The quiet gurgling hiss of his coffee pot.
A light, quiet birdsong outside his window.
The quiet drum of his fingers on the edge of the counter.
Hizashi was tired. Frazzled. He hadn't slept very well last night due to not one but both children climbing into his bed on and off throughout the night with the whining insistence they didn't feel good. That they wanted to cuddle with him but he'd been firm with them when he'd carry them back to bed. Standing in his kitchen as the sun slowly rose bringing with it the pale lighting, he couldn't help sighing out. Letting his head hang forward with his hands braced on the counter before him with his gaze focusing on his slippered feet.
Could he order out for breakfast? Put in a Door-Dash order for Nemuri and Oboro's place? Or would that be considered lazy parenting? He didn't want to raise his kids on a takeout life style but he just didn't have it in him today to run about the kitchen. To bustle, cook, and flip food until he was exhausted again. He couldn't do that today. Couldn't. He lifted his head up as he pushed off the counters to tuck his hair behind his ears where he pushed lightly at his hearing aids. Making sure they were snugly in place.
He then dropped his hands down to tug the sides of his robe closer together with a quiet sigh to himself. All night, up and down, up and down, his boys had been inconsolable half the night with Hitoshi running a mild fever and Izuku dealing with a sore throat. He'd put it down in his reminders to call the doctor today as soon as they opened to see if he could get the boys in for a visit. Get them started on an antibiotic to fight off whatever was being passed between them. It came on so suddenly it left him reeling.
But with them up and down all night led to them trying to sneak into his bed throughout the night. Always crushing up to cuddle into him when he would take them back to their beds one at a time only to wake an hour or two later to both boys back in his bed. He'd given up when he woke around two-thirty to both boys curled into his back and chest with small hands holding onto him. Given up and contented himself to the night with both six-year-olds in his bed. He knew it was a bad habit he should've broken long ago.
Knew it but he had been too tired. His arms aching from scooping up the six-year-olds repeatedly throughout the night. However, he was exhausted. Frazzled. He just had to thank God he'd chosen to keep the shop closed today due to his sons' illnesses. He reached a hand up to rub at his eyes with a snapping groan as his new coffee pot gurgled at him. He wanted nothing more than to scold the boys for climbing into his bed so relentlessly but he understood it. He knew why they climbed into his bed.
He understood that need for affection when they were both clearly under the weather. He'd climbed into his mothers' bed when he was a child their age for cuddles when he was also sick. He just didn't want to instill bad habits in his boys. Pushing off of the counter, he found himself walking across the kitchen. He knew it would take the pot a bit to get brewed. Might as well check on his kids while he had the time. While they were sleeping. Stretching his arms up over his head, he inhaled sharply as he popped up onto his toes.
Groaning lowly in his throat as his back cracked. Popping quietly when he gave a lazy twist that had his knees popped as well. God, he was stiff. He gently twisted and turned before dropping back on his heels with a low sigh. Check on the boys. Come back for a cup of coffee. Call the doctors to see if they could possibly squeeze them in for he wanted to avoid going to an urgent care if possible. Shuffling across it to the small hallway, he sighed out to himself as he listened to the drag of his slippers over the carpeted floor.
Opening his doors carefully, he peered in to find Izuku and Hitoshi curled together. That would explain the easily transferable sickness between them. He sighed out as he then walked into the room with his feet carrying him over to the bed. Sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, he reached to the bedside table where the kids cough syrup sat with the thermometer. Picking it up, he reached out to carefully brush Hitoshi's hair away from his temple before bringing the thermometer up to press against it.
The answer was immediate with the light, frantic beeps of the machine; one hundred point three degrees. He frowned at the reading when he then reached over to Izuku to brush green curls away from his temple. Pressing the thermometer to his temple, there was another series of that quiet yet frantic beeps of the device in his hand. One hundred point four. Not good. If both boys were running temperatures that wasn't good. Brushing his fingers over Izuku's flushed, freckled cheek gently he then moved his hand.
Rubbing the backs of his fingers lightly against Hitoshi's red cheek. He felt another stab of guilt at his stubbornness in bringing the boys back to their beds last night. If they were cuddled up together like this then did that mean each time he brought them back one would find their way into the others bed? Is that how Izuku came down with whatever Hitoshi had so quickly? He rubbed the backs of his fingers against Hitoshi's hot cheek before sighing out quietly to himself when he let his gaze flicker over to the side.
To the kids cough syrup on his nightstand. He'd used the syringe to give both boys a dose of it after the fourth time he'd brought them back to their room around midnight. They'd both fussed, wrinkled their noses, and whined at him about the taste as he tucked them back in but he'd thought it would knock it out of the park. That it would, for once, be the cure all to help Izuku's sore throat and Hitoshi's fever. Regardless on if they were doing better this morning or not, he'd still be bringing them to the doctors.
He hummed quietly at the slow, even breaths of both boys when he watched dark green lashes fluttering on red cheeks. A hoarse whimper leaving the green-haired boy as curls rubbed against his pillow. When they'd wake, he'd try getting them into a cool bath to bring their fevers down and get them something for their throats if Hitoshi also had a sore throat. He could remember all too clearly the days he spent sick in his own bed, no older than the boys before him, whining and whimpering as he burned up with fever.
Crying until his mother, Yuki, would inevitably come in and scoop him up into her arms and take him to their bed. He felt guilt trying to get the boys to stay in their own beds rather than let them sleep with him but they'd been doing so good. Two weeks in and they hardly slept with him but this seemed to be the exception. The very exception he was happy to make for his boys. If they wanted to cuddle up with him while they recuperated then he would happily isolate himself before going back to work.
