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A lot of people ask Present Mic the same question. Asked him before the title Present Mic was anything more than a dream of what he might be.

Him the gawky clumsy over excitable hero in training who’s only real skill was an encyclopedia of knowledge on famous songs from the 60’s.

A young U.A student full of dreams and energy being cornered during his license exam by eager faces and hushed voices.

Always the same question.

“How did you get the anti-social kid to hang out with you?” Hizashi doesn’t remember who asked him the first time. Just that he had been surprised.

Remembers leaning away from excited faces and asking.
“Which kid is that?”

There overexcited hands blatantly point out a quiet boy with long black hair leaning against the wall, strands of his hair fall in front of his face like a curtain.

“Aizawa is anti-social?”

The room of students glare at him. And Hizashi pulls on his sunglasses to try and hide his face.

“That kid made anti-social. He’s like a goth who doesn’t care enough to dress like one.”

Another student with cascading rainbow hair nods “He is pretty goth.”

Hizashi fiddles with his glasses again, he doesn’t believe them. But he doesn’t like to argue, arguing leads to raised voices and shattered windows, bleeding ears and broken expressions.

But he can’t agree with them either, if anything Aizawa has always been pleasant and willing to talk. A little quiet sometimes. But present, intense eyes tracking your hands or your face.

And a sharp tongue that didn’t mind cutting in with observations that makes Hizashi’s skin crawl.

But in a good way.

Really, Hizashi has been so starstruck with him he hadn’t managed to say anything at all to him. But Aizawa had reached out to him, wanted to know about his music and his interests.

Aizawa had taken the lead Hizashi had just followed.

“I never got an anti-societal type vibe off of him.” The others press in and Hizashi is forced to lean back into the wall.

Nowhere to run.

“He’s just another hopeful future hero. I mean like the rest of us?”

The rainbow haired girl rolls her eyes again. “Of course he is. We never said he wasn’t.”

“It’s just.”

“How did you make him like you?”

“Yeah, you totally sit next to him without him bursting you into flames.” Chiro pipes up.
“Some of us could get jealous.”

Hizashi chuckles nervously again, “It’s easy, his quirk doesn’t involve fire.”

Only one kid snorts into his hand his laugh echoing off the walls strangely and forcing Aizawa to finally glance up from his book with a curious head tilt. The rest of the group gives a collective roll of unimpressed eyebrows.

“How did you get him to like you?”

‘Nothing,’ he thinks ‘all I did was think at him really hard and foster a frankly unhealthy crush on the side of his face I could sneak peeks at without getting caught until he talked to me.’
So really mostly nothing.

He coughs into his hand
“Basically nothing. I guess I was just friendly.”

The bell for the exam is a faint humming noise and the entire class glances up at the ceiling. The conversation is stalled for now, the students file out in single file Aizawa as always silently slips next to him.
“What were you guys talking about?”

‘Just you’, he thinks, “Nothing really,” he says. Hizashi adjusts his speakers, an awkward weight on his shoulders but the support teams told him it would probably be more effective than his previous design.

“It didn’t look like nothing.” Aizawa counters.

Hizashi schools his face into something blank and slightly amused, he’s an expert at that and the sound of the door opening in front of them and the shuffling students overpowers the sound of his beating heart.
“Why do you care so much? Jeez what are you my mom?”

Aizawa frowns displeased his long fingers pull on his capture scarf “Im not your mom, but it just, it looked like they were bothering you,” Aizawa mumbles “I can talk to them if you want?”

If he didn’t already have a crush he probably would have tripped over his own feet and slammed his face into the ground. But he’s used to the sudden catch of breath he makes and instead of a disaster he just looks stupid and awkward as he nearly trips on the person in front of him instead.

“Your so sweeeeeeeet Aizawa .”

The shorter teen rolls his eyes and pulls just slightly ahead of him the conversation forgotten as they take there turn walking out of the lockers. The blinding light of the arena calls to Hizashi the same way a stage calls for a singer.

