Comfort Part Two

Things got easier, after that, if only a little. Easy enough that Hitoshi was able to calmly sit at the dining table when Aizawa urged him to and easy enough that he listened to Aizawa and Yamada finish dinner and then easy enough that Hitoshi was able to push away his anxiety when they actually sat down to eat with him.

In reality, he wasn't used to any of this. Things at home were more frantic than this, the house always loud and busy and still somehow, Hitoshi felt nothing but a distant loneliness when he was there. He was a problem child—and no one wanted to do anything with him. He even usually ate alone and he was so used to sitting down and shutting up and being treated like he didn't exist that it was weird to sit down and actually have a meal with other people.

He was lucky, though, because Yamada seemed determined to not let there be silence between the three of them. As soon as Hitoshi sat down, Yamada started talking and asking questions and even though the voice hero had a lot to say, Hitoshi didn't mind listening to him.

"—Hitoshi-san, what kind of food do you like?" Was what Yamada started off with, setting down a bowl of hot, homemade soup in front of him, Hitoshi just staring up at him as he continued talking. "Shouta's really picky, so he doesn't eat a lot of foods, and it's usually unhealthy stuff—"

"I eat just fine," Hitoshi heard Aizawa interject from where he was also sitting at the table, a sea of papers spread out before him.

"I'm not picky," Hitoshi told Yamada, raising his head back to him after giving Aizawa a long look, trying to hide his own amusement. That seemed to delight Yamada, because the man immediately launched into a spiel about cooking and how he had an excuse to try out new things now. Hitoshi just listened, not quite feeling comfortable enough to fully engage, only nodding along and occasionally making a comment or answering a question. Yamada didn't appear to mind at all, though, carrying on, Hitoshi listening to every word he said, as well as every interjection from Aizawa.

The food was good, too. There was usually food at his foster home, as opposed to some places he'd been, but anything homecooked was a rarity usually reserved for when his foster parents were trying to show off for someone. This felt so casual, like it was a normal thing here, and having homemade dinner with two people who actually paid attention to him wasn't something he was used to, but it definitely wasn't unwelcomed.

As the minutes passed, Hitoshi started feeling a little better physically, as well, the itch in his throat all but fading out and the burning in his body finally cooling. Drowsiness took its place, but he'd been expecting it, given what he'd taken. By the time he'd finished the food that'd been given to him, he was fighting to keep his eyes open, trying to stay awake long enough to move back to the couch.

Aizawa was the one who said anything, Hitoshi leaning forward, eyes half-shut as he tried to listen to Yamada, Aizawa cutting in during a moment where Yamada paused, "If you're feeling tired, it might be best to rest in your room."

Aizawa drew Hitoshi's attention away from Yamada. He was looking at Hitoshi from over his papers, which Hitoshi quickly recognized as grading. Hitoshi dropped his gaze, barely fighting back a yawn, slowly processing what he'd just said.

His room.

Hitoshi couldn't even begin to deal with that right now. He hadn't had his own room in a long time and… he sort of didn't want to be alone right now, the simple idea of wandering into the other parts of the house sounding anxiety-inducing. He just wanted to stay out here, where at least he knew it was safe, and he didn't want to fall asleep again, guilt resting heavy in him because he'd hardly done anything here besides sleep.

"I like it out here," He mumbled, staring down at his empty bowl. "—I sort of feel like all I've done is sleep…"

"You're sick. You need rest. If you feel more comfortable out here, then it's fine if you want to stay out here."

Aizawa was always so blunt about things. He was logical to the point that Hitoshi often found himself unable to argue with him because Aizawa had a way of making himself clear enough that Hitoshi could see his points. He raised his head again, looking back at his teacher, only to watch Aizawa drop the pen he'd been grading with, straighten his papers, and get up from the table.

"Go lay back down. Hizashi can keep you company while I clean up."

Hitoshi didn't argue, rubbing at his eyes with the palm of his hand, leaning heavily on the table as he got up and shuffled his way back to the couch. Sitting down again felt nice and Hitoshi sunk back, closing his eyes and breathing out. He'd pulled the blanket over himself and somewhere, he heard Yamada following him and the jingling of a cat's collar. The sounds of Aizawa cleaning up met his ears and he knew he should've offered to help, but it was hard enough to keep his eyes open and Hitoshi honestly didn't feel like he could focus enough to properly help and not just get in the way.

He didn't have to think too long, though, because before Hitoshi could get lost in his own head, Yamada was talking to him, bringing him back down to the ground just as Hitoshi heard Aizawa start washing the dishes.

"Hitoshi-san, have you met this one yet?"

