintance." There was something about the way the man said that that convinced Shouta he wasn't telling the full story. Whatever; they were strangers, there was no reason for him to tell him everything. "Here, coffee. It might be a bit burnt, but it'll still warm you up." Shouta finally looked at the stranger, and damn, he was tall. "I'll go get you some dry clothes. You can change in the restroom, the first door on the left of the hallway."
Shouta just nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. It had sugar in it, which he usually hated, but he wasn't going to complain. Coffee was coffee and good coffee was heaven. This was good coffee, actually. He'd have to remember to ask the tall blond where he got it from.
Shouta watched from the corner of his eye as the man came back. He was tall, easily six foot something, blond with fluffy hair, and his clothes hung off of his skinny frame like they weren't really his own. He had sunken blue eyes; Shouta saw something familiar in them, the look of someone who'd just seen too much of the world, all its ugliest parts. A soldier? Cop? Former hero, perhaps?
"Here. They might be a bit baggy, sorry. I'll put your clothes in the dryer for you if that's ok?" The blond man smiled and Shouta wanted to slap himself for thinking that it was kind of cute.
"Sure." He left to go change, thankful for the bathroom's lack of All Might merchandise. He didn't think he could comfortably change with those creepy blue eyes watching him from everywhere. He threw his own clothes down, hearing the soaked clothing hit the floor with a loud splat. Gross. He pulled on the dry clothes, not paying attention to the dozens of bruises all over his body. That was just the price of hero work.
"Where's the dryer?" Aizawa asked, his wet clothes, sans his capture weapon which was still wrapped around his neck, balled up in his arms. The man pointed him to the laundry room, which was right across the hall from the room he'd changed clothes in. He chucked them in and started it like he would in his own house. Well, if he did his laundry that often anyway. Without even a hint of shyness or politeness, he walked back into the living room where he'd left his mug of coffee. The man had even refilled it for him.
He was oddly kind, but, despite knowing that he logically should, Shouta couldn't find it in him to be suspicious of the radiant man. He was hiding something but somehow he still felt genuine. "I was watching a movie earlier. If you'd like, I can rewind it and we can watch together while your clothes dry. It's called 'The Cat Returns.'"
Hell yeah. "Sure." Shouta replied as if he didn't actually care. Hizashi had gotten him to watch the movie—and several studio Ghibli films—after a ton of pestering, and he was only mildly embarrassed to say that he loved them (mostly because Hizashi would gloat.) He especially loved The Cat Returns; the cat kingdom was like a place out out of his dreams.
He felt himself drifting off even before the title showed. Warm, dry, and more at ease than he should be...It was a fight between his exhaustion and survival instincts, keeping him on the very verge of falling asleep while remaining, just barely conscious.
His survival instinct was apparently the weakest part of him. Figures.
He woke up feeling more rested than he had in months, his face buried in the fluffiest pillows he'd ever felt in his life. Birds were chirping right outside the window. He heard clattering, the sound of cooking food, but the bed was too warm, too comfortable, for him to even think about getting up. Wait, the bed?
He sat upright, feeling like a fool for not having noticed it earlier. How had be woken up in bed when he drifted off on the couch? A stranger's couch no less! He quickly checked his pockets; he was still wearing that stranger's shirt and sweatpants. Wallet, keys, phone...all there. He didn't have any bruises or marks on him that weren't there before. His clothes weren't messed up or removed. Aside from the fact that he'd done something stupid enough to make him doubt his sanity, he was fine. Nothing had happened.
He was still stupid for letting his guard down.
Grumpily he staggered into the kitchen, following the heavenly smell of coffee. He glared at the tall blond man with his stupid fluffy hair and brighter than the sun smile despite foolishly accepting the mug from him. "Who the hell are you, and why was I in your bed?" Shouta shot venomously. Holy crap, the coffee was even better than last night's.
"Don't you remember? I invited you in last night. You looked like you were about to die!" The man cheerily continued making his omelette. "You fell asleep so I let you take the bed. I slept on the couch! Don't worry!" The man looked slightly red faced. "Ah, your clothes are dry, by the way!"
"You're a bit calm for someone who let a stranger into their house." Shouta continued to glare. "I'll ask one more time; who are you?"