Aizawa reaches back and grabs the edge of his sleeve, he pulls them both forward and Hizashi follows.
Only half of them walk away that day with a license exam.
Hizashi clutches his exam in sweaty fingers. His hair is half singed and his throat is sore, the voice box meant to modulate his attacks blown to pieces.

Aizawa walks in step next to him, his only injury the small bandaid on his cheek. Which really wasn’t fair.

But Hizashi doesn’t care about fair or good.
They had done it.

“Can you believe it Aizawa.”


“We’re finally heroes, the next generation of crusaders.”

Aizawa makes another low humming noise but he gently bumps Hizashi as they walk slowly back into town. So he knows he’s secretly just as excited.

“We’re gonna be champions, legends.”


There’s an energy vibrating in him, like the way his voice makes his chest echo.

“Don’t you get it Aizawa the next time something happens we’re the ones going out there.”

He spreads his hand and tries to take in the whole city in front of them. Rising towers in the distance.

Aizawa straightens up, his voice gets a little deeper.
“I get it.”

The intensity in his gaze makes Hizashi uncomfortable, that happens sometimes, he would say something or do something and then Aizawa would stare at him. And his sunglasses and his plans.

“Not a game Hizashi.”
He had said once in a low rumble, his voice scratchy from sleep.

And there wasn’t anything to say back to that really.

Not anything to say now as Aizawa stares off intently into the sun. Hizashi just runs his hands through his hair and grimaces when he feels the way most of it is has been burned.

“I’m going to need a haircut.” He concludes sadly.

Aizawa only half turns towards him, “I like your hair.”

“Liked,” Hizashi corrects immediately “it got burned off there’s hardly any hair there.”

Aizawa’s hands look smaller than his but they feel larger when they brush along the top of his head.

“Like.” He states firmly, “Its cute like this.”

The blush threatens to climb all the way from the bottom of his collar to his almost bald head. “Ahh, hah, if you want I can just shave it all off.”

Shota smiles, “Your funny,” his smile is different than his usual ones, it was more, well it was more than his usual smiles. More crooked more soft more amused more of that little smudge on the edge of his mouth that lets Hizashi know that he might get a big mushy smile that somehow means more and less than all these small secret crooked ones.

But it’s too much to really look at. And he firmly refocuses on the view ahead of them, of the sun eclipsing out of the sky behind skyscrapers.

It takes a moment for his brain to catch up with the conversation, on anything other than Shota right there next to him.
“I’m a real riot.”

“I thought you were Present Mic.”

Hizashi screams as loud as his voice will let him and Shota doesn’t pull away even though he does wince.

“Was that a joke! Did you finally tell a joke!” He screeches

Shota glares at him from under his tangled hair, and he enunciates every word slowly and clearly, “No one, will ever believe you.”

Which was true, but it was hard to care considering that Shota apparently made really dry jokes that were kinda awesome.

Aizawa wants to go get noodles, like most things Hizashi nods so fast he gives himself a headache, and when Aizawa turns away he’s right behind him.

The conversation about why Aizawa seems to like him most is mostly forgotten in the overwhelming sea of
‘Oh lord help me this boy makes my heart beat faster than is probably medically safe.’

But in less than a week the conversation comes up again, he did get a haircut which surprise wasn’t as terrible as he thought it would be. But seeing as short hair means he can’t spy on Aizawa and then use his hair to hide where his eyes are going Hizashi resolves to make his hair as long as possible, as soon as possible he’s missing prime staring time.
He also buys a darker tinted pair of sunglasses.

And he is totally using them to spy on Aizawa who is standing adorably in the lunch line when a tray slams down in front of him.

“Seriously though, I don’t even think I’ve heard the kid speak to me.” Chiro tells him, “Maybe you should like share your secrets with the world.”

“What?” He doesn’t screech like a girl when he’s surprised.

“Aizawa, the friend you somehow charmed into being,” Chiro pauses as if he doesn’t know what he’s going to say. “Human-ish.”

Hizashi huffs in annoyance and his foot taps impatiently on the ground, “Maybe you should go talk to him.”

“Why would he want to talk to me,” Chiro gives another long sigh, it sounds real but he didn’t become the class president with an honest campaign. “Your so much cooler than me.”