They were comfortable enough money wise for him to keep them afloat long enough for him to miss a few days at work. He caught the quiet beeps of the coffee pot from the kitchen prompting him to stand up as he glanced over the flushed boys. When they woke, he'd see if they had any appetite before getting them breakfast. He'd give them some vanilla milk that his own mothers had made for his sore throats growing up and a shot of their cough syrup. Get on the phone with the doctors office to see what can be done.
Shuffling across his bedroom floor quietly, he made his way into the small hallway that was slowly lighting up with the sunlight filling the kitchen. He was grateful he kept his curtains closed so his sons could rest up as much as they could. Stepping into the kitchen, the bottoms of his slippers scraped and scratched over the tiled floor. Making his way over to the coffee pot, he grabbed his mug to slid it over the counter. Stepping over to tug the fridge open just enough for him to grab his container of half and half.
Pouring his coffee into his mug with a few splashes of half and half, he quickly got three spoonful's into the hot liquid which he stirred carefully with the spoon hitting off of the sides of the coffee cup. Bending down to take a sip of the scalding liquid, he hummed as he pulled his spoon out after a few more spins into the sink. Glancing at the clock, he lifted the hot mug up to sip at his coffee with a sigh. Thirty minutes. Thirty more minutes then he could call the doctors office. However, he felt antsy. Jittery.
He was worried for both boys; it wasn't uncommon for Hitoshi to get sick but this was the first time Izuku was sick. The first time under his care that the boy was doing poorly and he worried for him. Worried for them both. He knew how fussy Hitoshi got when he was sick but how would he deal with two sick six-year-old's? He glanced over then at the light patter of feet hitting the tiled floor when he blinked before shifting slightly. Glancing over his shoulder to find Hitoshi standing there weaving on his feet.
And then he held his hands up with a wordless whimper to which he took another gulp at his coffee before putting it down. He shuffled over to his son who held his arms up and he bent down to scoop him up. Legs wrapped around his waist with arms around his shoulders when that hot face buried itself into his throat. Whimpering hoarsely at him as he crooned softly to the indigo-haired child when he made his way back to the counter. Swaying idly as he slid his hand along Hitoshi's back to provide him some comfort.
Kneading at his tense back when he got another hoarse whimper. The boy felt hot in his arms so could it be a body fever as well? Or was it just from sleeping in bed? What did he do if it was a body fever? He pinched his lips together when he squeezed Hitoshi gently to his chest. Feeling the boy tightened his arms and legs around him when he caught the muted steps of another approach. Turning to find Izuku standing before him with hands holding his shirt above his stomach with a hoarse whimper of his own.
"Da-Dad I don't feel good." He frowned at the whine to his son's voice when Hitoshi clung onto him with such a strong hold as he made his way over to Izuku. Did he wake both boys? He hoped not. Making his way over to Izuku when the green-haired boy looked up at him. A pout forming on his lips as green brows squeezed together, he reached down to comb his fingers through the green curls. Hitoshi kept his flushed face pressed into his neck when Izuku tightened his grip on his shirt. "I really don't feel good, Daddy."
"I know, bud, you and Toshi are really goin' through it last night and this morning, huh? I'll have to call the other moms and let you know you both are under the weather. Just so they can keep an eye out on the other kids, yeah? I'll be calling the doctors as soon as I can to get you guys in." Scratching gently at Izuku's head, he pulled his fingers from the green curls when Hitoshi squirmed in his arms with legs and arms tightening around him. "You guys want some vanilla milk? Some tea to help with your throats?"
Izuku whined with tiny hands squeezing at his shirt with a look of panic pinched at his flushed face with widening eyes when his hands then reached out to touch his hand. He blinked down at the sense of panic when Izuku tugged on his hand insistently with a teary sheen forming on those wide green eyes. "No! No, Dad, I really don't feel goo-!"
And then much to his dismay, Izuku was bending over with his mouth widening slightly as if to continue talking. Parted only to come to a stop when the green haired boy was then puking onto his slippered feet. Or was it projectile vomiting? He had not a clue, but it had him jumping back instinctively at the wet splatter hitting his feet when he nearly slipped. Hitoshi tightened his grip on him with a whine when he felt him peeking only to hide his face. "That's gross, Zu! Gross, gross, make'im stop, Dad!"
"Oh! Oh, Izuku, my poor baby!" It was a damn torrent. Gagging and retching so hard, his little body convulsed with tears running down flushed cheeks when it finally came to an end with dry heaves wracking the green-haired boy with sobs. Hands coming up to cover his eyes as if it were too much to look at. Swallowing down the creeping nausea as he fought to wiggle his feet he placed Hitoshi down. "Okay, Hitoshi, wh-why don't you go to the living room for a bit while I get this, and your brother cleaned up?"
The indigo haired child took off without a second thought or protest when he took a deep breath as Izuku wailed with hiccupping sobs before him. His clothing was ruined from the vomit that had gotten onto it and his face redder than when he came out. He slid his feet out of the soaked slippers only to wince at the wet slap of his damp feet on the tiles when big, watery green eyes were looking up at him. "'m sorry! Sorry, Dad, sorry! I didn't mean to! Promise! I-I really didn't mean to do it! I just do-don't feel good!"
"Shh, it's okay, Izu, it's okay! Sometimes we can't help bodily functions, but it doesn't mean it's bad, okay? Stay right here, okay? I need to go get some towels and I'll be right back!" He made his way around the puddle of vomit, hating how damp his feet felt, as he rushed towards the small hallway to the back of it where the small linen closet was. He tugged the thin door open and grabbed a few towels before rushing back towards his wailing son. "It's okay, Izu, it's all okay! It's better out than in, right?"