"My name's Yagi. Yagi Toshinori." The man replied, scooting the omelette out of the pan and onto a plate. "It's not the first time; I don't like seeing people hurt if I can help it." He put two pieces of buttered toast on top and set the plate on the dining table. "I know you probably have places to be but have breakfast before you go! It's the most important meal of the day!"
"Bulls—" Shouta remembered with a start something he really shouldn't have forgotten. He pulled out his phone to see several missed calls from Hizashi. Hitting the call back button, he pressed his phone to his ear with one hand while anxiously messing with his hair with the other. "'Zashi, I—"
"SHOUTA!" The black haired man winced in pain as his best friend screeched into his phone. "I was so worried! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! It's chaos without you! Please tell me you're getting back from the stakeout!"
"Stakeout went fine. I just fell asleep somewhere, that's all. I'm going to be a bit late so cover my classes for me, would you?" Shouta reported in as he went to get his clothes, pulling them out of the dryer with his one free hand.
"Knew it! HEY, NEMURI! TELL ECTO HE OWES US! WE WON THE BET!" Hissing in pain, Shouta pulled the phone far away from his ear. "YEAH! I'll cover for you, no problem! I love your kids this year!"
Shouta didn't even bother to thank him before he hung up. Hizashi wouldn't mind; he knew him well enough to know that phone calls just made the Erasure hero anxious for reasons he couldn't quite explain. Besides, they were best friends. There was no reason to worry about common manners with him.
He changed, pulling the baggy, plain white T-shirt Yagi had loaned him over his head, taking time to examine his bruises before pulling off the navy blue sweatpants as well. His side was decorated with black, blue, and spots of healing yellow in-between. Some he knew were from old fights, training his students, and from running into crappy furniture at home. Others he could identify by soreness were from last night. He'd lost his balance more than once, had been stuck in a dumpster for hours while the metal edges inside jabbed at his ribs, and had fought an armed serial killer with limited visibility. A few bruises were to be expected.
He pulled his black jumpsuit back on and adjusted his scarf. He needed new goggles; his current pair had recently been busted. The lasted a few years though; that's pretty good for hero equipment. It gets more wear and tear than anything else after all. Fully dressed and a hundred percent ready to refuse to eat anything any skeletal blond tried to feed him, he stepped out of the bathroom.
"I'm going. Thanks for the coffee and sleep." Shouta grumbled as he glanced over at the man. "I don't eat food from strangers. But thanks anyway." Yagi looked down at the plate, somewhat disappointed. If Shouta was as tired as he was last night, he might've caved or felt guilty. But now at least he could think clearly enough to stop himself.
"Take care of yourself!" The blond man waved him off after shoving an umbrella in his hands. "The weather report's calling for rain." He didn't get a chance to refuse before Yagi was bringing his rejected omelette over to the house next door. An elderly woman answered the door and accepted the meal happily.
I was stupid last night, Shouta thought as he drug himself home, relying on Google's instructions to get him back. He tugged at his scarf as he thought, I was stupid, but it could've been worse. At least the person I stupidly trusted is honest.
It wasn't until much later that he'd catch himself wondering about why Yagi hadn't just eaten it himself.
--
"It's a cold." Nemuri decisively announced, checking the thermometer. "Shouta, you had an umbrella when you got here yesterday! Why didn't you use it on your stakeout?" He just scowled at her from inside his warm sleeping bag. "Honestly! You're a teacher! Your students will be using you as a role model, you know!"
"You're one to talk." He shot back, his voice hoarse. She just grinned in reply.
"See, Hizashi? He's going to be just fine!" The blond stopped pacing for just a moment before finding something else to worry about. "Don't worry if he has enough energy to be sarcastic, he'll be alright!"
"But...Shouta, you don't have anything at home for colds or anything do you? OH GOD! We have to get to the store QUICK! SHOUTA'S GOING TO DIE!" The sick man in question sighed. Looked like he was going to the store today whether he liked it or not.
Turns out, when you're sick, you have to eat sick people food like soup or some other kind of light but nutritional meal. That was good; it made eating less of an effort. Even when healthy, he wasn't fond of eating heavy meals. The downside of it, because nothing in his life was ever good without a catch, was that there were too many types of canned soup.
"You'll be fine here, right? I'm going to help Hizashi get medicine before he tries to buy the whole pharmacy." Nemuri didn't even wait for a reply before she left. It wasn't like she was going to get one even if she'd stayed; Shouta was too busy staring at the wall of canned soup in front of him.
