Chapter Text
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A door slammed further down the hallway. Blinking away a hazy jumble of thoughts, Yamada Hizashi found himself outside his front door. He almost had to wonder how he got there, given the crowded mess of lesson plans, playlists, and patrol notes that filled his brain until two seconds ago. He looked down at the groceries in his hands and remembered that he’d gone to restock the meager offerings the kitchen had for the two pro heroes who lived in the apartment. Shaking his head, he dug his keys out of the pocket of the old leather jacket he was wearing and unlocked the door.
What followed was the juggling act that happened every time he or his roommate and best friend, Aizawa Shouta, brought home anything. First, he opened the door slowly. He used one foot to nudge back the curious face of one of the cats as it’s mewling alerted the other two that someone had come home. He edged inside, using the bags as a barrier to the door in order to keep the cats within the confines of the apartment, while simultaneously doing his best not to drop the bags. He closed the door as soon as he was through, just barely managing to keep the former strays indoors before he juggled the bags to lock the door behind him. Without setting down or dropping the bags, he did his best to not step on any tails or paws as the three creatures swarmed around his legs while removing his sneakers with only his feet and replacing them with his house slippers.
Hizashi looked up from the swarm around him, paused for just a moment, and saw Shouta. The other man was on the couch, hunched over a stack of papers that seemed way too tall. Considering he’d only just gone to bed a couple hours before Hizashi had left for the store, and he hadn’t really been gone that long…
“Hey Shouta! I’m home!” He tried to put some of his usual cheer into his voice, despite the frown spreading over his features. It came out sounding a little more strained than he intended. Oops.
“So I noticed. Do you need some help?” Shouta turned his head, looking over his shoulder at him with a hint of amusement in his features. Hizashi looked down to see one of the cats, a calico with a tattered ear named Shira, was reaching up to bat at the bottom of one of the bags. Meanwhile, the other two, a tuxedo named Misha and a long-haired tabby mix named Yumi, had decided to get into a play-fight… right around his feet.
“Gah! Maybe a bit…” Hizashi tried to dance away from the scuffle, barely managing not to topple over. Shouta’s chuckle rumbled across the room to him as the other man got to his feet. The two squabbling cats scattered at his approach, with Shira dropping back down on all fours to shoot an innocent look up at both men. He took the bags out of one of Hizashi’s hands, before moving towards the kitchen. Hizashi quickly followed behind Shouta.
“You should’ve let me know you were going out. I could’ve gone with you,” Shouta spoke over his shoulder as he set the bags down on the countertop, sounding almost disappointed. Hizashi’s brow furrowed at that, but he shrugged as he set down the bags he still held.
“It’s not a problem. You were still sleeping, or so I thought. How was patrol last night?” Being an underground hero meant that Shouta didn’t get home until the early hours of the morning, and his nights had a tendency to be rough. More than once, Hizashi had helped patch him up at home, or woken up to a call that summoned him to the hospital as Shouta’s emergency contact. Did he worry about Shouta in those moments? Of course, but they were pros. It was part of the life… or so he tried to tell himself. Every night that Shouta went out, he worried it would be the last night. Every call during those patrols made his heart stop for a moment. Every wound was a gash to his own heart. Yeah, he worried about him.
“Not too bad. Just the usual idiots who either hadn’t learned their lessons before or were new to the area,” As he spoke, Shouta grabbed some treats for the cats, giving each of the three a small handful of the dry treats to keep them distracted while the two humans put away the groceries. Hizashi smiled and shook his head at the little indulgence.
“Hasn’t been much activity from the cartels or the gangs recently, from what you’ve told me. Think they’re laying low, or have they moved on?” The more organized criminals were the ones that always gave the underground heroes the most trouble. Hizashi didn’t often deal with the cartels himself unless there was a task-force pulled together to achieve a major take-down, but gangs occasionally made moves during his own daytime patrols.
“No, not recently. I think there might be something building up, though. Something big if all of them have gone this quiet,” Shouta’s frown spoke volumes of what that something big could be. Hizashi’s worry for the man who was basically his other half grew, prompting the corners of his lips to turn down in a matching frown
He knew Shouta had enough on his plate right now, and didn’t need any more. There had been so much that had happened recently, so many times had there been a target placed on the backs of his students, and Shouta had no qualms with laying down his life if it meant he could save his students. Yes, 1-A were students to all the U.A. teachers, and all of them cared about them, but Shouta was particularly worried. He tried to be there as much as he could so he could be that front line between any villains that may attack and the students he viewed as his own children. Hizashi had heard the nightmares, given his room was next to Shouta’s and the walls weren’t particularly thick. He knew the regret, the fear that seemed close to overwhelming Shouta at times, whether asleep or awake.
