The rest of the day at UA went about as Shouta expected. The students were rowdy, traumatized, and distracted.
No other students, or teachers for that matter, interacted with Shouta or Oboro after lunch. That was probably a good thing, since Shouta was still trying to contain himself and not look like an idiot. Oboro, the ass, was making things more difficult by whispering random thoughts about everyone they saw.
Things like, 'are you sure that Shinsho kid isn't your long lost twin?' and 'ooh look at me, I'm FRENCH OHOHO~'
Even worse, he kept repeating everything certain students said word for word, with The silliest voice imaginable. He was mostly just mimicking Bakugou, though.
It was absolutely hilarious, Shouta was finding it quite difficult to keep his composure. Thank Kami barely anyone could see or hear them.
Shouta lets his mind wander, curled up on the cloud as Oboro had them float near Hizashi. The frazzled man was currently grading schoolwork in the staff room, mumbling nonsense under his breath. Shouta's known his husband long enough to be able to tell when he's feeling impatient.
He was rushing through the papers, normally neat penmanship a messy scrawl. Hizashi kept glancing towards the clock on the wall, tapping his foot a little faster with every look.
The staffroom door slides open, revealing none other than Nedzu.
"Hmm, you haven't left yet, Yamada-kun?" Nedzu asks, held tilting to the side with a light flick of his ear.
Hizashi frowns, looking once more at the time, "my shift hasn't ended yet, and I've still got papers to grade." His voice was quiet, hesitant.
With a chuckle, Nedzu simply walks forward and gently pats Hizashi's knee. "Do not worry about the details," Nedzu's smile turns sad. "I know you're worried about him, you may go."
Shouta watches Hizashi blink, absorbing the words. Tears are just barely visible from their vantage point, which would have otherwise been obscured by those ridiculous shades. Hizashi nods rapidly, muttering a litany of 'thank you's at Nedzu as he rushes to leave.
The three watch in silence as Hizashi bolts out the door.
Before Oboro can float them out of the room, Nedzu's voice cuts in once more.
"...You'd best not keep him waiting, Aizawa-kun."
Not waiting for a response, Nedzu also leaves the room, sparing once last glance towards where Shouta was sitting. He leaves the staffroom door open behind him.
"Holy shit," Oboro whispers. Then, he turns towards Shouta, "dude, he's so onto you, fuck. What do we do?"
Voice stuck in his throat, Shouta punches Oboro in the arm and gestures wildly towards the door where Hizashi had disappeared through. Shirakumo curses again, and races after their friend.
Luckily he hadn't gotten too far away yet, despite his long legs. Though it didn't really matter, they both knew where the Voice Hero was headed.
The hospital.
He hates it just as much as he did yesterday. The halls were a little busier today though, so Shouta stays sitting on the cloud for now. He leans against Oboro's shoulder with a huff, eyeing the flickering overhead lights. The damn things were giving off a high pitched buzz that Shouta could feel in his teeth.
That sharp, sterile smell that couldn't be escaped hung heavy in the air like death.
If Shouta was being honest with himself, the thing he hated the most was how the hospital always meant bad news. Either for him, or someone else.
He hated how vulnerable he felt, forced bed rest making him an easy target. Hated seeing his students in the same position, all because of his own failure to protect them.
The hospital meant long sleepless nights sitting at a quiet bedside, with nothing but an uncomfortable chair and tasteless black coffee. A television sitting in the corner, most channels showing either static or a re-run of some show he didn't care about.
It meant injuries, and the pain that came with them.
This situation, while different in some ways, was still the same in those regards. Normally when he was this badly injured he wasn't afforded the awareness to worry about it.
Shouta didn't really appreciate the whole out of body thing.
His hospital room looked the same as it did before, though there was now a small bundle of pink and blue hydrangeas sitting innocently on the bedside table.
Just like yesterday, Hizashi plopped himself down next to the lonely bed. He started talking about his day in a soft tone, gently carding through Aizawa's unruly hair.
Shouta absentmindedly brought a hand up, fingers tangling in his own black hair.
It was odd. His hair hadn't been this short in so long, he sort of missed the weight it usually held. Even though long hair was difficult to maintain, he liked having it.