Izuku seemed utterly inconsolable as he began shaking his head with tears dripping over his fingers as he laid the towel out over the puddle. He winced as it soaked through immediately to which he then grabbed at the hand towel then crouched before Izuku to begin rubbing at his mouth, his nose which was dripping horribly. Coaxing his hands from his eyes to rub at them with the towel when he smiled softly at the teary eyed six-year-old who hiccupped. "I'm-I'm really, really sorry, Dad, I di-didn't mean too!"
"It's perfectly alright, Izu! Slippers can be replaced, floors can be cleaned, and clothing washed!" Brushing his fingers over hot cheeks, he then grabbed the hem of his son's shirt. Tugging the ruined fabric up carefully over the six-year-old's head where he then placed it on the soaked through towel that he gingerly began swiping over the floor to clean up the vomit. Trying not to breathe through his nose when he smiled at his son. "Why don't you go sit with Toshi while I clean up and then we'll get you in the bath, yeah?"
"Okay. You pro-promise you're not mad at me, Daddy?"
There it was. Another little slip up but it had him smiling softly as he leaned in to kiss the green-haired boy's forehead which was positively feverish from his crying no doubt when he pulled back. Gently pinching at a red cheek, he swiped his thumb across his cheekbone gently when he rubbed a tear away from dark lashes. "I'm not mad one bit, darling. Like I said, things can be cleaned, Izu, so go and relax, yeah? Keep the small trashcan in the living room close by in case you need to throw up again, okay?"
Stray tears clung to Izuku's lashes when he nodded again before he trotted away across the kitchen to the hallway quickly. He sighed out as he began wiping up the spot gingerly while holding his breath as he shifted over to open the cabinets beneath the sink to grab a trash bag. It'd be better than letting it sit in the hamper while he mopped, and he could run it through separately. He peeled the top of the trash bag open then flapped it open when he bent down to scoop the soaked towel and the worst of it up with the towel.
Rubbing at the spot before he then lifted it up to slid it into the bag carefully. It damn near had him gagging but he'd tried his best to remain calm in front of Izuku. The poor boy had been so distraught he'd called him Daddy not once but twice. In the entire time he had Izuku under his care, he could recall on one hand the number of times the green-haired boy called him that. Hitoshi didn't really call him Daddy now that he was older but in moments like these it would slip out and he had not a problem with it.
Standing up, he padded around the spot to rush towards the small hallway to the linen closet where his mop was along with another towel. Spinning on his feet back to rush back to the kitchen, he laid out another towel on the floor to swipe up anything he might have missed and stuffed it all in the bag with the soaked towel. He then got to work on pressing the small bottom on his mop handle and mopping the floor. He'd already been planning on wiping the house down today so this truly wasn't going out of his way.
However, he did feel bad for the boy. Was it a stomach bug? Was it something offhanded that would happen once? A one and done situation? Or was it something that would spread to him and Hitoshi as well? It had him worried as he mopped up the spot until the lingering scent of vomit was lost under the chemicals of the mop cleaner. Leaning his mop against the table, he scooped the bag with its soaked towels into the bag when he hesitated before deciding to place his slippers into the empty sink.
Rather than throw them away, he could wash them by hand. Sighing out, he made his way back to the utility room of their home with thudding steps. His feet felt sticky. Unbearably, disgustingly sticky and he couldn't help but wish he'd listened to Izuku beforehand. That he'd paid a bit more attention to how he had grabbed his shirt over his stomach. How panicked he'd begun looking. He didn't blame Izuku for not shouting that he was going to throw up; hell, it snuck up on the best of people. Everyone had accidents.
He just wished he'd listened a bit more intently to the boy when he'd said he didn't feel good. Tugging open the door to the utility room, he shuffled in where he opened up the washer and held his breath when he opened the trash bag with the soaked towels. Dumping them into the wash, he poured a generous amount of laundry detergent and cleaner onto the towels. After adding an additional half a cup, he then shut the top of the washer down to fiddle with the settings. Putting it on a heavy, sanitizing clean.
Pulling the knob out then had water gushing into it when he held the trash bag haphazardly with another deep breath. And then he made his way out of the room back through his small dining room. Back into the kitchen where he gingerly put his slippers into the sink. Stuffed the used trash bag into the trashcan that he then tied off. He'd throw it out soon enough. Turning the sink on, he grabbed at his soap to drizzle over his soaked slippers and hands which he scrubbed vigorously before dunking them under the hot water.
Washing his hands, he plugged up the sink then let the water fill the basin. He reached out for his mug of coffee to take one, two gulps at with a shuddering sigh leaving him. Then he caught the all too familiar sound of vomiting and crying. He winced when he put his mug down, but he found himself rushing forward with the ends of his rob swirling around his calves. Rushing down the hallway to the living room doorway where he found Hitoshi heaving, retching, into the trashcan that Izuku held for him.
A small hand holding it up while another patted at his brother's head comfortingly. Oh, his poor boys. Hitoshi was sobbing in between each bout as he gagged when he rushed forward to the couch to hold the trashcan for the green-haired boy. He crooned at Hitoshi who whimpered hoarsely. Retching before spitting into the trashcan, he winced at the thought of how his day would go. His sons, who had been looking forward to seeing their new friends, seemed utterly heartbroken at the thought of not going.