“Maybe you should consider taking some time off.”
Hizashi blinked, coming back to the present--to the light-filled kitchen and contented cats, to the man beside him and the groceries they’d been putting away. He had to take a moment to process that, because despite his line of thought, the words hadn’t come from his own mouth.
“Huh? Me? Time off? What do you mean?” Why would he need time off? Yeah, he had three jobs between his teaching, his hero work, and his radio work. Yeah, worrying about whether or not Shouta was taking care of himself felt more like a fourth job. But he could handle it, had been handling it. He couldn’t just take the time off. He needed to be there.
“You’re wearing yourself into the ground. You’re so distracted right now, you can’t even put away the groceries in the right place,” Shouta nodded at Hizashi’s hand, which was wrapped around a carton of milk… that had just been placed on the top shelf of the cupboard. Before he could say anything, Shouta continued, “You’re tired all the time, and this is me saying that. You need to rest. You’re driving yourself into a breakdown.”
Hizashi just… stared at Shouta for a couple minutes, but it felt like they stretched into hours. He was driving himself into a breakdown? Hizashi was the one being worn thin? He couldn’t stop the small laugh that was expelled as a puff of air, even as Shouta’s dark gaze turned into a glare. Quickly, Hizashi put the carton of milk into the refrigerator before turning back to Shouta.
“I’m fine, Shouta. You sure it’s not you that needs the break? I’m sure someone can take over homeroom for the week, or at least a couple days. At least your substitute would be awake. It’s not like you don’t have your lessons planned for the Ethics classes plenty far enough in advance that you could be gone for the rest of the year without issue,” Hizashi ran a hand through his hair, the blond strands hanging loose around his shoulders. He hoped like hell this would potentially work, but considering how stubborn Shouta was…
“I’m fine, Hizashi. Besides, I can’t take the time. I have to be there.” Shouta turned back to the cupboards, placing a couple packages of his favorite jelly packets on their usual shelf. Hizashi let out a sigh that turned into something resembling a growl at the end.
“Bullshit, Shou. I know you’re not fine, and there’s no point in lying to me about it. I’ve heard your nightmares when you’re home, even the ones you’ve tried to hide from me, and they’re almost every night you’re here! I can’t imagine you’re getting much sleep when you’re monitoring the dorms, either.” Hizashi wanted to try to be there for the nightmares when he could but Shouta would stonewall him, not letting him in when the memories took the darkest turn they could.
“I’m the one bullshitting? I’m the one lying? Look in the fucking mirror, ‘Zashi. You’re not fine in the least. You’re a mess right now, because you’re not trying to put on the show for everyone else, most of whom buy it. I think the only ones who know it’s a show-- at least, those who see you daily--are me and Nemuri, so congratulations on that. You’re a master bullshitter, but I’m still here and willing to call you on it.”
Yeah, maybe he was more of a showman and plenty capable of crafting his appearance to hide it all. Maybe he wasn’t sleeping as well, because when he was home he was tossing and turning as he waited for Shouta to get home. Maybe once he was home, Hizashi woke at every noise, knowing that it could be the sounds of the demons in Shouta’s mind coming for him yet again.
“Yeah, well, maybe I’m not in the best shape right now because I’m so busy worrying that some asshole is driving himself to death and not letting anyone else fucking help!” At his sides, his hands had balled themselves into fists, iron control that had built over the years being the only thing keeping his quirk under control at this moment.
“There’s nothing to help with! These are my problems, my nightmares, my regrets. They’re my students to protect, so I’m the one that should be on the line,” Shouta’s attention was now totally on Hizashi, food forgotten on the counter and cats having disappeared somewhere as volumes had begun to increase.
“It’s always your life on the line, it’s always you as that last line of defense. It’s always you worrying about everyone else. Well guess what, Shou? You’re not the only one who’s fucking worrying about someone! You never think to take care of yourself, never think to rest when you need to. I’ve been trying to let you handle it your way, but I can’t. I can’t sit by and watch you destroy yourself anymore!” The words tore themselves from his throat, leaving something scraped and raw inside him that had already been battered and bruised.