His voice is pitched to be sad but not whining. If Hizashi didn’t know he wanted to be a hero for acting endorsements he would have felt something more than a twinge of annoyance.
“Go talk to him yourself.”

Another long sigh, “It’s too embarrassing, I’m sure it would go over easier if you helped me do it.”

His chair makes a creaky sound when he leans back in it, “What do you want from Aizawa?”

Chiro’s eyes are wide and innocent. “Want? I don’t want anything, just to be friends.” There’s a moment where he considers it, a moment where Hizashi wonders if maybe he’s being overly protective.
But then Chiro gives another long perfectly timed sigh and Hizashi nearly bends his spoon in half.

“If you want to be his friend talk to him yourself.”

“Talk to who?”

Hizashi doesn’t screech like a girl.
But Aizawa is suddenly hovering over his shoulder.

“No one.” Chiro responds.

Aizawa squints at him as if he can’t decide if he wants to treat him like a suspect.
Chiro glances between the two of them and something in his expression shifts, “Well I actually should probably eat with the other members of the drama club! We’re doing hamlet for the festival this year!”
They both groan as the other boy bounds away with false energy,
“I hate hamlet!” Hizashi groans.

Aizawa mumbles in agreement, and they both slump over there lunch.

“You shouldn’t let him beat you up like that.” A sly voice calls out,
Hizashi lifts his head from the table with a groan. Aizawa only rolls his head on the table just enough to let him know he’s listening.

The speaker is a student, from the same year as them but wearing large trimmed glasses. “People like him only respond to a foot in the face.” She tells them firmly.

Hizashi can tell Aizawa likes her by the tilt of his head, and even through the flair of irrational jealousy he kind of likes her too.

“Who are you?”

Her slim fingers hold up a hero provisional license and her voice is a slick purr that puts his hair on end
“Soon to be the one and only famous Midnight.”

Aizawa snorts, and Hizashi laughs delighted like air.

The squeak of chairs as she moves to the spot across from them is final. “I’m in the B Class,” she tells them, “but I’m going to be number one.”

Hizashi smiles, “I’m going to be number one.”

Aizawa finally lifts his head from the table his messy hair sticks to his face at unattractive angles.
“I don’t want number one.”

Her surprised laughter sounds more genuine than anything else she’s done, and it only gets louder when Hizashi attempts to tame his friends hair.

“We should be friends.” She decides loudly.

Hizashi checks with Aizawa by a quick glance of his head, there’s a moment of silence and then Aizawa makes a decision, as always Hizashi follows.

She sets her tray down next to them. And honestly, Hizashi thought that would be the end of her and her big hair, the occasional greeting in the hallway and sometimes eating lunch together.

But she attaches herself to there side with surprising ease, and suddenly there duo is a trio.

Nemuri her name was, and she was as much fun as she was vague sexual innuendo.

Sometimes Hizashi wonders why he likes her. Mostly when she’s talking to Aizawa, spending time with Aizawa, in the general area of Aizawa.

Hizashi is only barely mature enough to acknowledge there is a theme, and then of course when she hangs out with him. When she’s leaning in to say “Aizawa has such a pretty mouth.” With a bold wink that has Aizawa huffing in an annoyed breath as his cheeks color.

In those moments he knows exactly why he likes her.

And a month later when there stumbling down the side of a cliff there hero clothes completely ruined and torn to pieces.
Aizawa grimly straight faced and Nemuri laughing her ass off. Hizashi thinks there going to be friends forever.

But then Nemuri asks the same stupid question his class does. “He treats you so differently.” She had whined in his ear, becuase she couldn’t do anything if it didn’t look vaguely sexual.

“He treats me the way he treats anyone else.” Hizashi subtly tries to pull away from her arms but she just pulls him closer.

She doesn’t lick his ear but it feels like she almost does “No your definitely his favorite, mind sharing how you pulled that off.”

Hizashi balks and her delighted laughter when he struggles to get away again is kind of frustrating.
Because she’s taller than him without heels which is both frustrating and a good reminder that he may want to pull his pumps out of storage.

