A/N: schedule's been hectic, sorry I'm late! Here's Tuesday's schedule. Double upload simply because I don't celebrate genocidal holidays and have the extra time to write but I hope you're all having a lovely day nonetheless! ❤️

Hitoshi laughs.

It's a nervous tick that he has when he's close to falling apart that's supposed to keep him from breaking into a fit of tears but even so, he feels them stinging at the corners of his eyes. Emi looks as if she's about to right piss herself and if the way Eri backs away to curl against Toshinori's leg is of any indication, it's within perfectly good reasoning. 

Had his ears deceived him somehow? 

Surely his father isn't being serious. 

"Is this a joke? It's not a very funny one." The amusement in his tone is strained, tight and painful---as if it hurts to speak. Why won't Hizashi look at him? Why won't he answer him? 

Emi yells out a startled cry as Hitoshi abruptly hoists his father up from his seat and onto his feet by the fabric of his shirt, nervous smile morphing into an angry snarl. "You fuckin' hear me talking to you!" 

"I-I never wanted to hurt any of y---"

Hitoshi rears back to headbutt his father but he refuses to let the blonde crumple to the ground like the right garbage that he is---not without striking him square against his chin. 

"Fuck off with you, you piece of fucking shit ! How fuckin' dare you---how dare you make his life miserable because of what you did?!" He screams, chest heaving as his father tries to drag himself up from the ground again. It's escalating incredibly fast and as much as Toshinori wants to break it up, this much is completely out of his hands. 

Besides...if he's honest, he thinks that Hizashi definitely earned that one.

He turns on Emi so quickly that it nearly gives him whiplash. 

"If I were a lesser alpha, you'd be right on your ass with him. You hear me, you heartless fucking whore ?!" 

"T-Toshi---" 

"Fuck you! How could you do this to your own brother?! How much of a fake, two-timing, backstabbing slut do you have to be to have fucked his husband behind his back, had a fucking baby by him, and still keep a straight face when he comes to confide in you about his marriage?! You let him sleep under the same roof as you when you've been lying to him for twenty-five years. " 

She snaps her mouth shut and it somehow only serves to piss him off even more. 

"Does Nejire know?" 

She shakes her head. 

"Good. At least one of our lives won't be ruined by you." He growls, hands trembling with the insatiable urge to hit her. The more he looks at her, the more livid he becomes. 

"Get the fuck out. Take him with you." 

Hizashi shakes his head in denial, steadying himself on the coffee table as his free hand raises in an attempt to wipe the blood from his lip. It does little more than smear it across his jaw. "You want me to leave? What do you think your mother is gonna say?" 

"Considering that I'm going to tell him everything you've done, he'll probably agree that it's best for you to stay the fuck away. For your sake, because if I see you near my mother anytime soon, you're dead. " 

"Hitoshi, I'm still your father---" 

"And you're his husband but you didn't quite fit the bill for that job either, now did you, Hizashi?" The audacity of this man---to have made his mother leave his own home and sleep under the same roof as the woman who betrayed him just to make Hizashi feel less guilty about what he's done. How could you do that to someone that you claim to love so dearly? Shota didn't deserve this. Eri definitely doesn't deserve it. 

He can only imagine the pain this is going to cause Nejire. 

They're just standing there, watching him. 

"I said get the fuck out!!!" 

"Hizashi." Toshinori finally steps in, if only to de-escalate the situation for Hitoshi and Eri's sake. The youngest alpha is becoming more volatile every passing second. "It's best you grab a few things and leave. Maybe stay at a hotel for a while. While I agree with Hitoshi that what you two have done is unacceptable and that you deserve each other, I think you both have ruined enough lives for the evening. No need to include your daughter into this mess." He pauses, opening his coat to flash his badge. 

"I'm speaking as an officer and not a friend. Please leave or there will be consequences." 

Emi doesn't seem to be interested in sticking around, leaving without much else to say other than another whispered apology that only serves to earn a feral growl from Hitoshi. Hizashi, however, seems to feel the need to drag his feet in packing a bag and getting the hell out. He lingers at the door, downcast gaze flickering up to meet Eri's tear stained cheeks. He wants to say something---anything to apologize and try to comfort his youngest pup but nothing comes. He simply turns and leaves, eyes glued to his feet as not to give into the urge to turn back. 

He seems remorseful. 

But remorseful just isn't going to cut it here. 

Hitoshi heaves out a heavy, solemn sigh that he's been holding in, collapsing onto the sofa in exhaustion. He covers his eyes with the palms of his hands. 

He's crying, Toshinori pieces together. 

He feels his own heart shattering, a different sort of resentment for Hizashi curling within his chest as he watches Hitoshi simply fall apart at the seams. No child should ever have this sort of responsibility weighing on his shoulders. 

