Chapter Text
Shouta's feet shuffled ever so slightly across the hard wood of his floor. Normally he would never drag his feet, but being nearly crushed to death would do it to anyone. Nomu, that's what he'd called that monstrosity. He could still feel it's thick hands twisting until bone shattered. It's knee had pushed into his back until his ribs had snapped and very nearly his spine. The memory of that feeling made a rare shudder move along his bruised vertibra. Still. He'd go through it again as long as the result was the same. His students were safe, that was all that mattered.
It was also rare that he gave into Hizashi's demands to help, but with two broken arms he'd had little choice. Well, that and because it felt wrong not to let him. He'd had a very real brush with death and Hizashi had been terrified. Even if that's not what he showed, Shouta knew it; and maybe he felt the need to comfort his friend in the way he could.
Rounding the corner into the livingroom, he found him sitting on the floor, tucked into the kotatsu, in pajamas that were a size too big. Just as he prefered. At some point he'd laid his head down on the table and passed out, piles of papers to grade all around him. His bun had come loose and strands fell across his face. That habit of pressing his hand to his mouth in his sleep, clearly still strong. He looked a bit like a cat hiding their face behind their paws while they slept. It had taken a few times to catch on that it was always something he did. When he'd asked him why he had the habit, Hizashi had told him he would get in trouble for accidentally using his quirk in his sleep, so the habit formed.
It had been a while since either of them had spent the night at one another's. Life got in the way, he had two jobs and Hizashi had... way too many. The time for that sort of hang out just... hadn't been around. In a few years actually... that might be something they needed to change some how. It was kind of nice to know he still had the habit.
"Hey Hizashi," he asked, his voice still rough from the fight. The sleeping man didn't budge, aside from a muffled snore.
"Hizashi!" He tried a bit louder to no avail. Damn it, it felt ungrateful to kick him.
When he leaned in to get his attention, something caught his eye. Next to his glasses, and a mostly empty sake bottle, between his normal headphones where a small set of earbuds. But not just any earbuds. Were those hearing aids? When had that happened? Why wouldn't he have told him?
With no other choice he nudged him with his foot. Hizashi jumped to life, looking around a touch wildly before realizing it had been Shouta who woke him. He grabbed the little buds and put them in before putting on his glasses. "Why are you out of bed?"
"I needed a glass of water," Shouta sighed, feeling helpless.
"Ya, ya, ya, I can play that request," Hizashi replied, voice somehow as bright and cheerful as always, even just waking up. With a yawn he stretched out and got up. Again, distinctly cat like. "You should roll on back to bed."
Shouta just nodded, turning to shuffle back to bed, too tired from healing to argue. Hibiki let out a wide mewling yawn and flicked her tail as she watched him come back. "Sorry," he muttered to his cat, genuinely feeling bad for disrupting her sleep.
Hizashi was right on his heels, hair rebounded, water in hand. He sat on the bed(that Hizashi had bought him to heal in. "You cant heal in a sleeping bag on the floor, Shouta Aizawa!")next to him, and brought the glass to his lips.
Shouta drank deeply, feeling relief in his dry throat. "Why didn't you tell me you were going deaf?" He asked in his normal blunt way, when he'd taken the glass back.
"Well, I assumed you knew," Hizashi laughed, he brought the glass back to Shouta's lips so he could drink again.
Shouta glared at him from behind his bandages for choosing that moment; though a large part of him was relieved he still had the sight to do so. "No, I haven't seen you without your headphones in a long time actually. You never take them off." He even wore them most of the time he wasn't working now. He'd come to realizes the constant feeling on his ears and the ability to adjust what sounds he heard were stems for Hizashi.
Shouta had actually considered a set for similar reasons. Too much noise often grated on his nerves. However, he'd decided to hone his nap game instead. Being dead to the world was even better then not being able to hear it.
Hizashi nodded conceding, "I figured it was obvious with my quirk, ya dig?" He shifted the blankets around and pulled them back over Shouta's legs. Hibiki promptly stood, stretched, and moved over to his lap.
It was Shouta's turn to concede the point. He offered his cat a bandaged hand, which she lovingly headbutted all the same. "When did it start?"
"It's always been a problem, I mean my first cries made everyone's ear bleed, remember? It started getting bad in middle school, I got my first hearing aids not long after we graduated UA," around the time Shouta had started distancing himself drastically. Hizashi couldn't help a little laugh, reaching one hand out to pet the tabby cat for him. "I wasn't hiding it, I'm just a master lip reader and thought it was obvious, to you at least."
"Huh," Shouta replied loosing the fight with keeping his eyes open.
"Go back to sleep, I'll make sure to keep one in and listen out for my number one listener," Hizashi all but ordered as he set the glass down so that he could cover Shouta with his quilt. Hibiki hoped back up and waited patiently for her dad to settle in.
"Thanks 'zashi," he replied in a tired voice. He shifted to lay back down and let himself sink into the pillows.
"Anytime Sho," Hizashi replied quietly, covering him up. Hibiki got back on his legs and circled, before laying down to sleep. Loud purring began to fill the room in a soothing rhythm.
He hovered for a moment, until Shouta's breathing began to even out. There had been a knot in his chest from the moment he'd seen Shouta damn near dead. It wasn't going anywhere, but at least seeing him actually alive, actually healing, it eased enough to be able to breathe again.
Satisfied, he returned to the livingroom to drink more and quell the guilt of not being there in the first place. That and his neverending stack of papers to grade.