And secondly because he was really trying to shake her and she was expertly keeping him pinned in place with a pair of manicured hands.
Was everybody better than him at close combat.

“What are you two doing?”

Hizashi glances to see a semi amused mostly upset Aizawa.

“Uhhh, nothing.”

Nemuri laughs Into the air’ “If I pin Hizashi down can I become your new favorite friend.”

Aizawa stares at the both of them blankly, “your both hopeless.”

This time Hizashi balks at Aizawa and between him and Nemuri they don’t give Aizawa a moments peace until he admits that he likes them.

But this time the question sits with him. He stops watching Aizawa and starts watching everyone else who watches Aizawa.

And apparently, everyone else was sorta right.

Although he hates admitting anything that makes Chiro look right. But even though Aizawa is totally cool and awesome he pisses off half there class simply by existing, he’s vague and he doesn’t talk much although once during a study session he had confessed in a half awake slur that he likes listening to Hizashi talk.

As awesome as that is it doesn’t actually help the rest of the class like him.

Aizawa once made Alana cry after destroying her in a training exercise and he wasn’t even a little bit sorry about it.

It was also incredibly cool and Hizashi had rushed to the gate fast enough to see the rare full face smile that Aizawa rarely ever made which had featured in his dreams on numerous occasions.

Aizawa was always maybe a little rude to his classmates, clipped to the point of extreme rudeness. Unless the classmate was Hizashi where his clipped exterior melted away into an easy relaxed teasing.

So maybe it wouldn’t be that easy to prove that Aizawa was blanket over all things awesome.

The idea that he might just be awesome and sociable with Hizashi is a dangerous line of thought, one he refuses to think about too much.

But then again he seems to like Nemuri well enough.

“Have you ever considered a hero suit that actually covers your body?” Aizawa tell her once. His lips quirked up in amusement, because he teases Nemuri. That’s something that happens and no matter how much it bothers Hizashi to see that half smile focused on someone else he swallows down the lump in his throat to throw out a “Oh Snap!” Nemuri and Aizawa don’t have the English to even translate what he said but Aizawa leans in closer to him so Hizashi is happy.

“Have you ever considered being a teacher?” Nemuri counters, it’s so out of left field that Hizashi blinks at her confused as Aizawa makes a choking sound.

Hizashi can’t tell who she’s talking about.

“Me?” His voice cracks like a bad high C note.

Nemuri shakes her head and her long hair which Hizashi knows for a fact she doesn’t treat with anywhere near the care he treats his own precious golden hair falls beautifully around her face.
“I meant Aizawa,” she clarifies but her eyes narrow at him too. “Although I can definitely see you in a classroom.” Her tone of voice implies that Hizashi is not in a learning classroom.

Aizawa laughs harsh and sudden and Hizashi thumps his back unhelpfully.

“What on gods earth makes you think I can be a teacher.” Aizawa finally says.

There’s a flicker of doubt in Nemuris eyes, “Well,” she starts, “you do a good job teaching Hizashi.”

Hizashi can feel his cheeks flush, and Aizawa pulls away from him as if only just now realizing he didn’t need to lean over his shoulder to tell him his geography was in a word ‘shit.’

Aizawa shrugs unconcerned even as he puts space between them. “Hizashi is a special case, I would rather die than teach a room full of brats.”

They all laugh on cue but when Aizawa leans forward Hizashi swallows the laugh down into his throat. He knows that look, Aizawa is about to drop a bomb of uncomfortable truth on there study session.

“A teacher can’t just be someone who’s present, a teacher needs to inspire. To make people want to be better. I might be able to teach a brat to fight, but,” he shrugs contemplatively. “I’m not All Might.”

Nemuri is staring at him in mild shock, “No one is.” She states. Aizawa gives her a look, a ‘why are you here then look.’ A ‘Why are you a hero look.’

Hizashi realizes with a soft startled kind of laugh that this is the first time she’s seen super serious and deep Aizawa.

When she shares a surprised glance with him and Hizashi just gives her a wordless shrug, because really the only cure to Aizawa’s bizarre serious moods was to get used to it.