Why were there so many kinds? Why was a simple chicken and rice or tomato soup not good enough for anyone anymore? What was the point of getting fancy with canned soup? It's just canned soup! Sick and feeling somewhat lost, he scanned the isle before picking the cheapest and smallest can of chicken and rice he could find.
"That one's the cheapest, but it's mostly water. The one right above it is a bit more expensive, but it's better for you when you're sick." A familiar voice advised him. Shouta glanced up to see Yagi leaning over him, concern in his blue eyes. Damn, they were really blue...It was only when Yagi's cheeks flushed a bright red that Shouta realised he'd said that aloud.
Being sick is weird.
The sneeze that followed his unintentional complement hurt so bad he expected more blood than mucus. Groaning, he shoved his hand in his pocket for a tissue just to come up empty. "Here. I carry a lot around with me." Yagi handed him a whole mini-pack. He nodded in thanks before blowing his nose, not in the mood to care about how gross the sound was. "Do you have any medicine or anything at home?" For a stranger, Yagi was way too concerned about others.
"My friends are getting stuff. I'm in charge of soup." Shouta replied, completely deadpan. Yagi chuckled.
"You're lucky to have such nice friends." Yagi smiled, putting a few cans of tomato soup into his shopping basket. "They must care a lot for you." Shouta shrugged even as a smile threatened to show on his face. "Are they pro heroes as well?" The black haired man froze up, fixing Yagi with a suspicious stare.
"'I never told you I was a hero." Yagi didn't look bothered by the fact that Shouta was on edge around him; he just organized the cans of soup in his basket.
"My close friend is a detective; I know about a lot of underground heros!" He chuckled again. "Plus, I've met you once before when I was working. You were probably too busy to notice. Not that I blame you; I look different when I'm working." Yagi's smile fell and his bright eyes dulled. "Much different."
"Hmm." They parted ways there, Shouta picking up a can of the soup Yagi recommended instead and putting his first choice back on the shelf. Nemuri and Hizashi came back shortly after.
"We've got tissues, sinus medicine, daytime cold medicine for school, and cough syrup! You got your food choices?" Shouta put two cans in their basket, stretching after squatting down for so long.
"SHOUTA! You're going to need more than one or two cans! THREE MEALS A DAY!" Hizashi loudly objected.
"No. Just one." The Erasure hero argued. Nemuri cut in with a counter offer.
"Two meals, both light." She haggled. Hizashi looked back and forth, not wanting to miss even a second of the action.
"One and a snack." Shouta shot back, and they shook on it.
"You're lucky to have such nice friends."
Shouta fought off the small smile that threatened to appear on his face. He really was lucky, wasn't he?
--
Shouta showing up at Yagi's house shocked the blond and raven haired man alike. He'd held on to the umbrella, despite his embarrassment over the cheesy sunflower pattern, and had been on his way home from the school when his feet got other plans. Looked like he had no choice but to return the umbrella today after all.
He could see the house a lot more clearly in the evening sunlight; the outdoor panels were light blue, the shutters were white, and the clean white door had a cute little sign on it. Yagi's garden was flourishing with little flowers of all colors. His windows were covered with light yellow curtains and white blinds. It was in every way, a sweet little place, the kind of house most retirees would want to live and pass away in. Though irritatingly domestic and cheery, Shouta had to admit he liked his "wipe your paws" welcome mat with the paw prints. That was cute; it brought a certain fuzzy little guy to mind.
Heh, Nezu would probably hate this mat, huh?
He knocked while still staring down at it. The paw prints were mostly dog prints. How disappointing. The blond answered, his mouth covered by a white rag covered with dark stains.
He looked exhausted, even worse than Shouta sometimes did, and he couldn't hide his surprise when he saw the pro hero. Still, he tried to feign a smile, to hide the cloth in his pocket before he asked any questions. It wasn't as if he was going to, but he did raise an eyebrow at the blond's desperation to hide his secret.
"Here's your umbrella." Shouta thrust the folded vinyl umbrella into his hands, deciding not to make any comments about the blood stained handkerchief. He wasn't a fool; after so many years working as a hero, he knew what dried blood on white fabric looked like.