Hizashi was always pulling random bits of stuff from it throughout the day. Normally small things like leaves or rubble after patrol. The most memorable occasion being the time the poor blonde had found a live fly stuck in a knot, and screamed so loud he'd managed to dislodge the insect. This in turn led to more screaming as the fly did what it was known for, and started buzzing around, unfortunately closer to the panicking hero.
Shouta's ears had rung for hours after that unfortunate event, and he'd been forced to take a shower just in case there were any more hidden passengers in his hair, not allowed back in bed until he'd double and triple checked.
It was utterly mortifying at the time, but now he remembers it with fond exasperation.
Carefully hopping off the still present cloud, Shouta moves to stand right behind Hizashi. He was so close, if only he could just reach out and-
"He really loves you, huh?" Oboro's voice floats by, oddly quiet. Shouta turns, staring towards the wispy haired boy whose own gaze was fixed firmly at the window. "I think... 'Zashi has always been the strongest of the three of us."
Shouta frowns in confusion, not fully understanding what Shirakumo was getting at. "Of course Hizashi's strong, he's a pro hero," he can't help but respond.
Oboro huffs, running a hand through his hair. He still wasn't looking at Shouta.
"...'Boro?"
Shirakumo shakes his head, shoulders moving in a mockery of a shrug. "Nah, don't worry about it," he finally says, glancing towards Shouta. He has the strangest feeling that his friend wasn't really seeing him, though. Familiar blue eyes foggy and distant. "Forget I said anything."
Slowly clenching and unclenching his hands, Shouta decides to let the matter drop. If Oboro didn't want to talk about it, that was his choice.
In this new silence, Shouta felt a wave of self consciousness wash over him.
He does his best to ignore it, chin tucked to his collarbone and both arms coming up to hug himself. If he had to look like a teenager couldn't he at least be spared the awkward silences?
Before he can think of some way to break the tortuous silence however, the sound of a stomach growling does it for him.
"Ugh, sorry Sho, I'll be right back," Hizashi stands up with a groan, stretching out his back from sitting too long in the tiny chair. He places a chaste kiss on Aizawa's forehead, before turning and stumbling out of the room.
Neither Shouta or Oboro say anything, staring around the empty room in silence. "...To be honest, I kind of forgot people need to eat," Shirakumo says out of the blue, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
Shouta doesn't know how to respond to that.
The door slides open, too soon to be Hizashi returning. Shouta and Oboro turn towards it, only to see- "I AM HE-"
A hand shoots though the door, slapping over All Might's mouth with an audible. "Toshinori, please keep your voice down," surprisingly, Detective Tsukauchi mutters, and retracts his hand. "We're not even supposed to be here, you're lucky no one else was in the room."
Yagi nods along, seemingly chastised. The two step further into the room, door sliding shut behind them. Shouta feels his eyes narrow.
There, on Yagi's back, were the outlines of several people. They weren't as prominent as Midoriya's had been, but there's no doubt about it. Somehow, both the number one hero and one of his new students had the same ghosts clinging to them.
What the fuck.
While Yagi moves to Aizawa's bedside, Tsukauchi lags behind. Shouta can see the grimace on the detective's face as soon as he catches sight of Aizawa's body.
Yagi doesn't sit in the chair that Hizashi had been in before, instead choosing to stand next to it and hover carefully near the bed.
"I... am sorry, Aizawa-kun," Yagi finally says, in a tone that Shouta would never have expected to hear from the number one hero. It was low, somber. "This is my fault, if I had been more responsible..."
The man huffs, gazing turning towards the vase on the bedside table. "You are... an incredible hero," he says, reaching out to place a single sunflower. "The students are lucky to have you as their teacher."
"Thank you for protecting them where I could not," Yagi murmurs, turning back towards Aizawa with a deep bow.
Tsukauchi moves forward to place a hand on Yagi's shoulder, placing a small branch of cherry blossoms next to the sunflower. The detective wasn't looking at Aizawa anymore. "...Get well soon, Eraserhead, the world needs more good heroes like you."
Though they had only been there around five minutes, both men turn to leave. Before they can, the door slides open once more to reveal a slightly ruffled Hizashi. "Huh-" he blinks, frowning in confusion. "Yagi-san, Tsukauchi-san, what're you guys doing here?"
Tsukauchi steps forward before Yagi can, offering a tip of his hat. "Apologies, we were just dropping by to pay our respects."
"Oh," Hizashi says, a genuine smile gracing his face after a moment. "well, I'm sure Sho' appreciated that... so, thank you."