Aizawa breaks the silence with a statement. “Hizashi could be a really good teacher.”

And he goes back to his school book body hunched over it as if he wants to make doubly sure that Hizashi can’t say anything back to that. And Nemuri makes a speculative breathing sound.

It would be really hard, to get over Aizawa.

And when they get up and head out of the library he gives a long slow wave when Aizawa splits off from there group to go home.

“So are you guys banging?”

Hizashi doesn’t trip and fall on his face. “What!”

Nemuri raises one unimpressed eyebrow, “Are. You. Banging.” She turns and gestures at Aizawa’s disappearing body, “That.”


Nemuri purses her lips, the distant sounds of beetles rings through the air. “But you want too.” She concludes.

Hizashi flaps his arms in a panic, “That’s hardly a sound metric! Everyone wants to do some kind of dirty with Aizawa.”

Another unimpressed eyebrow. “I’ve met him, trust me I’ll resist the urge.”

Hizashi bites his tongue,
Nemuri fiddles with her glasses.

“Do you want to... not bang him,” Nemuri asks, the way her normally smooth tongue trips over the word ‘not bang’ the way she’s staring just too left and too high to make eye contact.

She doesn’t mean nothing, he realizes, she’s asking if he likes Aizawa, if he wants early morning bickering and couch movie surfing every night and not just ‘banging.’

“Did you just make a relationship a dirty word.” He asks.

Nemuri shudders theatrically “More woman have been lost to marriage than war.” She bemoans.

Hizashi doesn’t say anything at all to that.

“I’m not getting involved,” she finally tells him, “whatever you two have, however you’ve convinced yourself that this is the way to deal with it.... I’m not getting involved.” Her voice is firm, and disappointed.

“There’s nothing to get involved in.”

Her silhouette is a perfect shadow “He compared you to AllMight.”
And her parting words sink into his soul. “Don’t be stupid Hizashi.”

Hizashi wishes he had dark long broody hair, that flies over his shoulder into the wind, instead his golden hair is barely shoulder length again after he nearly lost it all. He still does a dramatic turn and storm off, he really hopes the effect looked cool and not stupid.

From the way Nemuri laughs at his retreating back he probably looks stupid.

He spends the night blasting Queen on all his speakers and in the morning he blasts ABBA.

They both do an excellent job of setting and then shattering his mental mood.

He times his arrival to class to be just fast enough that no one can talk to him. Chiro sendng him a vaguely annoyed look when he slides in a moment before the bell rings. But the only one who really matters is Aizawa who fake coughs totally laughs into his hand when Hizashi collapses at his desk and points at his shoes.

“Wheelies to outrun my feelies.” He tells Aizawa.

The silent shake of Aizawa’s shoulders is worth the teacher’s annoyed sigh before roll call.

A few minutes into class though a firm tug on his sleeves has him turning towards Aizawa.
“Are you ok?” He asks, all broody dark haired eagerness.


“Your escaping your, ‘feelies’” Aizawa glances down at his shoes “What feelings are bothering you.”

His face is so earnest that everything almost spills out then and there, every embarrassing moment he had stolen glances at the side of his head.

Instead he does a loud fake laugh. “Me. Wrong... nothings wrong.”

“Did Nemuri say something mean to you?”


“If she did, you know I’d beat her up right?”
And he’s still so earnest, leaning forward that little bit as the droning voice of there teacher fades away. Earnest when he promises to assault people for Hizashi and he shouldn’t find that as charming as he does.

“I thought you liked her.”

“I do,” Aizawa stares forward with a sudden laser focus, “I just like you more.”

Hizashi stares for a moment at the sudden stubborn set of his jaw, he doesn’t like giving Hizashi a chance to say anything back.

He waits until he relaxes just a little bit before he whispers back, “I like you better too.”

Aizawa doesn’t turn to face him, but his whole body relaxes.
That’s silly, Hizashi thinks, how could Aizawa have expected any kind of answer other than that one.

How could Hizashi have expected anything other than this. How could Hizashi expect to stop being stuck on Aizawa, there was no other answer for him.