"You don't have to return it, but thank you." Yagi smiled, taking it from him with shaky hands. Shouta noticed his sudden weakness but didn't comment. It wasn't any of his business; they weren't friends, and Yagi played it off as if he did it all the time. It wasn't his place to comment on someone else's health issues.
"Your mat has mostly dog prints, by the way. It's a bit irritating." Honestly, Shouta couldn't say what possessed him to comment on that at that moment; it just slipped out before he could help himself. Somehow this guy always made his self control and instincts take a holiday.
Yagi stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment before laughing so hard that he started to cough, covering his mouth with that same white cloth. There was no malice or mockery in his laugh, it was just genuine surprise and amusement. Maybe that's why the sound had Shouta fighting back a smile. It was just...nice.
"I suppose you're right; a cat lover wouldn't be a fan of it, I'm sure." Yagi eventually replied with a smile. "It was a gift from a friend, so I never looked at it that hard! How could you tell?"
"I spend a lot of time looking at cat paws." Shouta shamelessly admitted. There was nothing embarrassing about admitting that he spent a lot of his time looking at pictures of cat paws online; it was a normal human past time as far as he was concerned.
"They are quite cute." Yagi nodded in understanding, that same smile still on his lips. "Would you like to come in? I made a fresh pot of coffee." Shouta only hesitated for a moment before accepting.
--
The fourth time they met, Yagi spotted him on the street. The blond had called out to him several times, but Shouta paid him no mind. After all, it wasn't like they were friends, or like Yagi was calling him by name. Who the heck was 'Mr. Black Cat?'
"What's with the nickname?" He asked, honestly not minding it as much as he should. Yagi's face flushed slightly.
"I never got your name." The blond sheepishly admitted. "But that seemed to fit. I apologize if you dislike being called that."
"It's fine, just weird." The teacher replied, tugging at his scarf as he talked. "Like if I called you Mr. Sunflower or something." He started to walk again, not bothering to ask Yagi where he was headed. He didn't care. If they were heading the same way, they'd walk together but if not, they wouldn't. There was no problem either way.
Yagi chuckled as he walked alongside him, keeping his steps small in order to keep up with the other man's leisurely pace. "Mr. Sunflower?" He inquired a bit teasingly.
"You remind me of one." Shouta explained without missing a beat. A comfortable silence fell on the pair as they walked, the skinny blond smiling softly, a hint of sadness in his blue eyes. Finally, Shouta spoke, eyes fixed on the ground and hands in his pockets. "Aizawa."
"Eh?"
"My name. It's Aizawa Shouta." Yagi grinned happily.
"What about your hero name?" The blond asked excitedly. "I saw you fight once, but nobody knew who you were even when I asked around."
"Eraserhead. I'm underground." Shouta replied. Even without looking at Yagi, he could guess what expression he had on his face. Those who had heard his name before knew his quirk...and in a world where people depend on their powers to define them, his wasn't exactly well received. He couldn't even count how many people suddenly gave him the cold shoulder after learning about his quirk; they didn't like the idea of someone who could take away that big a part of them, even if he never made any moves to do so.
"The erasure hero...I heard of you before." Yagi replied without the awkwardness or cold edge Shouta was somewhat accustomed to by now. "That's an amazing quirk; I imagine it's quite rare as well!" Once again, Yagi was nothing but genuine.
"I guess so." The black haired man replied, once again fighting a smile. It seemed to be a common occurrence when he talked to Yagi. "What about yours?" The other man fell silent for a moment, averting his eyes.
"I'm...I was born quirkless." Yagi replied a bit awkwardly. His voice sounded off; it was missing the sincerity it always had. It couldn't be any more obvious that he wasn't telling the full story. Still, it wasn't his place to pry, so Shouta just hummed in reply. "Ah, there's my stop up ahead. It was rather nice seeing you again, Aizawa-san!"
--
The fifth time had no pretence nor was it a coincidence. Shouta just showed up at his house. To be more precise, his feet took him there without clearing it with his brain first. Still, Yagi invited him in for coffee all the same.
"No, that ending was terrible." The teacher argued. It was somewhat nice to find out that Yagi was the type who liked to actually talk about and rate movies after watching them; Hizashi would just imitate his favorite scenes like a child.
"How so? I found it quite satisfying, though it is a bit odd for a girl to have a crush on a fake cat. Haru grew quite a bit by the end of the film's story, started expressing herself more openly and not only became more confident, but matured as a person. What did you find so dissatisfying about it, Aizawa?"