“… What do you mean by that?” Shouta looked dumbfounded, as though he’d been struck rather than shouted at. His voice had seemed almost breathless, as though the wind had been knocked out of him by Hizashi’s words. A part of his mind had registered this, but his tongue had been loosened now, the filter gone, and he just kept going. He steamrolled through what should’ve been a sign to slow down, maybe wait a moment. Hizashi’s eyes dropped to the ground, unable to look his best friend in the eyes at this moment. If he did, a part of him knew he would never continue. The look in Shouta’s eyes, that stunned pain and… had there been fear dawning in those eyes? He didn’t know, and didn’t want to know. His anger pushed past that.
“I mean, I’m done! Shou, you can’t just be this self-destructive and not think it doesn’t effect the people around you! You’re not an idiot! I’m so done with this!” His right hand had come up, grasping at the hair just behind his right ear as he tightened his grasp on the thin strands. A sound that was a combination of a growl, a sigh, and just the barest hint of a sob caught and tore as it burst out of him. At some point, his vision had begun to swim a little as the saltiness of tears had started to sting his eyes behind the simple glasses he wore.
“’Zashi… please… don’t do this…,” Shouta’s voice sounded like it was caught in his throat, like each word was almost too hard to get out. Looking up, Hizashi met his eyes, almost surprised to see a desperation in them, accented by what might be tears. It was hard to tell given the tears in his own eyes. He was finally getting a reaction from Shouta that wasn’t a brush off. It was about damn time. The sharp, hard bark of harsh laughter that sliced up his throat resounded like a whip crack through the room.
“Why, Shou? Why do you even care now? You haven’t seemed to before,” Harsh as the words were, they crackled like old paper, brittle and dry. It was difficult to get them out, but he had to know. Shouta’s focus was so singular, and yes, the kids needed protection but… so did their teacher sometimes. Not that the teacher seemed to agree with that.
“I’ve always cared, Zashi!” The plea had torn its way into the open air.
“Sure, you do Shouta,” Hizashi scoffed, sarcasm oozing from his words, “More bullshit. If you did then you would take care of yourself!”
“I do!”
“No you don't!”
“Yes I do!”
“Why do you even bother coming home anymore, Shouta?!”
“Because… Because I’m fucking in love with you, you jackass!” Shouta’s chest was heaving, breath coming in gasps as his shoulders shook. The words fell like bombshells between them. Not because of their volume, despite the fact that Shouta’s voice had definitely increased in decibel level, but because of their content.
Hours could’ve passed as they stood there, no more words being thrown like stones as they stared at each other. Neither one seemed able to catch their breath, chests rising and falling with a speed that was to be expected at the end of a marathon. Was Hizashi actually able to hear Shouta’s heart beating at that rapid pace? Or was that his own?
It was Shouta that seemed to come back to himself first. Dark eyes widened, fear and anxiety leaking across them as comprehension of his own words dawned on his face. Before Hizashi could find a way to make his voice work, Shouta was out of the kitchen and, from the sounds he could hear, making a hurried grab for things as he raced to, knowing Shouta, leave the apartment and the situation.
Hizashi wanted to move, but his feet were rooted to the kitchen floor. He wanted to speak, lips moving and forming words his brain didn’t even comprehend, but his lungs had no breath to give them, so no sound was made. He wanted to stop Shouta, keep him from leaving, but even as the thought raced through his mind, he heard the door slam shut with a loud curse and knew he was too late.
~~~~~~~~~
The ability to move was the first thing that returned to Hizashi. He knew there was no catching up with Shouta at this point. It had only been a few minutes, but the other man was fast, and more than capable of finding ways to hide his path from Hizashi if Shouta wanted to. Mutely, Hizashi moved around the kitchen, finishing putting away the groceries even as the cats slunk out of their hiding places and stared at him curiously. He ignored them, shuffling out of the kitchen intending to go towards the bathroom. Instead, he found himself paused in the doorway, looking around the living area with a sense of loss.