Once Hitoshi was done, he tied off the trash bag then scooped the boy up to which he balanced him on his hip. Izuku hesitated before reaching out to him and he happily scooped up the boy. Balancing him on his left hip, he adjusted his holds on them with a grunt. Then once more making his way across the living room back to the hall. If his sons were sick, then he had not a problem if they wanted to cuddle in bed with him. If they wanted to stay close to him today. The slaps of his feet over the hallway floor were deafening.
Slapping thuds as he made his way back to the kitchen where the scents of cleaner and his coffee hung in the air like a light miasma. He turned to make his way to the small hallways as Sterling, Twix and Cappella smelled at the spot on the kitchen floor and the mop curiously. Making his way down the carpeted hallway with both boys clinging onto him, he entered his dimly lit bedroom again as he made his way to his bathroom. Pausing before the doorway, he placed Izuku and Hitoshi down when he reached under his beside table.
Grabbing at the trash can he kept in his room out between them. He then walked over to his dresser where he kept spare clothing for the boys in his room. He opened his pajama drawer to grab a small shirt for Izuku before turning to make his way back over to the boys. Helping Izuku into a fresh shirt he then heaved the boy up into his arms then on the bed. Laying him down gently then reaching down for Hitoshi to heave him up into his arms where he then laid him out next to Izuku when he then tugged the blankets up.
Covering both boys up under the blankets when he swallowed down a yawn. Tucking them in gently, he rubbed the backs of his fingers against red cheeks before sighing out. He truly felt awful. He wished he knew where they picked up this illness of theirs but there was nothing, he could do but take them to the doctors and get them sorted out. Stroking red cheeks, he affectionately pinched gently at them when he reached down to grab the trash can that he then propped up onto the bed by their feet.
"I want you both to stay here, okay? Lay down and relax, try to get some sleep, yeah? I've got some calls to make so I'll just be in the kitchen, and I'll be a shout away. You just yell for me if you feel poor or like you might throw up and I'll come running, okay? When I'm done with my calls I'll come in and put a movie on." He gently pinched at red cheeks again with caresses of his thumbs when he stood up. "I'll be back soon, okay? I'll leave the trashcan right here for you both, so you don't have to find it."
"Does this mean we aren't going to school?" Oh, his son's voice was hoarse. Cracking rather sweetly when Izuku squirmed in his spot while Hitoshi then licked his lips before frowning as his expression soured. "Can I have somethin' to drink? My mouth tastes icky."
"Mine does too, Dad!"
Ah, how could he forget to have them wash their mouths out? He wavered on his feet before opening his bedside drawer where he found a few mints within and a small bottle of tic tacs before sighing out as he tugged at the blanket instead to help ease Izuku out of bed then Hitoshi who whined. "I'm sorry, I completely forgot to have you rinse your mouths out! I'd give you mints or tic tacs but I don't want you guys choking on them. So, let's go get your toothbrushes and take this from the top before I go to make my calls, okay?"
"Okay!" It would never fail to make him smile at the hoarse chirps of his sons speaking in unison. Sliding his hands over wild green curls and indigo locks, they began to pad forward to make their way around the big bed as he followed close behind. He hoped it was a twenty-four-hour bug that they had. He hoped it wasn't something serious. He sighed out quietly at the ever-growing list of calls he had to make but his first priority was making sure his boys were comfortable. Then he would handle everything else that came afterwards.
Leaving his bedroom doors cracked, Hizashi sighed out quietly to himself as he began to make his way down the small hallway to the kitchen. The lingering scent of the soup he'd made tonight for the boys hung in the air as he shuffled out into the kitchen. Scratching at the back of his head, he tugged the bun out of his hair with a groan. Today had, in his opinion, been a day of hell. He'd dealt with Hitoshi being sick on his own before, which was normally a walk in the park to make sure that he was comfortable.
He'd spent afternoons with the boy curled in his lap while he slept off his sickness. He knew how to handle one child but two six-year-olds who needed his attention? It was harder than he realized but he had gotten his groove after he'd gotten the boys into an emergency appointment with the doctors that morning. Just barely squeezed in, he had been told it was a typical stomach virus that should clear up either tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. All he can do is give them the medicine prescribed to help with the nausea.
To keep an eye on them. It had him relieved he could give them something to help with the nausea but with two whining six-year-olds who both needed him? It had been hard to give out the needed affection. Like when Hitoshi was crawling into his lap in the living room only to have the two children bickering when Izuku curled into his side. Or when Izuku was in his arms, holding onto him as he opened the box of forehead strips that were supposed to help with fevers and Hitoshi had broken into tears.
Wanting to be up in his arms as he clung to his waist sobbing into his hip. He'd been half tempted to call Nemuri or his mothers over to help him, but he'd managed to get both boys into his bed with the fever strips over their foreheads and a movie on for them. He allowed himself to join them for the movie as he cuddled both boys close to give them the affection, they so clearly needed from him. He'd felt awful giving them their shots of medicine, but he swore he'd never deal with so much puke in his life.
Izuku and Hitoshi had been on and off bouts of vomiting after bringing them into the doctor's office. He'd sworn he had never seen so much puke coming from one small person, but he'd been proven wrong countless times today. He'd tried his best to be accommodating in what each boy needed from him today. However, it often clashed with what the other wanted which led to him trying to take the reins on what he could do. What comfort he could give the boys in their fussy states due to how unwell they were.
It wasn't until dinner that Izuku and Hitoshi woke from their uneasy naps after their syringes of medicine to soothe their stomachs that he had time to clean the house. To scrub it down, take the trash out then tug the barrels to the street to be picked up the next morning. To get the laundry switched over and he ran an empty load to make sure that the washer was completely clean before getting started on a new load. He'd swept and mopped the floors and was scrubbing the surfaces down with lemon pledge.
