It took a few moments for Hizashi to register the screaming. His hearing aids were ringing in his ears after being so close to the explosion, staticky and screeching at him. Quickly, he turned them off even as he moved to crane his neck down at Izuku. Izuku, who- even though Hizashi could no longer hear him- was screaming his little head off. Tears were running down the child's splotchy cheeks like waterfalls, his mouth open and throat tensing as he wailed. It struck something deep in Hizashi's chest, seeing Izuku screaming like that.
Hizashi tried to shush the child, trying to comfort him, but Izuku kept screaming. And then, Hizashi could see the child's lips moving as he sobbed out, "Daddy!"
"Fuck," Hizashi cursed, pressing Izuku's face to his shoulder. Because what the fuck was he supposed to do in this situation? He couldn't call the police at present, and Izuku was in no condition to do so, either, even with an adult's instructions. And yet, he couldn't go charging into the half-standing bank when he was currently in charge of Izuku.
Why had Shouta put him in charge of Izuku? Why him? Sure, he'd been the only adult around at the moment, but Shouta could have just run Izuku back into the bakery. It was hardly a block behind them. But then again, he'd needed all the time he could have in order to get those hostages out.
But... Hizashi? Really? Sure, he was good with kids- he had a plethora of nieces and nephews, not to forget Tensei's little brother- but...
Hizashi wasn't even Shouta's friend. Not yet.
And somehow, Shouta still found it in him to trust Hizashi.
But now...
A hand suddenly grabbed Hizashi's shoulder, and he swung around with a fist raised, Izuku pressed into his side as he got ready to swing.
There stood Tanaka, hands up in a surrendering pose. He said something, but Hizashi's brain was spinning too badly to be able to read his lips. Tanaka frowned, and Hizashi vaguely gestured to his hearing aids. Eyes lighting up in recognition, Tanaka signed: Do you sign?
Yeah, Hizashi replied with a short nod and brusque motion. Give Izuku to me, Tanaka responded. Aizawa needs you.
In a normal situation, where his brain was functioning, Hizashi may have questioned how Tanaka knew he was a Pro Hero. After all, Hizashi knew he was nearly unrecognizable out of uniform (Izuku was special to have recognized him like that). But this wasn't a normal situation, and Hizashi's brain was spinning like a broken record, so he handed Izuku over, wincing when the child's foot kicked out and hit his kidney.
"I'll be back," Hizashi promised aloud and in sign.
Bring Aizawa with you, Tanaka signed back, holding Izuku tightly to his chest. Please.
And Hizashi's brain may have been spinning, but his heroic muscle memory knew exactly what to do. Without a second glance at the child in Tanaka's arms- he was safe with the baker, he was safe- Hizashi sprinted across the street towards the bank. He briefly noted seeing the flashing red and blue lights of a cop car nearby, but ignored them in favor of approaching the standing part of the bank.
The front door had been rendered useless, and only the front left corner of the building remained standing. The blast had been large enough to take chunks out of the building on the right of it, but not strong enough to do much other damage to the surrounding streets. Hizashi ducked under a hanging support beam, pulling himself into the wreckage of the bank.
He looked around, noting all of the debris that covered the floor. While the right wall of the bank was still half-standing, the entirety of the roof had fallen inwards, leaving drywall and bricks and skeleton-work of the building on the ground. Hizashi sidestepped the worst of it, keeping his eyes open for the villains who had attacked the bank in the first place. It wouldn't help Shouta if he got himself in a bad spot, now would it?
And Hizashi found them. Two of them, both armed to the teeth. But having guns and knives hadn't helped them when their own damn bomb went off. It had likely been a last-ditch attempt to either get away or die and stay out of prison. If it had been an attempt to get away, though, it had backfired horribly. Because both villains were absolutely blown to smithereens, blood and viscera coating the bricks around them. Hizashi gagged at the scent of iron, looking away from the chopped-up bodies and back out to the rest of the wreckage.
If they looked like that, then... Shouta...
No. He couldn't think like that. Because Shouta was too important. He had friends- Emi- and he had a son- Izuku, little Izuku who was likely outside still screaming his tiny head off- and Shouta was too damn important to die.
Hizashi was so distressed with his inner thoughts that he almost missed it. Really, it was a miracle he noticed it without his hearing aids on. But his eye caught sight of a flash of black amongst the pale gray smoke and dust. A black shoe, followed by a black sock and a black pants leg-
"SHOUTA!" Hizashi shouted, rushing towards the fallen hero.
He couldn't hear a response, but that didn't mean anything. Shouta could have been screaming
right back, although somehow Hizashi doubted the man was much of a screamer.
