Chapter Text
“As cute as this extended sleepover is,” Shouta says at breakfast two days after the mall incident, “it’s not really ideal for the long run.”
Izuku and Ochako both look devastated by this being said aloud, but Shouta is the adult for a reason. And he does not want two hormonal teenagers that are also dating living under one roof. Sure, he’s pretty sure the two haven’t actually done anything past hand-holding (with gloves) and cuddling, nor have they attempted to recreate their disastrous first kiss - and the footage of that had been just as hilarious as Shouta had imagined - but...
These two teenagers are going to need a break from each other pretty damn soon. Ochako is a good kid, and maybe if Shouta and Hizashi hadn’t only just taken Izuku in, they might have been able to offer her a home. But as it is, she needs care and attention that they just can’t give her long term right now. She deserves better than that.
So, in a group chat hastily created the day after Shigaraki attacked his kids, Shouta had sent out a call for volunteers. And a subtle threat for Nedzu to get his ass into gear regarding a proper dorm system that’s not just for wards, but that’s besides the point.
The point is, Shouta now has a few options to lay out for Ochako to choose from.
“First off,” Shouta says, “your current living situation cannot continue.”
Ochako nods quietly, her fingers anxiously twisting the fabric of her skirt.
“To that end, I’ve contacted some of the other UA staff that also have foster licences,” Shouta continues.
“We’re not removing you from your parents,” Hizashi interjects as the girl’s eyes start to water. “Fostering doesn’t have to sever parental rights. While in Izuku’s case that did occur, it’s actually less common than you’d think. In your circumstances, you’d fall into the category of needing care because your parents can’t provide for you right now, not that they’re bad parents.”
“We’ve fostered before,” Shouta says idly, “About five years ago, a kid needed someone to stay with for a few months while her mother recovered from illness. It would be similar for you.”
“Oh,” Ochako whispers. She seems relieved to hear that. Shouta decides not to add that the kid ended up with him and Hizashi because of extremely blatant quirkism and an unfortunate incident involving a fucking muzzle. Hmm, Shouta should message Tomoni and see if the kid is up for a visit. She must be around Midoriya's age, actually...
“So far, Snipe, Midnight and Lunch Rush have said they’re willing to take you in.”
Ochako ducks her head nervously. It’s understandable, given everything, that she’s uncertain about how to proceed.
“Could - Could I talk to Mr Snipe about it?” Ochako asks eventually and Shouta nods. “He’s always so nice in Physics, and has lots of ideas for my quirk!”
“Brainwashing, huh,” Shouta muses as he flicks through Shinsou’s folder. The kid himself is standing nervously a few feet away, trying to look like he isn’t one strong wind away from falling over. “That’s a good quirk.”
Shinsou twitches oddly, and Shouta tilts his head. Now that he’s in the same room as the kid, and not seeing him from the announcer’s booth at the sports festival, the kid looks oddly familiar.
Except Shouta would swear he’s never met this kid before in his life.
Unless...
The quirk is the same, even if his name, hair and physique have completely changed.
“We ended up keeping Creep,” Shouta says idly, flicking to a different page, and Shinsou inhales sharply. “You should come see her sometime.”
“Mr Aizawa,” Shinsou starts, and Shouta finally looks up from the folder.
“He/Him?” Shouta confirms, and the teen nods, trembling. “Cool. I’ll let Zashi know. He’ll be delighted to see you again, Hitoshi.”
“He won’t be mad?”
Shouta raises an eyebrow. “Of course not,” he says. “A little upset that you didn’t come visit maybe, but he’ll just be ecstatic to see you.” He pauses briefly. “He’ll probably cry with joy, actually.”
“Huh,” Hitoshi mutters. “That seems right.”
“Midoriya will be there too,” Shouta tacks on, and he signs the mentorship papers with far fewer reservations than he thought he’d have - the perk of having known Hitoshi previously, even if only for a few months several years previously. “Hizashi and I are fostering him.”
“Oh,” Hitoshi says. “It’s.. not like mine, is it.”
“It’s on a more permanent basis, if that’s what you’re asking,” Shouta shares easily. “His situation was... not ideal.”