Only for Izuku had called out to him in that hoarse voice. He'd been surprised when both boys requested something for dinner which he was more than ready to tackle. Soup. Homemade chicken noodle soup was something his own mothers had made for him when sick and they would pick the chicken out to keep from overwhelming his stomach. It was after this request was made by his sons did, he happily got himself into the routine of making the soup. Spending an hour out in the kitchen humming to himself.
Texting Nemuri, Oboro and Tensei on and off only to find out Tensei's brother had gotten sick. The same stomach flu that Mitsuki, Rei, and Kirishima's children all had unfortunately. It was the unanimous agreement that the boys had picked it up at school or perhaps at the park when Mitsuki and Rei had taken them the previous weekend. However, the more obvious pointed to it being picked up at the school given how it only now began manifesting in the children. He didn't care where they picked it up for it didn't matter.
Nothing did other than making his boys feel better. And it was as he stood out in the kitchen cooking the soup that Izuku and Hitoshi both came shuffling out. A parlor to their skin that contrasted the flushed appearances of their fever earlier, but they hadn't said much to him. Instead of choosing to balance on his feet they clung to his waist with small faces burying themselves into it. Clinging onto him as he shuffled carefully around the kitchen humming with occasional caresses over wild indigo locks and wild green curls.
Once dinner had been finished and served with more broth, vegetables and noodles in his sons' bowls he sat them at the table. Their bowls before them. They hardly touched the food itself but had sipped slowly at the broth which was more than he could ask for. He didn't care what they ate so long as the had something. He'd given them both a few saltines to chew on in between their weak sips at the broth before he was carrying them back to bed at their insistence. Hardly touched their bowls save for the broth but it was a win.
Even if he ended up dumping them out, his sons were able to ingest and keep something down outside of saltine and cups of water they nursed throughout the day. It had been a long, tiring day with worry on his end of things and his children lost in their malaise in between bouts of vomiting. He was only grateful that he managed to get them to lie down for the night before he would inevitably join them. They had curled up easily after he'd gotten them tucked into his bed for the night with a show playing for them.
Standing in his kitchen, he shuffled over to the cabinet to grab at the biggest containers he had for storage, and their cover. He then stepped in front of the stove to begin ladling the soup into the container carefully. The noodles, vegetables and chicken being the easier of the bunch to scoop up into the container. Such a long day he'd had. He felt more than ready to head to bed to rest for the night. Constantly being on his feet taking care of two six-year-old's would drain anyone. A single parent the way he was?
It was exhausting. Spooning the soup into the container, he hummed softly to himself as he caught the murmur of the TV in the living room. A quiet, comforting background sound as he continued spooning the soup. Such a busy day would leave anyone worn out. He sighed out as he placed the hot container down on the counter to pick the pot up and began to drain the broth into the container. His own bowl of soup sat on the table waiting for him. It had his stomach snarling again with a twisting cramp.
He was starving. He hadn't realized that being around two puking six-year-old's would affect his own appetite so strongly. He wasn't the squeamish type, but he hadn't realized he'd been fasting right along with the children. His stomach growled sharply at him again much like Shouta's had the other day in his shop. Twisting with a pang that insisted he eat something before it teetered on that edge where he was too nauseous to eat anything. Before he couldn't keep anything down due to his lack of appetite.
He finished draining the broth into the container to which he shuffled over to slide the pot into the sink. Covering the container with a snap of the container fitting into place, he walked over to the fridge to open the door with a suck then slid the container on the top shelf. He then shut the door and happily rushed towards the small table to sit down before his bowl of steaming soup. His phone sat face up on the table with the ceiling above reflected on the black screen. Tugging his chair in, he settled into place.
There was a nudge against his calf that had him looking down to find large light blue eyes locked onto him when Sterling chirruped. Nudging her face in a gentle headbutt against his calf prompting him to reach down and scratch her small head. Up under her chin when she began to purr when he smiled softly before pulling his hand away. He stirred his soup causing steam to lazily puff up as his mouth watered at the scent of the soup. God, he was starving. Swirling his spoon through the soup once more.
Then he scooped up a bite of chicken, celery and carrots that he slid into his mouth. Chewing as he hummed softly at the seasonings of the soup. Dipping his spoon into the broth to get a spoonful to go with it which he sucked down quickly. Bouncing his knees under the table, he picked his phone up to unlock the screen where he then tapped at the TikTok icon. Opening the app up when he began to aimlessly scroll as he took another bite of his soup when he slid his spoon out to tap it lightly on the side of his bowl.
Rocking his knees under the table as he scrolled through his feed on his TikTok before switching it over to Facebook. Tapping on the notifications, he entered the group with Mitsuki only to find a new profile in the friends list. Shouta Aizawa. He blinked at the picture of the scruffy man he'd seen in his shop. He felt it would be too much, but his thumb was moving to tap on his profile only for him to frown to find the account set as private. Shrugging his shoulders in a roll, he exited out of Shouta's Facebook with a flicker of guilt.
He shouldn't be creeping on someone else's Facebook anyhow; why had he clicked? Was it that morbid sense of curiosity again? Wanting to find more answers to the mounting questions he had about the exhausted, scruffy man? He hadn't gotten so much as a call or text from the black-haired man so what had overcome him to look? To tap on his account? What had he been hoping to find? Was he just fried from his day of pampering his sons? Possibly. Could anyone blame him? It would take it out of anyone.
