Work Text:
Day 4:
Hivemind
Alt: Die a Hero
History had a sick and twisted way of repeating itself. Unable, or just unwilling, to create new pains it recycled old hurts. Fate was a cruel bitch who made sure memories were never forgotten, never left in the past.
Afterall if it worked once, if an event caused so much pain and suffering the first time, it will work a second.
It will be worse a second time.
Aizawa Shota crumbled to his knees. Hands falling loose of his capture weapon. The child sat in his lap. He couldn’t focus on the kid. His mind replayed the sight of blonde being buried. His husband's smile disappeared under mounds of concrete and rubble.
Shota had let it happen again.
Watched as his partner saved a child. Watched as a building crumbled. He couldn’t understand. They had sworn this would never happen again.
The child Hizashi had traded his life for cried. Big sobbing wails as they tried to deal with their fear. Shota wanted to scream. Break his fists against the concrete and beg whatever deity existed to give him his husband back. He needs Hizashi. He was the one sure thing in Shouta’s life. His rock that would always hold strong and keep him from falling too far. What was he supposed to do now?
“Mirai!” The name was screamed over and over. The child quickly left his space. He assumed they had moved closer to their parents, if that’s what they were.
He couldn’t be happy for the family. No matter how he wanted to because that little child was given a second chance. It just cost him too much. Their moment of joy was an even deeper well of sorrow for him. For Hizashi.
Shota thinks the family thanked him. Whatever they said washed over him. He could only hear the rush of blood in his ears. The tsunami drowned everything else out.
He struggled to remember the last thing he said to Hizashi. Why couldn’t he remember talking to him? It hadn’t been that long. They started their morning together, lazy and slow. Filled with lingering touches and soft words as they drifted through the dorm before this mission. They had made plans for a date night as they both had the weekend off.
What was that plan? Why couldn’t he remember?
Shota watched as other heroes arrived. He couldn’t force his body to move even if he wanted to. Defeat settled heavy in his bones. The very marrow felt as though it had been replaced with iron, keeping him trapped.
The heroes moved to clear the rubble. Shota thinks one tried to talk to him. Tried to get him to move away. He could only hear Hizashi’s voice in his ears. A gentle whisper of
I love you
as they separated, heading to their respective areas for this mission. Did he even say it back? Has he ever told Hizashi he loved him back? Loving Hizashi was as easy as breathing for Shota. He was the sun to every dark night.
Shota would never get to see that brilliant light again.
“Shota, it’s time to go.” He felt the rats paw on his knee. His claws lightly dug in, offering a grounding pressure. A place to focus instead of his spiraling mind.
“Not until- I need-” What did he need? He didn’t want to see Hizashi mangled and broken, but gods did he want his husband. Wanted to run his fingers through soft hair and feel Hizashi’s slender fingers against his ribs.
“You need to go back to UA.” The rat answered and spoke words he didn’t want to hear.
“No. no I have to know.” He whispered. Watched as Cementoss and Ectoplasm helped pull apart the mountain of rebar and concrete.
His husband's tomb.
“You don’t need to see him like this. Trust Cementoss will retrieve him.” Shota shook his head. It will be like Oboro all over again. Swept away for some sick experiments.
“We will keep him safe, Shota. I swear to you. Hizashi will be returned to you.” the rat dug his claws in more. Forcing him to look towards the rat. He could see the sorrow lining the principal's features. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
The tears finally came. Those few words rattled him down to his core. The gaping hole that was his and Hizashi’s soul, now a black pit. It threatened to consume him.
Shota wondered what was left for him. His husband was gone. Off to join Oboro and Nemuri. He didn’t have anyone left. Their son had moved out, gone to start his own life as well.
It only took a second to let his emotions completely engulf him.
He folded, forehead meeting the ground as he screamed. Hands clutching at the fabric of his scarf. He screamed until he was sure his throat bled, voice nearly gone.
He felt hands clawing at him. Trying to pull him upwards, to get him to properly breathe. Maybe even to stop making a scene. Shota didn’t know. He didn’t care either.
He only knew the grief drowning him. The guilt that he somehow lived a second time. He lost a second person so close to his heart. The second person to save him. This time, the one he truly and wholly loved.
Just gone.
Shota felt a small pressure at his neck, then let himself fade away.
Shinsou Hitoshi’s heart shattered the moment he heard Nedzu’s words.
I’m sorry to inform you, Yamada Hizashi has passed.
The phone had fallen from his hands. He crumbled to his knees, hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt.
His pops was dead. His dad hadn’t been the one to tell him.
Denki heard him fall. Quick words and rushed hands drifted over him. He tried to form words but only a strangled sob escaped him.
He would never go home to see both his fathers. Never see bright blond hair swaying as he sings. His voice a soft melody through the kitchen as he cooked. His dad sitting with a cup of coffee and a disgustingly sweet smile. The pair were so in love and Hitoshi would never admit it out loud how stupidly happy that made him. How he wished to have what they did one day.
He would never get the chance now.
He knew this moment of grief would be for both his fathers. It would stretch and confine him to sorrow for ages to come. While Nedzu had said Hizashi had died, Hitoshi knew Shota wouldn’t be far behind. They would chase each other through every world and every lifetime.
Hitoshi was going to be left behind, stuck grieving a family he held onto for a few years.
“Thank you sir, for telling us.” Denki whispered, tears on his own cheeks.
“Nedzu?” His voice cracked as he spoke. Denki quickly put the phone on speaker, resting it on the floor between them.
“Yes Shinsou?”
“Where’s my dad?” Denki sucked in a breath, fear lacing his features. He had seen how the pair interacted too. How they drifted but never strayed from each other. Always within arms reach.
Afterall he and Denki have been building the same love, the same orbit and grace.
“Back at the dorms. He left my office about two hours ago.”
He couldn’t breathe. Two hours. It took someone that long to contact him. It would have been well over two since HIsashi had- Why did it take so long for someone to tell him his parents were dead? It took more will than he would have liked to not yell and scream that he should have known sooner.
“He’s dead.” Hitoshi whispered. It was a fact he didn’t want to believe but knew his dad couldn’t live without his pops.
Hitoshi wouldn’t want to live if everyone he cared about died too. If his guiding star, his soul, died.
“I will send someone over. I am sorry.” The phone clicked off.
Denk flew forward wrapping his arms around Hitoshi. Not a word was uttered as he broke, clinging to his partner with everything he had. Losing one parent was awful, a world ending loss, but both? On the same day? Hitoshi felt his heart ground to dust.
They were the first people to show he was worth something. Showed that he was good and could have everything he ever wanted. The first people to love him. And they were both gone.
His grief was a quiet thing. Voice locked away as pain coursed through his veins.
Denki did everything he could to hold him together.
The final bell tolled. Hitoshi’s phone rang, Denki was quick to answer and put it on speaker phone. “Aizawa Shota is gone. I once again apologize for your loss.” The phone went silent as he held impossibly tighter to Denki.