Curiosity killed the cat and Hitoshi opened his droopy eyes to see Yamada standing in front of him, grinning wide and holding a struggling, squirming black and white, almost kitten-looking cat.

"Is...Is that the young one?" He asked, still leaning his head back, though he didn't let his eyes fall shut again. Almost instinctively, he raised his arms, holding his hands out, and Yamada only smiled more as he came forward and helped Hitoshi take the squirming, chittering cat from him.

"No, no, this is our oldest! She's… fifteen, I think. She's a rescue! So are the others, but we got her a couple years ago!" Yamada explained to him, voice picking up with excitement. Hitoshi pulled the cat close to him, hearing her chirp at him and she squirmed around on his lap, able to move around a bit since Hitoshi wasn't holding her very tightly. "Her name—it's, uh… Her name is Blanket. Shouta named her. I stopped letting him name our cats after Jelly."

He'd heard the same thing earlier when Aizawa had introduced him to the first cat. Blanket chirped again and Hitoshi let up, the cat immediately jumping off of his lap. She didn't go far, though, leaping onto the couch, only to flop onto her back and bat at the sleeve of Hitoshi's shirt.

"What an odd name…" Hitoshi commented, reaching out to rub her belly, thinking that was what she wanted with the way she'd rolled onto her back, only for her to reach out with her front paws, claws outstretched, and catch his hand, sharp claws digging into his skin as he grimaced at the stinging pain. It wasn't hard enough to draw blood, but it definitely did hurt.

"Shouta names his cats after the first thing he thinks of," Yamada frowned at Hitoshi getting his hand caught, leaning down and gently pushing the cat's paws away from his hand, Hitoshi having been too slow to do so himself. Yamada was a lot closer now, and Hitoshi felt a little strange being so near him, but Yamada only flashed him a more gentle smile, "Blanket was pretty sick when she came home—like you!—so Shouta had her wrapped in a blanket for a while because that was the only thing that calmed her. I guess Shouta thought that would be a good thing to call her. She's usually pretty lazy but it looks like she likes you enough to try to play!"

Hitoshi looked from the cat to Yamada again, not saying anything at first. In the kitchen, he could still hear the water running. His mind was running slowly, his thoughts never quite fully formed, but his fever had died down enough that Hitoshi no longer felt hot and ill. He was fine like this, even if he didn't quite know how to respond to Yamada.

Yamada didn't seem to be expecting a response, though, because he sat next to Hitoshi, where Aizawa had been earlier, focusing on him as he continued on, letting Hitoshi relax back as he talked, "You know, you look an awful lot like Shouta. I mean—you're clearly not actually related to him, but the faces you make are pretty similar. You kinda talk like him, too."

"Do I really?" He murmured, hardly even thinking about the words that came out of his mouth.

"Yeah!" Yamada's voice rose in volume and then fell back almost instantly, Yamada laughing quietly."You remind me a lot of him—especially when he was younger. He was a lot shorter than you, but other than that, pretty similar. Hey, wanna see?"

That interested him. He'd always been curious about Aizawa, his curiosity only growing in the past few months. He'd always wondered what kind of person Eraserhead was and when he'd found out that Aizawa was actually the heroic, honest guy Hitoshi had always imagined him to be, he'd just gotten more and more curious about Aizawa—to the point where he'd often found himself wondering how Aizawa thought and what his life was like, both now and in the past, so Yamada offering to show him what Aizawa looked like back in high school immediately got his attention.

"Sure," Hitoshi agreed simply, Yamada nodding, grinning and getting up from the couch. Hitoshi watched him, eyes following him as he went to the bookcase pushed up against the opposite wall, pausing and crossing his arms before crouching down, pulling what looked like one of many thick photo albums from the bottom shelf. He paused again before bringing it over.

"Oh, I have something else for you. Hang on," He pushed the book at Hitoshi and Hitoshi automatically took it, holding the thick photo book in his hands, staring down at it and not even thinking to open it yet. Drowsiness dragged at him, but he was too curious to tell Yamada that he just wanted to rest. He heard the sounds of a plastic bag being rustled, just as the water stopped running from the kitchen, Hitoshi looking to see Aizawa leaning on the counter, clearly watching them.

Hitoshi definitely wasn't expecting it when Yamada returned to him with what looked like a stuffed cat. It wasn't like he hadn't remembered Yamada's conversation with Aizawa earlier, from before he'd talked to the police, but he'd shoved that part into the back of his mind in favor of worrying about a police visit instead. This—it hadn't been what he was expecting, but Hitoshi couldn't deny that he had the urge to take it from Yamada and hide it away like he did with everything else he kept close to him.