The papers from earlier were gone. Shouta’s shoes, jacket, and capture weapon were gone, as was the bag he used to transport things between home and UA. This… could be normal. Maybe he was just going to the school to work on his grading, give them both some time to cool off. Yeah, that was it. Had to be it. He’d be back later. Hizashi convinced his feet to move, to continue on their shambling path towards the bathroom. It was going to be fine. They could fix this. Shouta would come home tonight, and they would talk about it, and things would be okay. He just… had to breathe through this. He had to think, and breathe through the silence and the confusion and the brief panic…
The open door to Shouta’s room caught his eye. Not because it was open. After all, Shouta preferred to let the cats roam the apartment as they would and they didn’t like closed doors any more than any other cats Hizashi knew. No, what made Hizashi’s head turn was the light that spilled out of it. At this time of day, light shouldn’t be hitting this side of the building so… that meant the light was on. Shouta was always so careful about turning his light off, citing the electricity bills and it being unnecessary. But… his light was on. He wasn’t home, and his light was on. Hizashi placed a hand on the door frame, steeling himself for… what, exactly? What was on the other side that could be so bad?
A peek into the room as he went to shut off the light gave him his answer. His hand hovered over the switch as he stared around the room that was always so neat, almost meticulously so. Now… it was like a whirlwind had hit it. Drawers were open, clothing spilling out of them. A section of the comforter looked like something dusty had been set on it, then removed. Fingers of ice-cold iron clenched tight around Hizashi’s heart. He knew Shouta had a suitcase he never really used. Hizashi had given it to him himself, teasing that it was for that vacation he might take some day. The fact that such an item would be dusty, combined with the evidence in front of him… Hizashi came to one conclusion.
Shouta wasn’t coming back tonight. Might not be coming back for quite a while. And it was all his fault.
Hizashi’s hand dropped over the switch, settling the room back into the darkness that was its normal state. He turned back towards the bathroom, a new urgency in his movements as he almost scrambled the final few feet. He couldn’t seem to breathe again. Why couldn’t he breathe? What was wrong with his lungs? He sagged against the sink, one hand slamming itself against the light switch to reveal his reflection. Ignoring it for the moment, he turned on the water and threw a couple handfuls at his face. The cold shocked him, his heart stuttering back into a ragged beat. His breathing got marginally better, but it was still shallow, still panicked.
He looked into the mirror and for once saw what Shouta may have been referring to in calling him a mess. His glasses were askew, barely managing to cover the bags that lurked beneath his eyes. They were usually so vivid in their color, but they were just dull and pained right now, the only flare of life in them a panic that only scratched the surface of what he was feeling. His hair was a mess of fly-aways and tangles thanks to his nervous habit of messing with it when it was down. The pallor of his face was highlighted by the redness around his eyes and the faint tracks of tears that had survived the wave of water he’d tossed at himself. He tried a smile, and it looked as off as it felt. Shouta was right. He was a total wreck right now. But he wasn’t the only one, and he was right too.
Hizashi slumped against the wall opposite the sink, head tipping back to thud slightly into the plaster. His eyelids drifted down as a sigh escaped his lips, as empty of breath as it was full of his weariness and pain. For all his words, born of anger and worry, he would never actually leave Shouta. It didn’t matter how much pain he was in as he watched Shouta slowly rip himself apart. While Shouta refused to let him in at the moments when it was clear he needed someone the most, there were still times when Hizashi could be there for him in a way no one else could. There were times when the only person Shouta allowed close was Hizashi, times when he needed another person, and the only one he trusted to be there with him was his best friend.
A soft thump shook Hizashi slightly. He hadn’t realized he was slowly sliding down the wall until he found himself sitting suddenly on the floor of the bathroom, knees pulled up practically to his chin. He wrapped his arms around his long legs, not really thinking about the action as he took it. No, he wouldn’t really leave Shouta’s side. For all his pain at what Shouta was doing to himself, it would be infinitely worse if he walked away. To do so would be to rip out a part of himself, to crush it to dust beneath his foot. He and Shouta had been best friends for so long… and not just friends but…
Hizashi had long ago made the decision to bury his feelings for Shouta deep inside, to content himself with being there as his friend, his best friend, his roommate, his other half in almost every way possible. He hadn’t wanted to risk that relationship, that trust, that bond for something as trivial as… as his own feelings. Feelings that, he was sure Shouta would think, were illogical, messy, and unnecessary. But for all his burying, his denial to both himself (on occasion) and others (more often, specifically Nemuri and Tensei), and his attempts to ignore… he couldn’t do it anymore.
He was in love with Shouta.