Would drain anyone who had to take care of two fussy, sick children all day long. Sighing out, he scooped up another bite of his soup that consisted mostly of noodles and broth much to his delight when he found himself scrolling through his feed. Reading updates, looking through pictures posted from his mothers, sisters and younger brother. From his friends. Scrolling through the app idly before closing out the app as he put his phone down with a clatter. Sighing out to himself as he scooped up another mouthful.
Listening to the click of the spoon hitting off of his teeth when his phone pinged. Blinking, he slid his phone closer to find a text from the group chat from Monoma explaining her son, Neito, had come down with the same flu with Kaminari popping in to also share the same unfortunate news about her eldest son, Denki, and her young daughters. Was everyone just catching the stomach flu lately? He frowned at the thought of it being that contagious amongst the children. But he also knew how six-year-olds reacted to one another.
How they played together. Space wasn't exactly going to be something they gave one another when they were running around a park or the school playground. He sighed at the thought of more children out sick with this stomach flu when he got another ping that had him focusing his gaze on the screen as he put his phone down. There were a few texts coming in quickly from Rei and Mitsuki sharing sympathies to which he opened the chat to express his own quickly. Even with that he didn't understand it.
He didn't understand how the flu could be passed between children so quickly like this. But it's not like there's a vaccine to prevent the stomach flu. It was something that they would have to ride out the waves of until it was completely out of everyone's systems. Hopefully it'd be soon. Either way, he was sure more parents wouldn't be sending their kids in and stop the spread of it. He hoped at least. While he'd been given the timeline of the next two days for it to clear up, he couldn't help feeling pity for Izuku and Hitoshi.
He himself was no fan of vomiting and yet both of his boys had hardly kept anything down today. It left him running to their beck and call to make sure that they were comfortable. That they both got enough of him throughout the day to leave them satisfied. He'd been told by the doctor, however, to keep an eye on their fevers and had told him to try those fever strips in the store to place over their foreheads. Something to put on them to bring their fevers down. He was told to also use the cough syrup as needed.
He'd been more than happy to stop by the pharmacy after placing an online order for pick up where he got everything he could. Anything to make the next two days bearable for his sons. They hardly kept anything down today but the broth from the chicken noodle soup seemed to be weighing well on their stomachs. Or, at least, he hadn't heard any vomiting in the last hour since he laid the boys down for bed. He'd been holding hair back, patting and stroking backs gently each time there was a shouted warning of a throw up.
He'd done his best to make sure that he was there to rub their backs as they clung onto him. To rock gently to soothe them in their naps. It was taking everything to make sure they were comfortable but here he was with his soup, feeling more exhausted than them. All he could be grateful for is that they went down to bed much easier than they had for their naps. Fevers tended to take it out of a person so surely, they would sleep through the night. He'd begun feeling warm himself earlier but it had dissipated.
God, he hoped it wasn't an omen. He hoped it didn't mean he was catching what his sons had. He'd been worrying over it but the flushed feeling had come back an hour ago and he'd been consistently cold but he'd been hesitant to check the thermometer. He'd have to face it eventually given his own icy cold hands couldn't tell if he was hotter than normal. He didn't want to face that sickness yet. Not after he'd done his best to sanitize and wipe down the house while he had the time in between his sons naps.
Oh, they'd been utterly exhausted with them sleeping on and off throughout the day. Sometimes minutes at a time and sometimes hours at a time. Tying trash bag after trash bag with each bout of vomiting his sons had but the medicine seemed to be doing wonders on their nausea at least. After getting his condolences out to the other mothers of the group, he placed his phone down with a sigh. He found his fingers drumming lightly over the table as he ate his soup with a squeak of the chair when he shifted slightly.
Why couldn't he get that conversation the other day out of his mind? His introduction to Shouta? The man seemed so familiar to him, but he couldn't understand why. Did they go to school together? He seemed the same age as himself and Oboro so that would put him at twenty-six as well? So how did he come into custody of a baby? Why did he look so familiar, it was itching at him? Why did he want to know more? Was it simply curiosity? Did he feel sympathetic enough to feel out more about this man?
There was nothing about their past two interactions that made sense to him. If they'd gone to high school together then was, he a quieter student? He wasn't one for sports but rather marked as a "theatre kid" back then due to the plays he did and then there was chorus. So could he have simply missed Shouta back then? He had spent all of his off time with Nemuri and Oboro but they both had other friends besides him just like he had his friends. So was it possible that they were friends with Shouta? He had more questions than he had answers.
More questions that had him tapping his fingers sharply on the table with a huff as he spooned another mouthful in that he chewed quickly with the quiet drag of his metal spoon over the ceramic bottom of his bowl. Stirring idly. Why was he letting himself get so curious over one man? A stranger of all people. It made no damn sense. He was acting no better than an obsessed teenage boy with a crush. No better than a fangirl over a celebrity. He could always ask Oboro about it and see if he possibly knew the man.
Would that hurt anyone? If he simply asked if Oboro knew him? Popping another mouthful of his soup into his mouth, he drummed his fingers against the table. The thoughts, the questions, running around and around relentlessly in his head like stinging wasps. Was it normal to be curious about a stranger? Possibly. Sighing out to himself, he tugged an open sleeve of crackers out of the box with a hum when he opened them up. Popping one, two crackers into his mouth he twitched at how loud his crunching was.
His phone pinged twice in rapid succession of one another with a third ping ringing out from the group chat. He wanted to poke his head in on Izuku and Hitoshi to make sure he was alright with them, but he bit back the urge. He'd seen them five minutes ago for a check in after he laid them down so surely, they were okay? He bounced his knees beneath the surface of the table with a slow sigh as he stood up. He shouldn't but he found himself walking to the fridge where his bottle of wine was sitting from last week.
