"so what you're saying," tsukauchi deadpanned. "is that you found a random kid on the street in a muzzle, and instead of taking him to a hospital or his social worker, you've decided to take him and yet another cat into your home as an emergency foster child, without notifying me or your husband before making that decision?"

aizawa resisted the urge to roll his eyes. tsukauchi had always been a bit too straight-laced for him. he didn't regret taking hitoshi in, and he didn't plan to. "yes."

tsukauchi sighed. "what's his full name?"

"shinsou hitoshi. i think he's around ten years old, and he was in a foster home near the _____ province, with visible injuries and a locked muzzle that looked like it had been on for a long time. i'll handle his injuries and get him settled in, let me know if there's any updates on his case."

there was a long pause. "alright, i'll get started on the investigation tonight or tomorrow morning. i will most likely need to talk to shinsou once he's properly settled."

"thanks. keep in contact."

"goodnight, eraser."

beep.

aizawa massaged his temples, where the echoes of a headache were starting to build. he could hear soft splashes from the bathroom, and the scent of lavender seeping from the crack in the door was making his eyes droop in exhaustion.

"hitoshi?" aizawa called from outside the door. "how is it going?"

no answer came.

oh shit, he's mute.

"uh, knock on something once for yes and twice for no, okay?"

one knock.

"are you okay?"

one knock. yes.

"can i come in? it'll make it easier to sign, but i won't come in if you don't want me to."

one knock.

hitoshi was submerged up to his neck in bath water and bubbles, his cheeks rosy and hair fluffy from the steam. there were bubbles covering his cheeks and hands, like he'd been playing with them.

"are you warmed up now?"

he nodded, blinking slowly. he was probably getting tired.

"are you ready to get out?"

hitoshi seemed to consider for a minute, and then nodded. sleepy, he signed.

"me too. i'll get you a towel and some clothes to change into."

aizawa chose the softest towel from the closet, and by the time hitoshi was dressed in the spare clothes they kept for emergency fosters, hizashi was acquainting himself with luna, cooing softly.

he looked up from his position next to the cat tree, taking in shinsou's appearance; the borrowed clothes hung loose on his small frame, and the blood on his forehead had started to dry. he was swaying slightly on his feet, eyes half lidded and movements sluggish.

"let's patch up your forehead and then you can head to bed, okay?" hizashi stood, waiting for hitoshi's nod before heading to the kitchen and pulling the first aid kit from a cabinet.

hitoshi sat on the counter while they disinfected the gash on his forehead. it wasn't too deep, but it had clearly been left uncared for for too long, as the blood had crusted into the opening, and the half-formed scabs were brittle and weak. hizashi hesitated as he reached for the cuts in hitoshi's jaw, but his hands started to shake, and when aizawa gently took the wipe from his hand, his eyes were distant.

"hey, 'zashi." aizawa murmured, squeezing his husband's hand. he blinked and some of the awareness came back to his eyes, but something dark had come over his face. "why don't you make some tea? i can finish up on my own."

hizashi gave him a weak smile and did as he said, pulling his favorite tea set down and sifting through his extensive tea collection for the perfect brew.

once his husband was cared for, aizawa returned his attention to hitoshi, who was beginning to doze off on the countertop. his eyes shot open quickly when aizawa pressed the wipe to one of his cuts. seeing who it was, hitoshi relaxed, sitting still while aizawa wiped down the rest of his face. during the whole process, hitoshi had shown a concerningly low reaction to pain, showing barely any change in expression even at the darkest bruises.

"hey, kid?" hitoshi blinked slowly up at him. "do you want me to put bandaids on these cuts or leave them like this?"

hitoshi's mouth twisted the the side and he thought, staring off into space for a moment. he raised his hands and signed, B-A-N-D-A-I-D.

"okay, i have a few different kinds for you to choose from." he pulled out a few half empty boxes of decorated bandaids.

hitoshi was practically asleep by the time aizawa was done littering his face in sanrio bandaids. hizashi leaned against the counter across the kitchen, quietly instructing shouta on how best to place them. apparently my melody and kuromi had to be next to each other at all times, no matter what.