He'll have Shota come home tomorrow morning but until then, he wouldn't feel right about leaving these kids here alone. 

"I'm sorry this is something you've had to experience. I know you're incredibly stressed so...if you'd like, you're welcome to come back to my place. The living room is free for the night. You'd be able to relax." He offers, choosing his words carefully as not to unintentionally set him off. Hitoshi huffs out a cynical laugh. 

"I cracked your kid right between the eyes less than twenty-four hours ago. I think I'll pass." He declines, wiping his face with a sniffle before he manages to lift his head and face Toshinori again. "But thanks anyway. I think Eri and I are gonna spend the night at Fumi's. I can't stand to sleep in this house tonight." Toshinori nods. He won't try to force or convince him further. At this point he's fairly confident that Hitoshi knows what's best. 

"Can you make sure my mom doesn't go back to Emi's?" 

"I'll have him come right home when he leaves the station and call you when he makes it in. He didn't have any intentions on leaving the precinct tonight so it should be fine. And don't worry, I won't tell him anything that's happened here tonight---it's not my place. As far as he's concerned, I was never here." 

"Thank you. God, I'm fuckin' exhausted. I'd much rather have been told that I was adopted than deal with this shit. At least my life being a lie would be less significant that way." 

Toshinori wants to hug him so badly.

"I know that this is the last thing that you want to hear...but it gets better, my boy. Either your mom and dad will work things out and you can start to gain some sort of normalcy back in your lives...or your mother will decide that he deserves better and try to move on. I'm not saying that it will be easy. I'm most certainly not insinuating that it will happen overnight. But it will get better." 

"I hope to hell he doesn't take that piece of shit back. Hizashi doesn't deserve to have this shit worked out. He needs to take responsibility for his shit." 

"I...well, I understand. But matters of the heart are rather difficult. I've no doubt that Shota will know what's best for him and for you kids." 

"You're seriously taking up for my dad?"

Toshinori bristles at that. "Of course not. Not only is what he did incredibly shitty but he got me involved in his mess. But I don't believe in making those sorts of decisions for others. Shota knows your father much better than you and I---has seen him in ways that I don't believe we ever will. Best to leave his love life up to him." 

There's a stretch of silence between them, Hitoshi marinating in the wisdom that Toshinori has just offered. He stands from the sofa a moment later, not the slightest bit less annoyed but still relieved that he can finally have a moment of reprieve. 

"Maybe." 

"I'm going to wait here while you gather yours and Eri's things. Make sure he doesn't double back and spark up anymore trouble for you. Is that alright?" 

Hitoshi sighs once more, tugging his fingers through his hair. 

"Knock yourself out. I'll make it quick." 

"Nonsense, take your time." 

Hitoshi plucks Eri up from the floor to carry her upstairs, finally calm enough to verbally check in on her and try to reassure her. Toshinori sits down to wait, fingers tapping away at the coffee as he tries to take a moment and comprehend how absolutely hectic his life has been as of late. 

Not just his life, but the lives of many of his friends, co-workers and neighbors. 

Finding Katsuki in the attic of Tomura's home was like releasing some sort of catalyst into Hokkaido. Toshinori is unsure if it's because of how many people were involved or because their town is such a small one but the blonde has definitely served to shake things up in both the best and worst of ways---sometimes without ever even having direct involvement in them. Everyone's skeletons are walking right out of their closets. 

He supposes he should thank him for that. Though, he sincerely doubts that Katsuki would comprehend what it is that he means. 

#

Shota has been able to come up with very little in his general search of Chisaki Kai. General addresses are easy to come by as the files are easily accessible to the public but he owns several dozen properties in this city alone so trying to serve him papers on assumptions would be an even more ridiculous idea when they'd most likely have to split up and find out where he lived. 

Making the assumption that he actually lived in any of those properties. 

Safe to say that all of his overtime amounted to...well, amounted to nothing. 

He'd wanted nothing more but to go home and get a nap---he didn't want to waste more time than he'd found necessary when they were so close to ending all of this---but he didn't quite want to deal with Hizashi at the moment when he was already so stressed out. 

He needed a drink. 

Usually he'd run down to the tavern but at the risk of running into Chisaki again, he'd decided against it. After all he's gone through, the least these people could do was leave him to drink in peace. 

It's a bit out of the way but he knows of another bar somewhere on the high end of town. Mostly where the more snooty bastards go to hang out. It's not his speed; he's more comfortable being able to go out for a drink without getting stares for looking like a homeless garbage gremlin who hasn't slept in eight years but he'd much rather deal with stares than risk being felt up by Chisaki again. 