There was a large chunk of ceiling covering up Shouta's top half, and Hizashi- mustering up all of his strength, heaving with every muscle in his body- shoved it out of the way.
Lying there, beneath the rubble, was a deathly still Shouta. "Fuck," Hizashi hissed, "Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck-"
He scrambled for a pulse, collapsing to his knees beside the other man as he reached for Shouta's neck. For a few moments, Hizashi felt nothing. A sob built up in his chest, and then-
Bump. Bump. Bump. Bump. "Oh, thank fuck."
Shouta's eyes were closed, his head lilted to the side as his chest rose and fell to the pulse of his heartbeat. For a moment, Hizashi allowed himself to close his eyes and sigh in relief.
And then, his eyes snapped back open with force.
Because Hizashi Yamada was a hero.
And he had a job to do.
Leading the paramedics over to Shouta was easy enough, and sitting back to let them work was even easier.
The hardest part was going back to Izuku and Tanaka.
Hizashi left a quick statement with one of the officers there- a new guy named Sansa with the coolest mutant quirk, who also happened to know JSL rather well, to Hizashi's utter relief- and rushed back over to Izuku and Tanaka.
Izuku had finally worn himself out with screaming, but was still sobbing into Tanaka's shirt. Watery eyes and snot bubbles greeted Hizashi when he went to rub Izuku's back, and the child jumped from Tanaka's arms to his with absolutely no prompting. Hizashi wasn't upset about it, though. Far from it. He could use a good Izuku-hug right about now.
Hugging Izuku tightly to his chest, feeling the child's warmth and shuddering sobs and heartbeat, Hizashi fished his cellphone out of his pocket and handed it to Tanaka.
Call Emi for me, please? Tell her what happened.
Emi, Tanaka confirmed, earning a nod, before he dialed. Hizashi could see the man mouth "Hello,
Miss Emi," before he turned his attention back down to Izuku.
The child's eyes were lulling, and Hizashi was reminded that the boy was nearing naptime right before everything went south. What with the emotional rollercoaster and the trauma he'd experienced that day, Izuku must have been exhausted. So, murmuring softly and rocking back and forth, Hizashi crooned to the little boy. Soft lullabies and nothings fell from his lips, his hand stroking through Izuku's sweat-dampened curls. Slowly but surely, Izuku's heaving sobs turned to hiccups, and then quickly to snores.
Tanaka had wandered off a few feet to speak on the phone, but wandered back quickly and signed to Hizashi, She said she's on her way. She'll be here in a few minutes. Looking over Hizashi's shoulder, Tanaka's eyes went wide. Is he okay? They've got him on a stretcher, but-
I don't know, Hizashi interrupted. All I know is that he's alive.
A sad smile filtered onto Tanaka's face, and he replied, That's all that matters right now. Somehow, Hizashi wasn't so sure about that.
...
It hardly took Emi ten minutes to get to their location. Hizashi didn't know how she did it, especially since she was at her agency nearly twenty minutes away, but he didn't question it. Let Emi keep her secrets. It gave him a bit of time to mess with his hearing aids while Izuku slept in his arms, though, and he got them barely working enough to hear the woman's approach.
"Zuzu!" the woman chirped when she saw the little boy bundled up in Hizashi's arms. Tanaka had retreated to his upstairs apartment at the bakery and had come back down with a ratty tan blanket, offering it up to Hizashi to wrap Izuku in. Then, with a wise smile, Tanaka had bid them adieu to deal with his panicking customers.
"Zuzu," Emi repeated, her voice still happy and upbeat even as Hizashi noticed the worry lines around her eyes. She was grinning, keeping up the façade for Izuku, but Hizashi could see it.
She was worried.
He was, too, of course, but Emi was close with Shouta. Possibly the closest he had. This had to have been taking a toll on her. Even so, she smiled at her little nephew and tickled his tummy, drawing a wet and tired giggle out of the sleepy boy.
"Hey, sweetie pie," Emi greeted for a third time. "Why don't we get you upstairs and into a bath, yeah? And then we can get you a change of clothes and a nap."
"B-But-" Izuku started, tears welling in his eyes. "But D-D-Daddy-"
"Your Daddy is in good hands, Zuzu," Emi crooned to the boy, brushing his bangs back and out of his face. "The doctors and nurses know what they're doing, okay, buddy? They'll take care of him."
Sniffling, Izuku conceded to his aunt's point and relinquished his hold on Hizashi to be transferred over to her arms. Emi crooned a bit more to Izuku, gently holding onto the back of his head as he
burrowed his face into her neck. Turning to Hizashi, Emi grinned- softer, weaker than before- and said, "You probably want a bath and a nap, too. Still got my number, Yamada?"