"we're done, hitoshi. we can go to bed now."

hitoshi hummed sleepily, reaching up to trace the edges of the kuromi bandage on his cheek. he smiled a little, the tip of one tooth peeking out from his lips, and aizawa and hizashi locked eyes, internally screaming about how adorable he was.

he hopped lightly off the counter and grasped onto the sleeve of aizawa's shirt. hitoshi looked a lot like a cat when he was sleepy, and that was a comparison he'd never be able to return from.

aizawa led him down the hall to the guest bedroom. it wasn't much at the moment. the walls were painted a soft, inoffensive shade of blue, and the bed was made with white linen sheets and fresh pillows. aizawa clicked on the lamp on the dark wood night stand.

hitoshi stood hesitantly by the door, looking around with curious eyes. he yawned again, and aizawa beckoned him over to the bed.

once he was settled in, hands curled around an old stuffie hizashi excavated, hizashi bid hitoshi goodnight, and left them alone. aizawa, reluctant to leave shinsou's sight, hovered, fluffing up the pillows and smoothing the covers.

hitoshi watched him, fiddling with the ribbon on the plushie. when aizawa looked at him he averted his gaze, frowning a little.

"is something wrong?" aizawa asked.

he didn't answer, just frowned more. aizawa sat gently on the bed next to him.

"do you want me to stay with you until you fall asleep?"

red flooded hitoshi's cheeks, and he turned away to bury his face against the pillow.

taking that as a yes, aizawa shifted to a more comfortable position, smiling when hitoshi rolled over to snuggle closer into his side, face still hidden. he gently placed his arm around him, running his fingers through the tangles in hitoshi's soft hair.

hitoshi was asleep in minutes, and aizawa followed soon after, listening to the soft rhythm of his breathing.

he woke up in the morning with stiff shoulders and no regret.

———

the first thing hitoshi noticed when he woke up was warmth.

his half-asleep mind was sluggish, but there was warmth pressed against his side, and a hand carding through his hair.

wait. what?

his breath caught in his throat and he shot up, away from the warmth and the gentleness and the unfamiliar. the harsh sunlight seared his eyes, and he scrambled backwards, his legs tangling in the softsoftsoft sheets. he let out a panicked yelp as he tumbled to the floor with a thump, and then froze.

he reached shaking hands to his face.

it's gone.

he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. he's probably dead now, because his foster parents would never take it off, not for a second because his quirk was bad, shinsou, don't you dare even think about brainwashing us you'll grow up to be a dirty villain i just know it maybe we should just kill you now and save the world the trouble-

they must have finally gotten sick of him, because he was dead. he was dead and the walls were soft and blue and the bed was softer than anything he'd ever touched and it smelled like lavender and there was a stuffed bear on the floor next to him and he had never owned that, had never owned anything because what was the point when he never stayed anywhere long and eraserhead is kneeling in front of him and he's talking but the ringing in hitoshi's ears is so loud now and he looks worried sad annoyed and his lips are telling hitoshi to breathe but he's dead and if he's dead he can't breathe so why-

"-itoshi, please, i need you to breathe. you're safe, you're in my house with me and my husband hizashi. breathe in for four out for four. it's okay, i promise. do you remember last night?"

do you remember last night?

last night? he remembers kinoko crying under her bed, remembers his foster parents yelling at him to shut her up. some kids at school had cut her hair while she took a nap, and after coaxing her out from underneath with just his hands and shaky writing, he snuck her to the bathroom and tried to fix it with a pair of dull safety scissors he'd stolen. his hands shook terribly, and her cries only grew louder as their parents began banging at the splintering door, but in the end, he'd managed to shield her from the worst of their wrath.

he remembers the stares from the other foster kids as he was dragged to the front door and thrown to the ground; some frightened, some smug, some indifferent. it was colder that night than it was last time, but he curled up in his usual spot in the alleyway and leeched off of luna's heat.

and then-

his fingers traced the outline of bandaids scattered across his jaw. the memories crashed over him.

i don't intend to let you return to your current foster home.

a violent sob ripped through his chest, sending flares of pain into his throat. he collapsed forward, clawing at his chest. it felt like someone was squeezing his lungs, his whole chest, and his breaths hiccuped and shuddered, but he was breathing and that meant he wasn't dead.

last night wasn't a dream. someone saved him. eraserhead saved him. he was in a blue room–his room–with soft blankets and fluffy pillows and things he could own. his clothes were loose and clean and didn't chafe against his skin, and the smell of lavender still permeated his skin from the bath the night before. and he was so warm, and eraserhead was talking to him in a low rumbling voice, telling him to breathe, telling him that it was okay, that he was safe. from outside he could hear music, and a mellow, crooning voice singing along with the radio.

he pressed his forehead to the floorboards and cried.