He's happy to see that it's pretty much empty upon arrival---a few stragglers here and there and a few folks who seem to be down on their luck. There's some guy playing live music from a piano on stage, dim lighting setting the atmosphere for something that reminds Shota of those fancy dinner parties he's had to attend with Kayama and Thirteen. 

He never wants to wear a dress again. 

The barkeep is a beta female that seems to be in either her late twenties or early thirties. She offers him a friendly smile but doesn't say much else as she slides him a drink menu. He's thankful that she's not incredibly chatty like the folks at the tavern; she seems to understand that he's not too interested in a casual conversation at one in the morning. 

"You got bourbon, sweetheart?" 

"I do." 

"Give it to me straight, please." 

"Sure thing, love." 

A pleasant lull falls between them as she slides the glass into his hand. He offers her a thanks with a nod. A rather pleasant experience so far. He thinks he may have pegged this place incorrectly at first. Pretentious assholes aside, the customer service is immaculate. 

A bar stool a couple of seats down to his left slides out but Shota doesn't look up, not wanting to make things awkward as whoever has taken the seat is having quite a bit of a struggle with climbing up. He does see the barkeep pause in wiping the counter with a somber pinch of her brows. 

"Oh...sweetheart---" 

"Not now, Ryuko. Please." 

The barkeep, Ryuko, sighs but doesn't say much else. 

"Alright. Your usual?" 

"Please." 

"Whatever you need, love." 

She gets to work on another drink---presumably for her new patron---but curiosity gets the better of Shota and he turns his head to get a look at who's sitting next to him. 

His eyes widen when he sees him---a brown-haired omega who's bruised and banged up pretty roughly from his arms up to his brow bone. Shota could be wrong, but he assumes he's hiding more bruises beneath his clothes. It doesn't look like an accident or a fight and if Ryuko's reaction was anything to go by, he comes here often looking just as he does now. 

He sighs and plucks his glasses from his nose, setting them down on the counter to massage the bridge of his nose before he notices that he's being watched. He turns his gaze away, eyes glued to the table. 

"It's rather rude to stare at others." He mumbles and Shota finally blinks and looks away, downing his bourbon and politely taking a refill from Ryuko when she passes by. "Sorry. You just...seem like you need help, is all." 

"And you can help me?" 

"I'm a police officer; I'd like to think I'm capable at helping most people in your situation." 

This doesn't seem to encourage him, as he merely snorts at Shota and takes his drink. 

"I happen to have a friend who's an officer. He can't really help me unless I'm pressing charges." 

"And you won't?" 

A silence. The omega doesn't open his mouth to speak again. Shota should take that as his cue to leave the poor thing be but he can't quite find it in himself to just ignore him when he's obviously in pain. 

"What's your name?" He asks and the brunette pauses to stare into his half empty glass. 

"Bakugou. Masaru Bakugou." 

Bakugou? 

"I'm Shota Aizawa-Yamada." He introduces himself and Masaru hums a non-committal response. Shota senses that he's going to be rather difficult but he's dealt with difficult people before. It doesn't make them less of a victim and it damn sure doesn't mean that they don't need him simply because they're difficult. 

They're difficult because they're scared. 

"Your friend. Is his name Yagi?" 

This catches Masaru's attention, brows knit together as he watches Shota carefully. Shota manages a smile, if only just to reassure him. 

"He's my friend as well. And, as it happens, he's also my partner. I'm the other officer assigned to help your son. Sorry that we haven't met until now. And I'm sorry that it had to be under these circumstances." 

Masaru sighs a bit heavier, head falling between his shoulders as Shota's smile falls. 

"I suppose I'm not making your jobs any easier." 

"It's not any fault of yours. We don't have to talk about that. I just want to help you." He reiterates, standing from his stool. "Will you at least let me treat your wounds? I won't force you but I know you're in a lot of pain." 

Masaru considers him. 

"Can I still drink? To be honest, I've had a fairly rough night and I really need this." 

Shota's smile broadens. 

"Sure. I've got plenty at mine." 

"You're not going to try and hold me hostage?" 

Shota raises a curious brow at that but Masaru shakes his head. 

"Nevermind." He says, sliding down from the stool only for his legs to give out from beneath him. Shota quickly reaches out to catch him, arm around Masaru's waist to steady him. Shota unintentionally gets a nose full of Masaru's scent gland and it nearly sends him to his knees. 

He smells so good. 

He swallows thickly, quickly composing himself to help Masaru right himself on his feet. 

"A-Are you alright?" 

"Yes, sorry. My legs hurts a bit; I took a tumble down the stairs." 

Shota commits that to memory. 

He's got several bones to pick with Mitsuki Bakugou.