He had been for about the past… god, had a decade passed already? It had been after a patrol had gone wrong, a couple years after they’d graduated from U.A.. Hizashi had gone to the hospital, a frantic, frenzied mess as he raced to Shouta’s side. He’d barely breathed as he’d collapsed into the chair at his bedside, taking in the bandages, the wounds, the blood, the unconsciousness, the silence. To this day, he still had no clue how much time had passed while he waited there, holding Shouta’s hand and willing him back to consciousness, to him. The tears had come and gone during that time, drying in lines down cheeks that were pale and hollow with fear and pain. He knew he would give anything in that moment if it would bring Shouta back to him. It didn’t take that, of course. Shouta would’ve been able to tell anyone who asked how long he’d reportedly been unconscious during that time, probably something like a couple days.
It was during that time that Hizashi realized he was in love with Shouta. It was the absence, the utter radio silence, the lack of someone that had become so ingrained in his life he couldn’t remember what it was like without him. He really… didn’t know what he’d do without Shouta, had never considered it until the possibility was forced into his face by nearly losing him.
And now… now, ten years later…. Shouta just yelled that he was in love with Hizashi too. At the end of an argument. An argument where, whether he’d follow through with it or not, Hizashi had threatened to leave. Fucking hell, what had he done?
Hizashi went back to that moment, like the scene hadn’t played out minutes ago, but instead hours or days. He saw again the fear in Shouta’s eyes. This man who had seen so much, who’d almost died more than once and gone up against incredibly dangerous villains… was afraid of having admitted his love for his best friend. Shouta, who so rarely showed fear, was afraid… of him? But… that didn’t make sense to him. Why would he be so afraid of him…?
Something soft brushed against his hand. One of the cats, he would guess. He opened his eyes to see Shira sitting in front of him, just close enough to lean forward and nuzzle his hand. The calico was the eldest of the three cats, and she usually preferred Shouta to him. Despite this, it seemed she was curious what brought him to this point, and why he was just sitting there. She let out a soft meow, bumping her head into his hand a little harder this time. A faint chuckle slipped past his lips as he reached out to scratch her behind the ear. Shifting, he crossed his legs under him, an opportunity Shira took to climb into his lap and settle in.
He sat there silently for a few minutes, petting Shira and letting her purrs drown out the thoughts of panic and speculation that threatened to overwhelm him. Eventually, his ring tone sounded, an old pop song that Hizashi considered a classic, even if others didn’t. It wasn’t Shouta’s personalized ring tone, but still Hizashi scrambled to remember which pocket his phone was in. It had to be here somewhere…
He located it in the back pocket of his jeans after dislodging a displeased calico from his lap. The only message was a text. Frantic for word on Shouta, Hizashi opened it with shaking fingers.
‘Muri-Shoutas here Told me hed take dorm duty 2day WTF is wrong?
Hizashi snorted. Leave it to Nemuri to get straight to the heart of the matter. He pulled up his keyboard to respond.
Zashi- Fight. Big fight. Glad he’s safe. He okay?
It wasn’t that he could suddenly breathe again, far from it. It was more that it was easier to breathe. Just a little less weight on his chest, a little less cloud in his mind. Shouta was safe, even if he wasn’t coming home tonight. That part was… still painful to think about. Why shouldn’t it be difficult to know that he had driven away the person he cared about most with his silence? How ironic that the man who was never able to shut up or lower his voice, in the moment it mattered most, had no words. Why couldn’t he have just… said something? Anything? Any words that could’ve filled that silence would’ve probably changed this situation, meant he was having a conversation with Shouta face-to-face rather than texting Nemuri…
The shudder of his phone made him resurface from the tides of his thoughts.
‘Muri- Looks like shit n is muttering 2 himself. Swear he n Midoriya are related smtms. Other thn that okay. WTF HAPPENED?
Hizashi brought a hand up to his face, index finger pushing his glasses up to his forehead before he wiped the hand down his face to cover his mouth. He adored Nemuri like a slightly-older-yet-incredibly-annoying big sister. He did not want to deal with her nosiness right now. She was going to drive him insane, and ask him questions he didn’t want to answer, and would probably unintentionally make him feel worse than he already did.
Zashi- Nemuri, I love you like a sister. Fuck off, I’m not talking about it.
He took a small breath, far more shallow than it really should’ve been, but it worked for the moment. He doubted that was the last he’d heard of Nemuri’s curiosity, but he could hope. Maybe she was gonna be too distracted pestering Shouta to bother him anymore? That would probably be too lucky for him, but… maybe?
