Chapter Text
Hizashi Yamada was no stranger to the cruel world of abuse. He was a pro-hero; he had seen some shit before, so a call about a foster home that was being taken down and detained didn't exactly phase him. He had been working the radio station when he got the call asking him to come in and comfort the children while the police and other heroes helped with the arrest—normal work.
This is how he found himself standing outside a large three-story house, the darkness of the night being shallowly illuminated by the flickering streetlights and the brilliant flashes of police lights. The blonde glanced around at the traffic of people around him, watching as two people were slowly brought out of the house in cuffs, looks of fear, anger, and dissociation on their faces. Mic grimaced at the sight of them, trying to calm the swell of rage as he looked at those monsters. He was disgusted by people who decided children are best dressed in black and blue.
Yamada took a deep breath and readjusted his smile, wanting to show the children that there wasn't anyone to fear anymore, that he was a trusted hero who could help them at that moment. Of course, he'd be a lot quieter -children who've suffered at the hands of abusers tend to be more skittish; the last thing he wants is for them to be afraid. Languidly, he made his way into the house, glancing around at the decor on the walls and the conditions of their living space. The home was spacious yet barren, and the walls held nothing of importance nor any sentimental value. No pictures, no art, not even a chore list. Zashi felt his smile falter slightly as he turned the corner into the living room and saw a small child sitting on the couch, statue still and looking at his small feet as they rocked back and forth like a pendulum.
Hizashi worked his way over to the small child, noting how he at least looked fed and bathed. His indigo hair was fluffy and bouncy as he lightly kicked his feet. He was dressed in black pants, a blue shirt, and a long purple scarf wrapped around him, giving the kid something to fiddle with. Zashi walked over to the boy and gently kneeled before him, careful not to make too many sudden movements to startle him. He reached up towards his face and slowly took his glasses off, getting a glance at the boy and his strikingly violet eyes.
"Hey there, buddy. How are you doing?"
Silence.
"It must've been horrifying… Dealing with those people all the time. Say, what's your name, kid?"
Silence.
Zashi felt himself swallow as he looked at the kid, trying to read what must've been going through his head. The kid looked distressed and sorrowful, his face foggy from deep pain. The blonde considered his options, noting the lack of response and his distant expression; he assumed the child was nonverbal. This was fine. He could deal with this. He has before.
"Here. Do you want to write your name for me? Then we can go on from there." Present Mic moved to request a paper and pencil from one of the officers when a glimpse of little hands moving caught his gaze. Turning towards the boy, he noticed him signing two words: 'Dream Boy.' He was shaky, but it was clear as day with someone as experienced in sign as Zashi. The child continued signing, signifying that that was his name, but it was spelled'S H I N S O'.
The hero felt himself smile as he looked at Shinso, who was now making a better attempt to look the blonde in the eyes. Zashi moved into a criss-cross position, letting his knees have a slight break from the weight of his body. He moved his hands a bit slower, signing to the boy.
'It's good to meet you, Shinso. Are you hard of hearing at all?'
The violet-eyed boy shook his head, responding, saying he could not speak but could hear quite well.
Ah, so he was mute. Mic could work with this. He had half a mind to inquire about what had happened within the house, but he decided to save that for a different day. He got the attention of one of the police, signaling him to ask for Shinso's file. Upon receiving it, he quickly glanced over it to absorb the information of the small boy. His name was Shinso Hitoshi. He was seven years old and had been there since he was a baby. He scanned the page for any indicator of his quirk to see if it was listed. The blonde's eyes cause the bolded area at the bottom of the file. Quirk: brainwashing. By speaking to the individual, he can bring them into a state of compliance and have them under his control. Unstable as of now.
Huh. I haven't seen anything like that before; he must be a selective mute then. Zashi set the file down beside him and went on with his conversation with Shinso.
He continued asking about his likes and favorite foods. He wanted to make sure that Shinso was comfortable and that he could feel a bit safe. Hizashi noticed the slight upturn of a smile on that chubby little face for the first time during that conversation, causing his heart to burst with joy at the sight.
Mic sat with Shinso for what felt like hours, talking about things they liked and telling small jokes to each other. It was nice to at least have a bit of comfort for the hurt boy in a time of such torture. The police came into the room at a point to inform Yamada that they were packing up and moving from the scene to do the paperwork elsewhere and that the children were being taken in at a different facility for the time being.