Pulling it out, he shuffled over to his cabinets to grab a wine glass before returning to the table back into his seat. Twisting the cap off, he knew it was far too sweet and would contrast horribly with his soup, but he didn't mind it. Not one bit. He poured himself a glass of the pink, semi-sweet wine then set the bottle back near the crackers. Just one glass. He'd give himself one glass to relax and help him sleep night when he finally turned in. He took a sip of his wine then sat the glass down carefully when his phone pinged again.
He then reached over to grab the device. This time from Oboro who, surprisingly, was asking for a video call tonight. To Face Time. When was the last time that he'd talked let alone seen the blue-haired man? Nemuri had made her appearances lately, but he hadn't reached out to Oboro in God knows how long. He got another ping from the group chat which he tapped open to reply to the most recent text. He quickly finished typing out his response in the group chat before closing it out quickly to tap on Oboro's notification.
Opening his texts with the blue-haired man who was asking him to FaceTime him. When was the last time he'd talked to Oboro? When was the last time he'd seen him? Heard his voice? He'd been talking with Nemuri mostly but he couldn't remember the last time they spoke. After giving his answer, he closed out his texts then tapped on FaceTime to get the app opened up when the call came in. He jumped but quickly propped his phone up against his cracker box precariously before accepting the FaceTime call.
The screen loaded for a moment with the small circle spinning round once, twice, before the image came through on his phone. There was Oboro, sitting in his bedroom, with a smile bursting over his lips once the video finally loaded and he got an over-eager wave from the blue-haired man on the screen. "Zashi! Hey! I'm glad that you could call tonight! How are you doing? Nem told me you were running all over the place because the boys are both sick, right?"
"Unfortunately, yeah, Izu and Toshi are both sick with a stomach bug, but it seems like half the kids they were playing with also got it. I'm thinking it spread at school or something like it!" Sighing out, he picked his spoon up again to swirl through his soup when he scooped up another mouthful preemptively with his pack of open crackers next to him. The quiet drip of the broth spilling over the sides of his spoon was deafening. "But what's up? What's with the late-night call?"
"Oh! I just wanted to call! I feel like you only ever talk to Nem now a days because she has more time to stop by the shop. How are you doing? Really? I know Nem tells me things now and again with the last time being that you looked like shit then that you looked good." The blue-haired man ten tipped his head to the side with a slight jut to his lower lip with a dissatisfied expression as brows squeezed together tightly. "I mean, you look good, but it feels like we haven't talked in forever, dude!"
"Do you want me to profess how badly I missed you? That I crave to hang out with you and talk about your sexless marriage? Let you vent your woes and plights onto me then expect me to kiss it all better?" Using that playful tone of voice had the jut to Oboro's bottom lip trembling with lips pinching together. That playful sparkle coming to light up blue eyes as he leaned forward resting his chin on his hand. "Or do you just miss me? If so, I think you might just like me or something! I'll have to tell your wife!"
"You're a fucking asshole, you know that?" And yet, despite the sharp words, the blue-haired man was losing his pseudo pout for a snicker which had him snorting when he lifted his chin from his hand to scoop up another bite of his soup which he popped into his mouth quickly with a slurp. A click of the metal hitting off of teeth was deafening when Oboro chuckled. "But would it be so bad to say I miss you? You're my best friend, after all, and I barely see you with how you run yourself ragged! Love me, Zashi!"
"Thanks but no thanks. No offense but I'd rather not love on a sex-repulsed asexual, thank you very much! Wouldn't do much if nothing is going on downstairs if that's the type of lovin' you have in mind and even then I think that's strictly for your wife!" Oh, it had the blue-haired man cackling over the phone with a snort that had him grinning at the man. "But I miss you too, Oboro. We should figure some shit out when I don't have the boys and hang out, yeah? You're practically being starved of my affection clearly!"
"Oh, clearly! I'm in desperate need to hang out with my bestest of best friends! Please, Zashi, have mercy and hang out with me, please?" It had his grin widening when he rolled his eyes at the theatrics of the blue-haired man who then shifted with the screen going black briefly before it was propped up with Oboro's chin resting on a folded arm. Laid out on his stomach with a wide smirk on his lips. "But how are your little guys doing? I remember getting the stomach flu as a kid and it was rough. How are you and them holding up?"
"About as well as a single father of two puking children can be." He picked up his wine glass delicately then brought it up to take a longer sip at the semi-sweet liquid before placing his glass back down with a sigh. "I feel so bad, you know? I wish they'd never caught it. I thought it'd be strep or something but nope! Instead the poor kids are puking their guts out every two hours! I guess I can only be thankful that they have this medicine that helps beautifully with the nausea but it's a task getting them to drink it."
The blue-haired man's face scrunched with a sympathetic wince. Oboro had always been the boys favorite non-Uncle figure in their lives; they loved seeing Oboro and Nemuri. Spending nights over at their apartments for nightly stays. He let out another sigh as he traced the rim of his wine glass. "Yeah, I get that in a weird way, you know? I don't have kids, probably never will, but I love Izu and Toshi like my own too but I can only imagine being in the trenches right now. I really do hope they make a speed recovery!"
"Me too. I feel so bad listening to them cry like they do." Frowning briefly to himself, he caught that sympathetic expression pinching at the blue-haired man's face again when he then shook his head before scratching at his cheek. "Anyways, was there anything specific that you called me for? Was I right in that you needed some of my affection because you've been starved of it? Do you need me to come over and read you a bedtime story too, Oboro? Need me to kiss you good night?"