She’d said Shouta was muttering to himself. What was he muttering about? Was he regretting ever saying anything? Of course, he probably was. He confessed his love for Hizashi and what did Hizashi do? Stare at him and gape like a damn koi. Couldn’t even go after the man when he went to leave. Didn’t chase him down. Didn’t do a damn thing. Useless. Stupid.
Hizashi pushed himself up off the ground, using the violence of the movement to try to dislodge himself from those thoughts. He had to move, had to focus on something else. Ignoring the open-but-now-darkened door of Shouta’s room, he returned to the living room, determined to get his laptop open and maybe try to get himself distracted by something. After all, it was the Internet. What good was the damn thing if he couldn’t use it to distract himself? He was used to doing that. It wasn’t something he was very open about, his anxiety and occasional self-worth issues. The one person whom he’d actively told and whom he talked to about it had tried to suggest he talk about it on a greater platform, to help others as another kind of hero. Except all he saw if he did that was the risk, the probability of being ridiculed and having his carefully crafted public persona seen through so thoroughly.
Besides, Shouta wasn’t really one to talk.
Reaching the living room, he dropped onto the couch and reached for his laptop, studiously ignoring the barren space next to it, the absence on the other side of the couch. Hizashi opened up the computer, hoping that the machine would actually move fast for once. Amazing how often he was using that word, hope. Did he really have much of that left? Guess he kinda had to, as a hero and a teacher. Had to have some hope for the future, for the kids they taught, to do what he did.
His laptop moved rather easily today, as though taking pity on him. He was quickly clearing out his email when his phone sounded once more. Sighing, Hizashi took a look, mentally preparing to deal with shoving Nemuri away some more.
‘Muri- Dont blame me 4 whats cming. U shoulda jus talked 2 me.
What’s coming? What was she talking about? Before he could reply, a ringing emanated from his computer. There was a call coming in from the video-messenger. He took a look at who was calling, and groaned aloud, even as he clicked accept. He knew there was no chance of this being let go once Nemuri brought him in. What had she done?
Iida Tensei’s face filled the screen.
“Hey Tensei…” Hizashi’s tone was a bit more tired than he wanted it to be, but he knew there was no hiding from Tensei. All he could hope for would be to manage to deflect Tensei into not pushing, unlikely as that was. Tensei, the fourth of the quartet that had lasted since high school, was persistent when he thought it was in the best interest of those he cared about. It was usually a great thing… but Hizashi didn’t want to deal with that right now. He knew Tensei would be a worrying mother hen and push him to talk, especially because he didn’t want to.
“Hi Hizashi,” The other man seemed confused by the turn of events, “Nemuri said to call you and, I quote, ‘find out what the fuck is going on’.” The computer screen showed his quirked eyebrow and slight smirk as clearly as if he were seated in the same room. For all that Tensei’s younger brother and Hizashi’s student, Tenya, looked like his elder brother, he had none of the mischievousness and joviality that Tensei personified. Everything about Tenya was as unyielding and strict as Tensei was flexible and laid-back. Sometimes, Hizashi wondered how the two of them could be so different, before his own anxieties reminded him how much the pressure one can put on oneself could make a difference.
“… Do I have to? It’s really-” Hizashi started to try to deflect, but Tensei cut him off.
“If you’re about to say it’s nothing, I’m going to reach through this screen to smack you. I’m sure I can find someone with a quirk that will let me do that,” The laughter in Tensei’s eyes faded as he looked closer at Hizashi’s appearance, “Apart from the fact that you look like you’ve been run over by a couple bullet trains? You sound as beat-down as you look. Your responses are incredibly short for someone who loves to talk and doesn’t usually shut up. Oh, and if I let this go, Nemuri would kill both of us. I’ve had enough close calls for this year, thanks.” A bone dry look accompanied the matching tone, leveled at Hizashi over the hands that had just ticked off all the reasons why he was not getting out of this.
“Tensei… please…” Damn it, were those tears coming out in his voice right now? Was this really necessary? Hadn’t he gotten any crying out of his system? A small voice in his head sounded strangely like Shouta as it reminded him he didn’t really cry that much at all today.