Mutely, Hizashi nodded.
"Good. I'll keep you updated on Shouta, okay? For now, though... I think Izuku needs some family-time."
Family-time. Oh. Of course. Hizashi had almost forgotten throughout the course of the day. He wasn't family. Of course he wasn't. Having a single night of fun with Shouta didn't entitle him to shit, and just because Shouta had been inclusive and kind for (most of) the day didn't mean shit, either.
Hizashi was just a stranger to them. Just a colleague to Emi.
Nothing to Shouta.
Nothing to Izuku.
Numbly, Hizashi nodded again. "Be good, Izuku," he croaked, turning on his heel and walking down the street, away from Shouta's apartment.
Sometime later, he hailed a cab. It was an astronomical fee to get him back to Musutafu, but he paid it without blinking. Hands shoved into his pockets, eyes downcast towards the ground, Hizashi made his way to his apartment, going up the elevator and unlocking the door.
His apartment was quiet. Silent. Deathly silent. Not even Noodles was meowing, fast asleep perched atop his scratching post.
He was alone.
Hands and knees shaking, stomach churning, brain throbbing against his skull, Hizashi pulled out his cellphone and hit speed dial.
"H-Hey," he stuttered once they picked up. "I- I don't... I can't be alone right n-now."
"I'm on my way."
...
Nemuri got to his apartment in mere minutes, letting herself in with her key. Which was good, because Hizashi was currently wrapped up under no less than three blankets and a weighted comforter, snuggled into the fetal position upwards on his couch. There was a tv show playing in the background, some pre-Quirk cartoon, and both the ceiling fan and humidifier were on the highest settings. There was enough background noise that Hizashi, with or without his hearing aids in, would be successfully distracted.
"So..." Nemuri drawled, slightly teasing and slightly worried, "you wanna tell me what happened with Adonis, or-"
A sob ripped its way out of Hizashi's chest, startling his friend. Immediately, Nemuri was crouched next to the man, asking what he needed. "Water? Something stronger? A hug-"
"A h-h-hug would be n-nice..." Hizashi murmured, blinking back the tears that were swallowing up his vision. It wasn't even fair of him to be so upset. After all, he wasn't familiar with the Aizawas, so why was he so...
Nemuri obliged him, of course, hugging the living daylights out of the blanket-clad man before turning to his kitchen. Nemuri made a wonderful cup of tea with her loose-leaf concoctions at her own apartment, but all Hizashi had at his place was bagged tea. Still, somehow, Nemuri managed to whip together a honey-soaked cup of bliss for Hizashi to consume.
"You've probably got a headache," Nemuri crooned to him, gesturing to his hearing aids. "Take those off, if you want. I'm getting rusty on my JSL anyways." Which was a total lie. If anyone was rusty on their JSL, it was Tensei, but Nemuri was absolutely fluent and had been that way for years.
'So,' Nemuri signed to him after setting their mugs of tea on the coffee table. She sprawled out on the couch next to Hizashi, forcing him to uncurl with her feet so that she could rest them on his lap. It was a simple touch, one that shouldn't have been as comforting as Hizashi found it. But he had always been a tactile person- being touch-starved as a child really morphed him into a touchy-feely adult- and just feeling the warmth of his friend next to him had the knot in his chest loosening slightly. 'Something happened with Adonis?' the woman continued.
'Yeah,' Hizashi replied. His throat grew tight, and his shaking hands struggle to sign out, 'There was a villain attack.'
Nemuri's eyes widened, and she leaned forward to emphatically sign, 'Are you okay?!' 'I'm fine. Shouta... His name is Shouta... he got hurt.'
'Start from the beginning, Zashi,' Nemuri signed to him firmly.
And so, he did.
Hizashi told his friend everything. From the taxi ride to the park, to the dandelions, to playing heroes and villains with Izuku, to finding out Izuku was Quirkless. He told her about Shouta's small smiles and the affection he held for his son. He told her about ice cream and chocolate croissants and small, teasing smiles. He told her about a bank, an explosion, finding Shouta, and Izuku's tears...
When Hizashi was done, he was struggling to breathe, feeling like he'd sprinted five miles. Sometime during his tirade, Nemuri had started running her hands through his long hair, trying to get some of the small knots out.
'You got attached,' she told him. When Hizashi went to protest, Nemuri continued on, 'There's nothing wrong with that. Not always. Sometimes, getting attached can be a good thing. Sometimes, the universe is on our side, and attachments can mean future blessings.'