"hitoshi, you're not breathing. can i touch you?"

one knock for yes. he lifted his heavy head and let it fall back to the floor with a thud, ignoring the sharp inhale from eraserhead.

aizawa gently guided him up and forward, until he was curled against his chest, face pressed against his shoulder. his heart beat quickly beneath his chest, but his chest expanded with slow, measured breaths.

"breathe in for four and out for four, okay hitoshi? you're gonna be okay."

in in inhale inhal exhale ex exhale exhale inhale exhale inhale exhale in inhale exhale exhale inhale exhale in for four out for four in for four out for four one two three four one two three four one two three four-

he blinked his eyes open and immediately cringed. his face was covered in dried tears and snot, and he'd left a dark spot on eraserhead's sweater. his hands still shook when he tried to rub at his crusty eyes.

"hey there kiddo," eraserhead said, rubbing firmly at hitoshi's shoulders.

he looked different in the daytime. his eyes were soft, and pinched at the corners with sadness? concern? he wasn't sure, but it didn't feel bad. he wasn't wearing his hero costume anymore, just a black sweater and bright pink sweatpants. he looked tired, but kind. hitoshi doesn't know the last person he met who was kind.

sorry, he signed.

aizawa frowned. "there's nothing to be sorry for. i know it must have been scary, waking up in an unfamiliar place."

hitoshi hesitated before signing, not a dream. happy.

something shifted in aizawa's eyes, and he reached a hand up to ruffle hitoshi's messy hair. "i'm happy too."

after that, eraserhead let him clean himself up in the bathroom, and told him to come to the kitchen for breakfast once he was done. exhaustion had settled heavy in his bones, and it showed on his face. his eyes were red and puffy, with dark bags underneath them and his cheeks were pale and clammy. he rinsed the crust off his face with warmwarm water, and sighed at the dull pressure of a headache building behind his eyes.

he wondered if eraserhead would let him have painkillers. his old foster parents only let him take medicine as a last resort, but eraserhead wasn't like his old foster parents.

sunlight spilled through the blinds in the living room, coloring everything a gentle shade of yellow. a fluffy grey cat lounged in the sunspots, tail lazily flicking from side to side. when he stepped quietly out of the room–his room–luna came to rub against his legs, purring happily. something in his chest settled.

scooping her into his arms, he headed to the kitchen. aizawa was sitting at the table, gulping down a cup of coffee, and gave him a small smile when he approached. present mic was cooking rolled omelets, humming and swaying his hips to the indie song on the radio. he smiled brightly when he caught sight of hitoshi, and reached to turn down the radio's volume.

"hey, hitoshi. i heard you had a rough morning."

he glanced at aizawa, who was pointedly staring into his mug.

he nodded.

"i'm sorry about that. are you feeling okay now?" hizashi asked, moving closer to him.

it was hard to believe that he was present mic. he looked normal, and relaxed, and his voice wasn't loud at all. it was quite gentle. he didn't look nearly as garish and dramatic as his hero persona; his hair fell around his shoulders in loose strands, and he wore dark blue glasses and orange hearing aids. an old t-shirt hung from his shoulders and his pajama pants hat cats on them. he had kind eyes too.

mostly. head hurts. and throat. he signed, staring down at his fingers.

"yeah, you're probably pretty dehydrated. i'll get you some water and painkillers. do you want ice or no ice?"

ice. hitoshi signed slowly, confused.