"Who gives up the chance to be a cat?" Shouta asked in all seriousness, watching Yagi smile and laugh. He really did like that laugh after all.
"You always seem to say the most unexpected things! Would you truly go through with a marriage to a cat in order to be a cat?" Yagi asked teasingly.
"I'd take over the kingdom without marrying the king and run it better than he could." Shouta nodded. "And sleep all I want."
Yagi's laugh was nice...and oddly familiar, like something he'd heard so many times and years before.
--
After that, it became a regular occurrence for them to spend time together, usually at Yagi's house. As odd as their first meeting was, they were now friends. It was nice and comfortable, having a friend of the same age who wasn't in the same business. As much as Shouta cared for his best friends, Hizashi and Nemuri, they were big figures in the public's eye, people who shone so bright that nobody could look away. It was tiring to even be seen in public with them sometimes. But Yagi? He might be too skinny, have a long neck, and wear baggy clothes, but he was just a normal man.
A normal and oddly attractive man, but that's a thought for another time.
"What do you do for work anyway?" He eventually asked the tall blond on one of his visits. "And what does all the All Might merchandise have to do with it?"
"I get it all for free...I'm considering rounding it all up and donating it, even if it gets me into trouble at work." Yagi replied, staring down a creepily painted figure. It looked too realistic…like it might come to life and start punching everyone in the room. Did kids actually like figures like this? "As for my profession, well…" There it was again, the voice that told Shouta there was a secret underneath it all. "I'm All Might's...All Might's secretary." There was an audible twinge of guilt in his voice.
Shouta didn't press him for answers, sipping his coffee. It was as good as always.
Another time, Yagi—no, he was Toshinori by then— showed him his collection of paintings. "I suppose you could say it was a therapy project." Toshi admitted sheepishly. "I had an, ah, accident of sorts a few years back. Taking up painting helped me keep my mind off the pain and stress."
They were good for someone who'd taken no classes and who only painted as a casual hobby; Shouta had no embarrassment in telling him such. It was worth it to see Toshi's face light up like that.
One painting in particular caught his eye, the work stashed in the corner. Toshi had hid it? Why? Oh well. If the secretary wanted to keep it a secret, Shouta would just have to respect that.
Yet another time, they were watching a movie together when Toshi's phone began to ring. Shouta quietly paused as the blond answered the call with an apologetic grin. "Ah, Tsukauchi! What is it, my friend? Today…? I'm afraid I can't today, but perhaps we can get lunch tomorrow?" Shouta sat awkwardly on the other side of the couch.
He'd never told his own friends about Toshi but could the same be said for the other man? Could he have told his friends about the strange underground hero who got attached to him like a stray cat? He didn't mind the idea of people knowing that they were friends or anything but... somehow, he liked it as their little secret.
"A guest?" Toshi hesitated. "No, I just...I wanted to fix up my house today, that's all. I haven't had many days off lately,and cleaning's quite therapeutic." He awkwardly lied, glancing over at Shouta who did his best to pretend he wasn't interested or listening. "I'm truly sorry. Tomorrow then! I'll see you then, my friend!"
The blond man hung up. After a short, silent pause, the erasure hero reached for the remote to play the movie but before he could press the button, Toshi apologized.
"I haven't told even my closest friend about you; I'm sorry." That stung more than he expected it to which was pretty ridiculous. Did he really expect Toshi to tell everyone he knew about him? Expect everyone to give their blessings or some stupid crap like that so they could continue to be close friends? Was he really that far gone already?
He'd only known the man for a bit over half a year; that was the the fastest he'd ever formed a close bond before. He didn't even consider Hizashi a close friend until they were almost done with their first year of high school. They were friends before then, yeah, but not close by his insurmountably high standards. (It was hard for him to face that the loud wannabe bird was going to be a big part of his life.) But with Toshi, the connection felt right. Their friendship was an easy one. So maybe he was a bit bothered by the fact that Toshi might not feel the same.
"It sounds childish, but I wanted to keep our meetings a secret. It made them feel more special." Toshi bashfully admitted. Shouta pressed the play button in reply, raking a hand through his hair to ease his flustered and shocked heart. There was a big possibility it didn't mean what he hoped it did. He had to be prepared for that.