Hitoshi snorts, and Shouta’s lips twitch. “He’s cool,” Hitoshi says. “I don’t mind if he doesn’t.” He hesitates. “You were both really good to me,” he adds. “I never really thanked you then, but I’ve never forgotten what you did for me.”
Shouta’s lets his eyes soften as he passes over one of the copies of paperwork to Hitoshi. “You’re a good kid,” Shouta says fondly, and then ruffles the boy’s hair, which is much darker now than it was five years ago. “It’s good to see you again.”
It's even better to see him happy now, because five years ago, Hitoshi had been a scared, terrified child. Sometimes, time really does heal.
Shouta has caught Izuku looking longingly at his wedding photo with Hizashi more than once. It’s strange, he thinks, that his son is so fixated on the photo, but maybe it’s because it’s such a stark contrast to their usual clothes?
In it, Shouta himself is dressed in a simple but elegant black suit, with a tie that matches his husband’s eyes near perfectly. And Hizashi, well. He’s dressed in a stunning white suit, one with a definite feminine style, that contrasts beautifully with the jet black bow around his neck.
It’s a simple pose, because neither could be bothered with going to a different location just for photos, but it definitely holds a special place in Shouta’s heart. He has his arm wrapped around Hizashi’s slim waist, a tiny smile on his lips as he beams up at his husband, their faces a breath apart as though they’re about to kiss. Hizashi’s own smile is gentle, but lights up his whole face, nearly as much as he brightens Shouta’s world.
It’s a sappy, stupidly dangerous photo if someone villainous were to find it, but Shouta frankly doesn’t give a single shit about that.
Behind them in the photo, the sky is a radiant blue under the Summer sun, and Shouta remembers the photographer wanting them to wait to take it until the wispy clouds behind them had passed. They’d been the only clouds all day, and when Hizashi and Shouta turned to stare at them in wonder, had insisted on the photo being taken immediately.
Oboro may not have been there in person, but both Shouta and Hizashi agreed that he was there in spirit, as they said their vows on the UA rooftop where they’d spent so much of their youth.
So in all honesty, Shouta isn’t bothered by how fixated Izuku is on the picture. But when he catches him for the second time in one day, he has to ask. “You like it?”
Izuku twitches and then nods, ducking his head at being caught. But then he lifts his gaze again, to smile shyly up at Shouta. “You both look so happy,” he says quietly, and there’s a soft awe in his voice. “It’s... it’s kind of dumb but I wish I could’ve been there.”
Shouta tilts his head consideringly, and then shamelessly pulls his son against his chest in a gentle hug. “It was one of the happiest days of my life,” he says far more genuinely than he would admit to anyone else save for Hizashi. He snickers quietly then, and doesn’t have to see his son’s face to know he’s pouting in confusion. “It was only a few years after we graduated, so you would’ve been what, six? You could’ve been the flower boy.”
At that, Izuku giggles. “I would make a wonderful flower boy,” he says pompously, the effect lost to the way his words are muffled by Shouta’s shirt.
“Tenya did his best,” Shouta adds, because he’s not above giving his son blackmail against his friend. “But he was so serious about it, insisted on using a measuring cup to evenly disperse the flowers. He had little chalk marks drawn on the concrete where he was going to drop the flowers.”
Izuku bursts into giggles. “I can see that,” he wheezes. And then, Shouta gets an idea.
It’s... an intimate, almost terrifying thing, but Shouta wants his son to have this. “You know,” he says carefully, “if you want, I could... show you. My memory.”
Izuku almost pushes Shouta back in his haste to pull away so he can stare up at him. “Really?”
Shouta knows his traitorous cheeks are slowly turning pink. “Yes,” he admits, and despite his embarrassment at feelings he makes sure to keep his eyes locked with his son’s. “It’s not the same as being there but-“
“Yes, I’d love to,” Izuku interjects, and then all but drags Shouta over to the couch and to shove him down. In moments, he’s wheezing out a breath as the weight of a teen hits his side, and Izuku’s familiar presence curls up expectantly in his mind.
Shouta just snorts, and reaches for the memory of that wonderful day.