"coolio! and the food's almost ready if you're hungry. even if you're not you should try to eat something, but if you really can't we'll figure something else out."

hizashi smiled and sauntered back to the kitchen. hitoshi sat at the table, and luna curled up in his lap. she was soft, and her purrs vibrated through his legs. hitoshi slowly felt himself relax. with luna's weight on his lap and the only noise being the soft scratch of aizawa's pen on paper and hizashi puttering about in the kitchen, he finally felt at ease.

his headache eased faster than it ever had, and breakfast was nice. he couldn't eat much with his stomach still churning, but he watched hizashi and aizawa trade easy conversation between bites of food. he could tell that they loved each other, could tell in the teasing arguments and fond smiles and laughter, could tell by their house, so full of warmth and love and safety.

after breakfast, hitoshi was at a loss for what to do. at his old foster house, he'd usually hope his foster parents were in a good mood and let him out of the house without a fight. there was a run down manga library down the street that let him stay for a few hours, even without paying for anything. otherwise he'd reread a book he'd read a thousand times before or play with the janky rubix cube he'd stolen when he was seven. he didn't do much for fun, and in this new environment he wasn't sure what was allowed.

when hizashi returned to the table after washing the dishes and saw him still sitting there, he seemed to recognize the predicament he was in.

"you wanna watch some tv?" he smiled, gesturing to the living room.

he tilted his head. i'm  A-L-L-O-W-E-D?

hizashi's smile twitched. "of course you're allowed! if there's anything you want to do, you're most likely allowed to, but feel free to ask if you're not sure."

hitoshi nodded, following him to the couch.

"so...what do you want to watch?"

his lips twisted to the side. don't know.

"that's alright! do you know at genre of shows you like?"

no. hitoshi signed, and immediately regretted it when hizashi's face crumpled a little. you're messing it up why are you messing it up just act normal-

"okay, so how about i show you some of my favorite shows and we can figure out what you like?" his face brightened again instantly, like the sun emerging from behind the clouds.

yes, he signed, watching hizashi excitedly navigate to a show called avatar:the last airbender.

hitoshi settled into the sofa cushions as hizashi played episode one. they were incredibly soft and smelled faintly of fabric softener and something he couldn't pinpoint.

they were about halfway through the episode when a buzz started beneath hitoshi's skin. he picked at his bandaids to ease it a little, but it only got stronger, and he switched to cycling through the sign language alphabet instead. hizashi's eyes caught on his hands, and he frowned a little. he's looking at you he thinks you're weird why can't you just sit still and watch why are you so dumb he's frowning why is he-

"you good, kid?" he asked. "we can change the show if you want, or do something else entirely, whatever you want."

no, hitoshi signed, a little too fast. like it. like S-H-O-W. just...

he didn't know how to say his bones were buzzing and if he didn't do something to fix it they'd buzz right out of his skin. that would be weird.

"restless?"hizashi guessed.

hitoshi nodded, digging his nail into the edge of his finger.

"that happens to me sometimes too. i have something that might help, i'll be right back."

hizashi bounded off towards his bedroom, and returned soon after with a colorful box in his hands. it jingled as he walked.

he set it down on the coffee table and popped open the lid. inside were what looked like toys. most of them were unfamiliar, but he spotted a rubix cube in the corner, although it was less beat up than his own. he wondered if the slide would be smoother, and if the cubes would pop off if he moved it too fast.

"these are fidget toys," hizashi explained excitedly, sitting back down. "they help me a lot when i'm restless or understimulated."

he smiled and reached for a colorful cube with an array of buttons and switches on it. hitoshi stared into the box, a little overwhelmed by the amount of things. he glanced at hizashi, who was fiddling with the toy while continuing to watch the tv show.

he pondered for a moment, looking through the various toys, and eventually decided to start with something that looked tamer, a small purple ball with rubber bristles covering it, giving the expression of spikes. he picked it up gently, and rolled it across his hands.

and it was...nice.

the bristles were cool against his skin, flicking back and forth as it moved, and sending a soft vibration through his hands. he held it to his ear and listened to the sound it created. the feeling in his bones was dying down into a dull hum. after a few minutes, hizashi placed the cube back into the box and fished out ____. following him, hitoshi traded his for a rectangular toy made of smaller cubes linked together. the cubes folded, over and over again, forming different shapes and returning infinitely. they made a satisfying clack clack clack noise against each other.

hizashi laughed at a line from the tv, and aizawa smiled fondly at him from where he was grading papers at the table. the sunlight streamed in from the windows, and luna came to rest against his side, and everything was warmwarmwarmwarm-

for once since the morning started, his mind was quiet.