"Only if you want too but I'm always up for goodnight kisses!" He couldn't help snorting as he rolled his eyes again at the blue-haired man who grinned at him with his head tipping to press his cheek against his forearm with that sparkle to his gaze again. "But hey, I wanted to ask you something! Have you seen a scrunkly looking guy coming to your shop? About six foot, black hair and most definitely has a baby?"
"There is no way you're about to talk about who I think you're going to talk about! Shouta, right? I met him twice now and I was going to bring him up to you to ask about him!" Blue eyes sparkled at him with a smile curling over Oboro's lips with brows raising up. As if he was pleased he already knew who he was talking about and it had him smiling back at the blue-haired man. This was all working out! All of it coming full circle to the topic he wanted to talk about. "He looks so familiar but I can't place his face, you know?"
"Totally reasonable but we were in the same grade back in high school! He's recently been coming by the shop again now and again to talk! He's pretty quiet, stoic, and emotionally constipated like he was back in high school! Very reserved I dare say but he's still a good friend of mine!" Oboro then hummed when he caught ight of the blue-haired man kicking his feet idly with light hits to the pillow puffing from the impacts. "He's nice in that shy way, you know? But recently he asked about you, you know."
"He what?" No, he didn't know. It had his heart stumbling over it's beats when he shifted in his seat with his fingers slipping off the edge of his wine glass causing it to tip. He hissed a curse before jerking back in his chair to jump up. Rushing over to the stove where he had a new hand towel draped over the handle. The wine spilling over the edge of the table with a light splatter when he rushed over to wipe it up and stop that spilling over the edge of the table when he looked to the camera. "What did he ask about?"
"Oh, nothing serious! He just wanted to confirm that your name is your name and that the phone number you gave wasn't a dummy one! He's kinda skeptical that you could be so nice or that anyone can be that nice to him! He dealt with some bullying back in high school because he's so quiet. I feel bad that I never could get that bullying to stop." Oboro frowned briefly when he settled back into his seat. "But he's a chill guy! I've smoked with him and drank with him more than once! Just give'im time to text!"
Rubbing at the table to get the wine up, he then draped it over the floor and used his foot to mop up the wine that had spilled over. He raised his brows at the blue-haired man who continued to idly kick his feet with the impacts on the pillow ringing out. He then narrowed his eyes at Oboro when he pushed his glasses up. "So you're going to hold all your secrets to yourself, huh? You're not going to give me any details? Tell me nothing about this man? He could be a serial killer with a baby for all I know!"
"Nope! Zashi, this is the type of man that you let him approach the situation, you know? Let him come to you and you can get to know him! You need to brush up on your social skills anyways! So why not use this chance to get to know someone all by yourself like you are with your mom group?" Scowling at the blue-haired man, he caught bronze shoulders moving in a shrug at him with blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "Hey, don't look at me like that! It's your fault that you didn't get his number when you gave him yours!"
"Because I didn't want to make it weird, you idiot! How would you feel if a stranger gave you their number then asked for yours?" He watched Oboro's lips pinching together with sparkling eyes flicking off to the side when shoulders scrunched up slightly. Feet kicking while fingers plucked at the blanket in a soft sound that overwhelmed the speaker when he huffed out a breath. "Exactly! See? You'd see it as flirting and that's not the angle I'm going for at all! I'm not looking to flirt but rather just offer help!"
"Is that what you called it when you hooked up with-"
"Oi! We don't talk about that! Or about him!" The blue-haired man snickered wildly with that mischievous sparkle to his gaze. To the smile curved over his lips wickedly when he felt heat gathering in the back of his neck and stinging at the tips of his ears. Unbearably hot when the blue-haired man raised his brows knowingly. He didn't like to talk about his past relationships, certainly not in that playful manner when he scowled at the blue-haired man. "This is different! I'm not looking to get into something complicated!"
"I know, I know! I'm just poking fun at ya! No need to get so huffy and defensive over it!" Scoffing at the blue-haired man who merely smirked widely at him with that catty wickedness to him. If Oboro knew Shouta then that was damn near enough to satisfy his curiosities on why he looked so familiar. "But anyways, I wanted to know if you would like to take the time this week to talk? Catch up? Obviously after the boys are feeling better! I know Nem's been convincing to get a staff thing set up for the shop?"
"Yeah, she's been talking about it but I don't want to jump headfirst into it, you know? I want to make sure I'm not paying under or at minimum wage. I want to pay my potential employees good, you know? But not so good I go bankrupt or put myself in the hole if that makes sense to you." He shifted in his chair causing it to squeak when he stared down at the remainders of his soup before pushing the bowl away. His stomach gurgled before squeezing when he swallowed. "I want good wages."
"I completely get that! We can talk more about that when we eventually meet up! But hey, are you okay? You're looking kinda weird, Zashi. Are you coming down with the flu too?" Was he? Is that what this weird flipping of his stomach was? Why it was gurgling so unpleasantly? He swallowed again when the blue-haired man's brows pinched together tightly causing wrinkles to fork over the bridge of his nose ever so slightly. "I'll let you go, okay? You should go lay down if you're feeling funky."
"I- Yeah, you know what? I think I will. It came on so suddenly but I'll let you go too just so you don't have to see me possibly puke my guts out, yeah? I'll talk to you later." The blue-haired man nodded when the call was then cut off. He couldn't help a low groan when his stomach dropped again with another gurgle. God, if he had this twenty-four hour bug it was going to make taking care of the boys complicated. He wasn't one to pray but fuck if he wasn't praying he'd be alright. Please, God, let him be fine.
Please, take mercy on him and let it be a fluke.