Chiro stops him on his way out the door. “Did you guys break up?”

Hizashi nearly jumps up surprised when the question registers. “What but, what.”

Chiro looks down at the ground a picture perfect bashful but determined look on his face.

“It’s just, I’ve noticed you’ve been hanging out with that 2-B chick and well. Today you came so late and whatever you were whispering about during class,” Chiro glares at him a little. “Well it seemed pretty important.”

Hizashi smiles a little bit, “No uh, thanks Chiro but we’re good.”

Chiro smile is soft, “Oh...” Hizashi starts to walk away slowly when Chiro calls out again.

“Does that mean I can’t take Aizawa on the rebound. The lazy prodigy thing he’s got going is hot as fuck.” Chiro announces.

“You can’t take him!” Hizashi screeches.

Chiro’s gives another perfectly placed sigh.
“Yeah because you already own him.”
Another long sigh.

Hizashi gives him the finger and races out the door as Chiro helpfully calls out that he needs to walk in the halls.

Hizashi really hates that guy.

And Aizawa, he’s the one who catches Hizashi’s arm and pulls him into him when the blonde nearly jets right past him. Aizawa saved a spot in line for him because
“It’s faster than waiting to see where you wanna sit.”

And Hizashi doesn’t bother suppressing his squeal of joy because there eating sushi and that’s delicious and also because Aizawa thought of him and the line. Saving a spot for someone in a lunch line has to mean something.

Exactly what Hizashi isn’t sure, but something.

Nemuri sits down next them her glasses firmly in place.
“Gentleman,” she glances between them but annoyingly she obviously spends more time looking at Aizawa. “Today we witness history.”

Aizawa glances around slowly, “Whats happening today?”

Her smile is sharp and there’s a sudden pain in Hziashi’s shin when she kicks him under the table, “Oh im sure someone will come forward about something.” She replies sweetly. “Something life changing, or romantic.” Another kick to his shin has him glaring at her.

Hizashi tries to kick her back but instead of her he hits the reinforced iron hiding under the tables and bites back a wince when his foot explodes.

Aizawa stares at them both his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “I’m missing something.” He announces.

When they both remain quiet he sniffs unimpressed “I’ll work it out eventually.”

Nemuri pats his hand “There’s a good boy.”

And Hizashi rubs his sore foot against the floor.

Nemuri knocks on the table when Aizawa collapses for his midday nap on the lunch table.
‘Make history.’ She mouths at him deliberately.

Aizawa’s hair is sticking unattractively to his forehead. His school uniform even though it’s freshly pressed somehow has creases all along the sides.

He’s apparently a dick to everyone but Hizashi. And he’s also kind of perfect.

So all Hizashi does is mouth back the words ‘I know.’


He knows.

On the way home from school Nemuri breaks off three turns before her house and Aizawa watches her go confused.

“I’m missing something,” he repeats, “I don’t like missing things.”

Hizashi smiles cheeky and to hide the fear and double beating of his heart. “That’s because your a control freak.”

The automatic eye roll he gets for the comment is reassuring. “I’m not a control freak, I let you control the radio every time we listen to music.”

“That’s because my music is the very best.” Hizashi counters.

“You never stay on a song longer than twenty seconds,” Aizawa reminds him, “I’m the most go with the flow person ever.”

“You are not,” and he isn’t sure why he stops because yes. The sun catches just so and Aizawa looks beautiful when it does. But he always looks like that and Hizashi doesn’t freeze.

He has a reputation for being a total klutz, but he never freezes.

Maybe it’s because this time he knows he’s going to say something. Anything.

This time he freezes and after a moment Aizawa does too. His face pulled in a mixture of confusion and concern.

“Are you alright?”
After a moment he says “I was kidding about the song thing I don’t mind when you keep changing them. I get more songs that way.”

Hizashi watches as Aizawa struggles for words “Bang for your buck.” He offers

Aizawa makes a face at the slang but nods, “Yeah that, it’s a good thing.”

“Your a good thing.” Hizashi counters, it’s not smart, but it’s all he can think to say. Because it’s true isn’t it. “Your the best thing.” He tells Aizawa firmly.