Yagi and Tsukauchi both bow, and quickly abscond from the room.
Hizashi sits back down with a sigh, "looks like you're pretty popular today, huh?"
"Oh! I almost forgot-" Hizashi suddenly perks up, reaching into his jacket pocket to reveal the card from earlier. "Your students made this, you must've really made an impression on them, Sho."
Scooting closer to the bed, Hizashi opens the card and faces it partially towards Aizawa, as if letting him see it. "Aw, they all wrote little notes too~" Hizashi practically coos, "see, look at this one-"
Shouta watches as his husband starts reading out each note, letting him know which student wrote what. It was oddly adorable. And no, those were not tears in Shouta's eyes, the hospital air was just very, very dry.
When he's done, Hizashi leans back and holds the card close to his chest with a sad smile.
"I... you've got a whole lot of people worried about you, y'know," Hizashi whispers, gently placing the card on the bedside table, right next to the flowers. "I know you don't think so, but... Shouta, you're a good person."
Shouta swears his heart skips a beat at those words.
"You just, fuck, you fight so hard to keep everyone safe, and I-" Hizashi's voice hitches painfully. "I just can't understand why you won't do the same for yourself. I mean, you just-" he cuts himself off with a frustrated noise, one hand coming up to tug harshly at golden hair.
"I just want you to be okay."
Shouta feels his husband's frustration as clearly as though it were his own. Bubbling up into his throat like boiling water in a kettle, Kami he just wants to scream.
His body was right fucking there.
All he had to do was wake up. Feeling a sense of Déjà Vu, he places a hand on his bodies chest and pushes. And just like last time, something prevents him from getting any closer.
"Shouta, maybe you shouldn't-" Shirakumo's voice was right behind him, but Shouta was too angry to listen.
With a snarl, Shouta mentally shoves against the brick wall and hears something give way with a crack.
White hot pain strikes through him in an instant, immediately rendering Shouta immobile and breathless.
It was indescribable.
This pain...
Every nerve in his arms was on fire, a deep ache that permeated down to his very bones. Pins and needles lanced their way up from the tips of his fingers in a never ending wave.
He couldn't move his hand away.
Oxygen was being pumped mechanically in and out of his lungs, burning its path down his raw throat and into his lungs.
It felt like the weight of the world was resting on his chest instead of his shoulders, ribs creaking and groaning in tune with the machine keeping him alive.
Can't breath...!
The worst migraine he'd ever experienced in his life centered itself behind his eyes, a terrible pressure, as if his eyes had been replaced with molten lava that was slowly eating it's way into his skull.
It was hard enough to think through the pain by itself, cotton-stuffed brain barely keeping up with the overstimulation.
Dying, he was dying-
He couldn't handle so much at once, mind going blank against the mental onslaught.
H͡ȩ̶l̸͘p̛ ͡m̷e̴͘-̛
Without warning, two solid hands grab Shouta by the shoulders, yanking him backwards away from the body.
Shouta felt himself slump bonelessly against the person holding him, dragging them both down to the floor.
The second his hand had retreated from (me, that's me) the body, the pain faded away once more. Only a dull ache in his chest left behind as a reminder. A warning.
Taking in deep, gulping breaths, Shouta lets himself shakily relax against (flickering blue hair, worried eyes-) the warm chest behind him.
Oboro's arms wrap hesitantly around Shouta, cradling him as he reoriented himself.
Right... hospital room, Shirakumo Oboro, Shouta's broken body laying in the bed.
The tile was achingly cold beneath them, making Shouta shiver. He hated hospitals.
"Kami... are you alright, Shouta?"
Shouta grunts in response, turning to press himself more against Oboro, chasing the warmth the other boy was giving off. He couldn't seem to stop his hands from shaking, no matter how tightly he clung to Shirakumo's shirt, knuckles a pale white.
He could make out Hizashi talking with someone, but not the words. "Shit, we're getting kicked out again- c'mon," Oboro mutters, scooping Shouta up in his arms when it becomes obvious he won't be able to move much himself. Shouta doesn't complain, even though in normal circumstances he would feel embarrassed by being carried bridal-style. He buries his face in his friend's shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Shouta rasps, words muffled by Shirakumo's jacket. The other boy didn't respond at first, simply keeping pace with Hizashi and avoiding being run into.
"...I know, Sho... I know."