But maybe, just maybe, there was a chance it did. "Me too." He quietly agreed, his voice drowned out by Chihiro's crying. Toshi didn't hear him, he was sure. But when he looked over, the skeletally thin man was smiling so wide that it made Shouta smile as well, hiding it behind his black, paw print patterned coffee mug, a gift from the blond to the caffeine addict. He wasn't embarrassed to say that he adored it.
Nor did he have any embarrassment in admitting to himself that he loved Toshinori. He loved how he laughed and smiled, so genuine and kind. He loved that he was cheerful despite his bad lot in life. He loved that he always had a cup of coffee ready for him when Shouta came by on Wednesdays and Sundays. He loved that Yagi played off his impressive job and connections as being no big deal, because he truly believed it wasn't. He loved that Toshi was bright, kind, and determined. They were far from similar, but he loved him.
Shouta was relatively sure it wasn't an unrequited love. There were many signs but most obvious of all were the little moments. Toshi didn't pull away from little touches, even if they were accidental. He always put a blanket over Shouta if he fell asleep. There were even moments where Toshi tried to tell him something; from the troubled look on his face, Shouta could guess it had something to do with his big secret.
The biggest sign of them all came on an otherwise normal day. School had ended and, exhausted and craving a good cup of unburnt coffee, Shouta dragged his feet over to Yagi's where a warm mug with half a spoon of sugar was waiting for him. They settled onto the couch as they always did and somehow ended up sitting closer together than they usually did. After that...he wasn't sure what else prompted it, but he did know that it was nice.
It was a soft kiss, longer than a simple brush of lips and more innocent than even a peck on the lips. It was just a sweet and rather nice moment. Yagi, though he was the one who initiated it, softly apologized afterwards. As much as Shouta wanted to brush it off, say it was nothing and all that BS, there was something about the hurt in Toshi's voice that convinced him the best thing to do was to not mention it at all. It was nothing, it never happened. They'd never talk about it.
It was obvious there was something there, something heavy, but they tried their best to ignore it. Toshi grew a bit more distant, hesitant, and somewhat sad. Shouta tried to act indifferent, but the feeling that he was just causing the other man problems just wouldn't stop eating away at him. He visited less, keeping his distance and even ignoring some of Toshi's texts.
He hadn't intended to become that man's friend; he sure wasn't going to be a nuisance. It sucked and it hurt a bit, but their relationship wasn't one that made much sense anyway. Yagi was bright, always facing the sun, seeing the positive possibilities of tomorrow while Shouta found comfort in darkness and steeled himself for only the worst of what tomorrow could bring. Black cats and sunflowers had nothing in common; why should they be any different? No matter how much Shouta had treasured that relationship or if he'd made the first move...it wasn't like it would work anyway.
It was time to stop dreaming already and just sever their connection now, before it got too hard. Or that's what he thought anyway. Fate had other plans.
All Might as a teacher...Though he somewhat respected the hero for his service, the thought of the man trying to take up a teaching position worried him.
They were teaching the heroes of tomorrow, teaching them how to be smart in a fight, how to do whatever you can to survive while saving as many people as possible, and how to react in a crisis. The older hero certainly knew how to save and protect people, certainly had a strong sense of justice, but he gave everyone the idea that strength was all you needed, that blazing through a problem and making a big bang of it was the best solution rather than using your wits and making the best of what you have.
"What you're about to see must absolutely not leave this room." Nezu gravely announced, the buff man beside him looking anywhere but at Shouta. What was his problem? They'd only met once before, and the erasure hero completely ignored him. Was that it? Or was there something el—
Oh.
"What you're seeing now is the hero All Might's true form; due to a severe injury he can now only use his quirk three hours a day."
It all almost made sense now.
"I know this is a lot to take in but he and I both will be depending on your support, everyone!"
Even as his fellow teachers and heros surrounded him, excited and curious, Toshi, no, All Might remained soft spoken, and his eyes constantly flickered over to where Shouta stood, processing everything. The guilt in his eyes was clear as was his silent plea:
"Please forgive me for this."
Wordlessly, the underground hero shook his head and walked right out of the room, too exhausted to even fake excitement or interest. Who said a secret or two never hurt anyone? They're an idiot.
Shouta decided that he needed a cup of something strong to help him process this twist.
Or maybe the whole bottle.