He gets a small smile the crummy crumbly edges smile.

And Hizashi can feel himself falling into the plunge.

“Go out with me.”

Aizawa stares at him.

“I mean your amazing, and cool, and funny, and I think your the best thing to happen since music. So please, go out with me.”

Hizashi never realized how clammy his hands were before, or that his pants are too tight for him to cram his hands into.

Or that when Aizawa was really truly surprised he takes a step back like he’s been punched, Hizashi knows that becuase he’s punched Aizawa very hard in the chest before.

Even when he’s falling down he’s pretty. And he knows the look in Aizawa’s eyes it’s his important face, his future face.

It’s like he can see it happening before his eyes, the painful let down the awkward conversations the doomed pep talk from Nemuri the real control freak out of the three of them.

Aizawa opens his mouth,

“I mean you don’t even have to do anything I promise I’ll win you over.”


“And I know we’re focusing on our future but it’s us I believe in us.”

“Me too.”

“And everyone thinks we should be.. well ok Nemuri thinks we should be but I have compelling evidence!”

An annoyed grunt, “That’s what I missed.”

“I just don’t want to spend any more time wondering if maybe I should say something.”


“And I just can’t keep doing this your so, your so beautiful sometimes Aizawa.”


“I needed to say how I felt.”


“I just needed you to know how i felt.”

A firm hand grabs his, “Ok.”


“I said,” Aizawa blows his hair out of the way, “I said ok. I’ll be your boyfriend.”

Here he pauses, “If you’ll be mine.”

Hizashi isn’t crying, he’s just tearing up becuase everything is perfect.

“Hizashi,” Aizawa starts to talk all earnest and holding Hizashi’s hand and he’s not crying he’s just more teary eyed.

A smattering of applause around them has Aizawa snapping his head around to take in the crowd of onlookers.

He grimaces before nearly pulling Hizashi’s arm out of its socket as he drags him away,
“Ow.” He complains but he’s smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.

When a grandma waves cheerfully at him with tears in her eyes he waves back and he’s still totally not crying.

Aizawa’s hand is warm on his arm. And wherever he goes Hizashi knows he’s going to follow

“So Nemuri knows.” Aizawa muses, later, later when they’ve found an alley that Aizawa is way too familiar with based on how quickly he finds a seat.

After he’s gently pulled on Hizashi’s hair because “I’ve been dying to do that.” Aizawa confesses, and after Hizashi laughs his heart out becuase he’s so happy it hurts.

Aizawa stares him down and asks,

Hizashi nods gamely “Yeah she knows,” and after some thought he adds. “And probably most of the class, and definitely Chiro.”

Aizawa slumps down over his trash can.

“Actually I think that some of them think we’ve been dating.” Hizashi confides.

Aizawa gives a low grumbling sound, “I suppose it makes thing easier in the long run.”


Aizawa grabs his hand again, “I don’t need to make any announcements if everyone already knows.” He says simply.

Hizashi squeals happily and Aizawa, he smiles, the full body all teeth smile that makes Hizashi a little weak in the knees.

When Aizawa pulls, Hizashi goes willingly.


Years later when Aizawa finally stops fighting Nemuri’s constant invasion of privacy and he gets his own little teaching desk that they immediately shove together.

“Super desk.” Hizashi crows,
Aizawa sighs amused and pulls on his hair.

After all that Hizashi tells Aizawa when there home again. “So your finally a teacher.”

“Don’t finally anything, I can still get fired.”

“Only if you expel your entire class,” at the speculative look Aizawa gets Hizashi immediately changes the conversation.

“Isn’t it funny,” he says, Aizawa hums you let him know he’s listening. “I thought I would be following you everywhere. But this time you followed me.”

Aizawa gives him a serious look, there’s a new set of scars under his collar that steal Hizashi’s attention for a moment. The smell of rice bubbling in there rice pot. In there apartment, that they live in.

And Aizawa says, “Figures you take me back to school.”

And Hizashi screeches so loud there cat takes off and Aizawa smiles open and serene.