'I don't think the universe is on my side here, Nem,' Hizashi retorted, feeling a little jaded. 'He's in the fucking hospital, Nem. And I didn't do a single fucking thing to help him.'
'But you did help him, Zashi.' 'I could've done more.'
'Could've, would've, should've,' Nemuri flicked her hand in the air haphazardly. 'We all have regrets, Zashi. But don't let allowing Shouta and Izuku to slip through your fingers by some
misplaced sense of guilt become a regret. Because you've gotten attached, and you will regret letting them go.'
Hizashi inhaled, and the spinning of his head steadied itself some with the deep breath he let out.
'Nem. How do you know me so well?'
'Because I'm the best. Make sure you tell Tensei.'
Snorting out a laugh, Hizashi shook his head. 'Sorry, but I don't have favorite friends.'
'Yes you do, you liar.'
'Don't have favorite students, don't have favorite friends. Nope, nope, nope!'
'I'm revoking your kitten privileges.'
Hizashi gasped, hand flying to his chest as he leveled a shocked expression at the woman. 'You wouldn't.'
Smirking, sitting up straighter, Nemuri taunted, 'Oh, yeah. You're no longer allowed to cat-sit Lady. Only Tensei now.'
'Tensei's allergic to her.'
'He can learn to deal.'
'He thinks cats are all demons.'
'They are. Cute, fluffy little demons.'
After a beat of silence, the two friends burst into laughter, leaning against one another as they cried happy tears.
A few minutes later, once Hizashi had calmed down and caught his breath, he turned back to Nemuri. 'What would I do without you?'
'Crash and burn a fiery death,' the woman replied shortly with no remorse. 'Harsh, but true.'
'So did you get his phone number?'
Hizashi deadpanned. 'Nem, I doubt he'll be texting from the hospital.' 'Damn... You're right...'
And then, it hit Hizashi. He may not be able to contact Shouta, but... He did have a certain jokester's phone number...
'But I think I know a way to fix that.'
...
His Daddy was sleeping. Auntie Joke had said his Daddy was hurt really, really badly, and that he needed a lot of sleep to get better.
But Izuku didn't want his Daddy to sleep. He looked so uncomfortable on the little bed that the nurses and doctors had put him on. He was covered in bandages and he had a thick cast on his leg. When Izuku had reached for the blankets to pull himself up onto the bed- right before his Auntie Joke pulled him into her lap and cooed for him to sit with her- he'd felt how scratchy the blankets were. His Daddy couldn't be comfortable laying on them. His Daddy had really, really, really soft blankets at home, and he had a blanket that was really heavy! Izuku liked to crawl under it to scare his Daddy when he came out of the bathroom. (He doesn't think his Daddy was ever really scared, but he always got a little smile on his face and ruffled Izuku's hair.)
"Why won't Daddy wake up?" Izuku sniffled, feeling overwhelmed. So much had happened that day already, and it was only nap time. He'd met Present Mic- Present Mic!! From Put Your Hands Up! Radio that he and his Daddy listened to all the time!!- and they'd gone to the park. They went and saw Mr. Tanaka-san and they'd just been heading home to nap when... when...
"It's nap-time, Zuzu," Auntie Joke told him, rocking him back and forth and running her fingers through his hair. "Take a nap, baby. Maybe your Daddy will be awake when you wake up. It'll be like a little present, getting to talk to him, yeah?"
"Daddy's not comfy," Izuku protested. "And Spork isn't here. Daddy cuddles with Spork when he naps. And Daddy doesn't have his sleeping bag! Or- Or his b-blankets! O-Or- O-Or..." Izuku began to stutter, breath hitching and tears welling in his eyes. "A-Auntie J-J-Joke, he n-needs- he n- needs-"
"Zuzu, baby, you need to breathe, okay? Take a deep breath, kiddo. Your Daddy's gonna be fine, okay?"
But it was too much. Everything was too much. The lights in the hospital were bright, and the explosion and the sirens had been loud, and Present Mic had saved his Daddy, but now Present Mic wasn't here, so his Daddy wasn't safe because Present Mic wasn't there to save him if something else happened-
"Zuzu- Izuku. Izuku! Breathe, kiddo, breathe- Nurse! Nurse! I need a nurse!"
Auntie Joke had set him down on the bed next to his Daddy, and she had stuck her head into the hallway to scream. Izuku, his chest still hitching painfully, black spots appearing in his eyes, turned sideways to curl into his Daddy's hand. He grabbed his hand with both of Izuku's own, hugging it to his chest tightly.
The spots in his eyes got bigger and bigger, and then there were hands on his shoulders, tugging him away from his Daddy.
And then Izuku fell asleep.