"Alright then. Here, Shinso, let me walk you out to the car, okay? You'll be going somewhere safe." The hero stood up and went to help the child, pulling him up onto his feet. The purple scarf got caught up under the young boy's feet as he stood, his foot catching the end and tugging it off.
"Oh! Lost your scarf there, buddy. Here, let me help." Zashi crouched down to aid in wrapping his scarf around his neck again but froze in his place, his blood turning to sludge as his eyes gazed over the horrific sight. On Shinso's neck was a long scar that went from right under his chin to the top of his clavicle. It was mean, and it looked barely healed. Cogs turned in the hero's head as he filled in the blanks.
Pure, deep-seated rage filled the loud blonde, his eyes growing a ruby red at the idea of those monsters. How could they hurt this sweet baby? This poor child never asked to have this quirk style; he never asked to be born like that. How could they debark him?!
Yamada leaned in and hugged Shinso close, nuzzling his little neck and gently stroking his hair.
“I swear… no one will hurt you again Shinso… I promise.”
The small boy held onto the voice hero with a vice grip, tears pricking his eyes. He felt himself picked up and cradled close, smelling the scent of the man's cologne permeating his nose. He smelt of vanilla and lemon. He'd swear to commemorate this scent to memory as the smell of happiness. Of home.
~~ x ~~
Shouta stared down at the young boy who sat at their kitchen table eating a bowl of steamed rice and a boiled tea egg. He could feel a deep sadness within him as he recapped the information that was told to him when his husband had brought the small child home.
"He was fucking debarked, Sho… they fucking cut his vocal cords. He's only seven… he's not even double digits, and they treated him like a fucking villain!"
The noirette shut his eyes tight at the memories of Zashi holding himself back from tearing apart their kitchen from pure rage. He was quite uses to witnessing his husband's anger and his quick emotions, luckily never directed towards himself, bit they have had to replace various household objects due to it. He'd admit he was upset too; to see a child so young get treated so horribly was terrible, scary even. He would've treated him with the softest and sweetest hands if this had been his baby. In his opinion, every child is a gift, a sapling that needs guidance, patience, and lots of love and respect.
"Sir? I'm done eating now." The small boy's hands moved in a rhythmic dance of a silent language. He grabbed a napkin he had been given and wiped his face before getting up with his empty dish.
Aizawa met Shinso halfway, grabbing the plate and smiling at him. So polite, he thought. After setting the bowl in the sink, he gently picked up the child and led him to their spare room. The commission had granted them temporary custody over Hitoshi, and Mic was ecstatic to have this little bundle in their family. They had been planning on having children, but with hero work and UA, it was hard to plan when Shouta could be off for a year to care for the baby.
"Alright, hon… let's get to bed, okay? We'll get into jammies and go nigh nigh."
Hitoshi nodded at Eraser, looking at the new room he would call his own. It seemed nice, and it smelled like how Yamada smelled. He liked Yamada; he was nice and didn't treat him like a bad boy. He felt himself get set down on the comfy bed, his weight settling into the soft mattress as he started to get stripped. Soon, he was warm and dressed in little dino jammies. He liked dinosaurs! How'd they know?
The hero gently tucked Shinso in, pulling the fluffy comforter up and under his chin, covering that nasty scar that made Aizawa's stomach churn.
"Goodnight, Hitoshi. Have good dreams."
He leaned in and gently patted the young one's head, shutting the lights off and leaving him to sleep. The noirette went into his bedroom and shed out of his clothing, leaving his jeans, shirt, and binder on the floor. He crawled into the bed next to Zashi and pecked his cheek, snuggling up under the covers with his hubby.
"He's tucked in. He was very polite, charming," he sighed, "it's so sad to know that that is what happened to him… to know they treated him that way…"
The blonde closed his emerald eyes and sighed, the clinking of his glasses echoing in the air as he set them on the side table.
"I wanna kill them. They didn't just hurt him, they made it so he now has a handicap that he didn't need. It's not fun having losing a sense sense or an ability. He didn't deserve this."
Hizashi turned over and slotted his husband against his body, feeling as Shouta laid his head on his chest and nuzzled close. The voice hero laid back and stared up at the ceiling, his hand gently twirling his Wawa's dark hair as he thought of the entire situation regarding Shinso. He was scared to think of what would come of the whole thing and what the future held for his family.