“Hiza… c’mon, talk to me,” The voice resonating from his speakers was a plea. Few people called him by a nickname, and Hiza was the preferred one for Nemuri and Tensei. Shouta… Shouta was the only one who could use ‘Zashi. Just like Hizashi was the only one who could use Shou. And they’d used them… in an argument… that was all Hizashi’s fault…
The splashes on the laptop reminded Hizashi of raindrops, though of course today was bright and sunny. Why did all the songs talk about heartbreak happening in the rain? Thematic, yes, but… that wasn’t how it happened. When a heart broke, it was just as often in the bright, harsh sunlight that threw everything into stark relief.
“Shouta said he loved me, ‘Sei… but I drove him away. He left, ran away, and it’s all my fault. We got into an argument that was my fault, he said he loved me, and I was just… silent. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t move. I didn’t have any breath. Why couldn’t I say something? Anything would’ve made things different, made him stay, gotten him to talk to me. But I couldn’t say a word. The moment it mattered most, and I was as silent as the grave. As silent as an empty apartment. God, I’m such a fucking screw-up. I can’t believe I’m such an idiot. Can’t do one damn thing right…” Hizashi’s hands wove themselves into his hair, tugging the blond strands tight around his long fingers while tears streamed down his face. So much for keeping it in, handling it himself. He couldn’t do anything right could he? The words had just poured in a waterfall from his mouth, a seemingly never-ending stream of pain and blame.
“Hiza… Hiza, look at me,” Tensei’s voice was firm, level, reassuring in it’s steadiness. Almost without meaning to, Hizashi looked up, met the worried but calming gaze on the screen. Tensei continued now that he knew he had his full attention, “How do you mean the argument was all your fault? And I don’t think it’s your fault that you were stunned when the man you’ve been in love with for a decade suddenly says he’s in love with you.”
“Wait, what? How did you-?”
“Did you really think ‘Muri and I believed your denials?” The chuckle that accompanied those words was rich and warm, almost indulgent with one of his oldest friends. A fair enough description, given he was telling Hizashi that his denial of his feelings fooled absolutely no one.
“Wait, but does that mean… did Shouta…?” Oh hell, if Shouta knew and still ran away… that would make things so, so much worse. The racing thoughts and stuttering heartbeat were brought under control by the shake of Tensei’s head.
“No, I’m pretty sure he’s still in the dark. He may be one of the few, but…” Tensei’s words were a reassurance. Shouta didn’t run even though he knew Hizashi loved him too. Hizashi still started the argument, and he still didn’t say anything, but at least there was that one plus side. Tensei cleared his throat, continuing, “Anyways, what do you mean saying the argument was all your fault? You never really said.”
“Well…,” Hizashi ducked his head, not wanting to look Tensei in the eyes for this one, “All Shouta’d asked was that I take some time off… I didn’t think I needed it, but I wanted him to take some time off. He said he wouldn’t, that he was fine, and I… called him out.” It was hard enough to admit that he’d fucked things up like this. He didn’t want to see the disapproval on Tensei’s face as he said it.
“I think you both need to take time off, considering what I know has been happening around Shouta and how you look right now. Let me guess, you’ve been driving yourself into the ground worrying about him, right?” Tensei’s voice was tired, but not disapproving.
“I… Well, someone has to! The man doesn’t even bother to take care of himself most of the time!” The defenses got thrown up automatically. Hizashi took a deep breath and pushed them back down, “Yeah, I have been. But… Tensei, that doesn’t excuse what I said. I never would’ve done it, but I still said it.”
“What did you say?”
“I… told him I was done. I couldn’t do it anymore, watch him destroy himself. I made him think I would leave. God, I’m the worst…” Hizashi’s eyes closed as he fell back against the couch. How could he have even thought to do that? He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else, and even Tensei was silent for a long moment.
“You’re not the worst,” When the silence was broken, the tone of the words was almost gentle, “But I do think you two need to sit down and talk. Maybe not tonight, since you’re definitely in no shape to talk to him and he’s probably not much better if ‘Muri was demanding I talk to you. But soon. Possibly tomorrow. And Hizashi?”
“Hah?” The noise was more of acknowledgment than anything else, considering he still wasn’t looking at the screen.
“Shouta wouldn’t want you beating yourself up like this. I don’t think he blames you.” That made Hizashi’s head tilt forward just a little, just enough that he knew Tensei would be able to see a tired eye and a humorless smile.
“But Tensei… Shouta’s not here. And I do.”