Being in foster care meant having only a few possessions. No one in the system had a lot of things, but Hitoshi had even less, given that he'd been moved around a lot. It wasn't anything that he felt disappointment at—rationally, not having a lot of things was better. Keeping stuff was a bad idea. Things got stolen. They got intentionally broken. They got lost and taken away. It was better to just save the disappointment.

Hitoshi's possessions consisted of a few pieces of clothing, his school bag, his old handheld game system, and a locked box that he kept objects that held some value to him, usually photographs and little things. He'd never had a comfort object. He hadn't had one when he'd entered foster care like most kids did and after that, he'd learned to shut himself off and do everything he could to not be jealous of or pay attention to the others, knowing that his circumstances were wildly different and he'd be in the system until he aged out of it.

"Why—?" Was all he could ask, not quite understanding. It didn't make sense. He was fifteen years old and—honestly he'd thought he was a little old to have things like this. It didn't mean that he didn't want it; it was just the way he'd gotten himself to not be jealous of the other kids in foster care, the way he'd learned to put his feelings aside—by separating himself from everyone else and thinking of himself as someone who was fundamentally different than all the other kids.

Yamada didn't miss a beat, giving Hitoshi that same gentle smile from before, "Think of it like… a welcome gift. Shouta said you don't have much back at your old home and when I was a kid, I really liked stuffed animals. I still have a bunch of mine! They're in one of the closets upstairs. I'll show them to you sometime. But things like this are good to have, trust me!"

Yamada didn't wait, instead softly placing the toy in his lap, Hitoshi staring down at it for a long moment. It wasn't big, maybe the size of the real cat still trying to play with his shirt beside him. It did look soft, though, with black fur and dark eyes, and Hitoshi could feel both Aizawa and Yamada looking at him as he brushed a hand through the soft material that made its synthetic fur.

"Thanks," He murmured, quiet even though he genuinely was appreciative. He was still trying to act mature, trying to not let himself be childish, even with the way the medication from before was making his mind slower. He was terrified that if he acted too excited, he'd somehow ruin things. He looked to the side, where he could still see Aizawa leaning on the counter, arms crossed on the surface, watching, and then raised his head to Yamada, forcing the moment to pass, "You said you'd show me pictures…?"

"Right!" Yamada chirped, not even hesitating to take his seat next to Hitoshi again, the cat jumping out of his way as he sat closer, pulling the photo book over both their laps. Hitoshi let him, too tired to be shocked or anxious about being so close to someone else, and it was easy enough to lose himself in what Yamada was saying, rather than to disappear into his own thoughts, "Shouta and I went to highschool together—"

"You're showing him high school pictures? How embarrassing."

Hitoshi didn't look up at Aizawa, too engrossed in the photos before him. Yamada had opened the book and Hitoshi immediately recognized both Yamada and Aizawa, a page full of photos of the two of them meeting his eyes. They looked different, though only in that they were younger, and Hitoshi stared at the younger version of his teacher, looking similar to how he did now, yet different. It was jarring and Hitoshi wanted to keep looking, wanted to see what Aizawa had been like before he'd been a hero.

"Hush, Shouta," Even like this, Hitoshi could tell that Yamada's voice was nothing but playful, and the man was all too excited to turn back to Hitoshi, Hitoshi listening to every word he said as he pointed to pictures, explaining with a fast, happy voice, "I'm sure Shouta's told you the story of how he transferred classes! I guess you'll be just like him, right? Here's when he first transferred into my class…"

------

Hitoshi didn't quite recall lying down, nor did he remember at what point he'd chosen to close his eyes and fall asleep. Drowsiness had overtaken him and he'd listened to Yamada's stories, something drifting to where Aizawa had sat on the floor across from them, surprising Hitoshi by abandoning his grading to play with one of the cats as Yamada told him stories. At some point, though, Hitoshi fell asleep and then woke up once more long after, opening his eyes to find the room fairly dark, the only light coming from the kitchen.

He fully expected to just go back to sleep—or at least try to. He was still tired, his body just used to waking up multiple times at night. His head was oddly quiet and he knew where he was, knew he was in Aizawa's house, lying on the couch in the living room, a blanket covering him and a pillow under his head. He was sure Aizawa and Yamada had gone to bed long ago, after Hitoshi had fallen asleep.

The thing that kept him up a little longer, though, was when he realized he wasn't alone.

It was the breathing he heard, realizing that it'd been part of the quiet noise of the room, close enough that it made Hitoshi's eyes widen a little. He raised his head a little, rolling onto his back rather than his side, and looked up to see that he definitely wasn't alone, because Aizawa was sharing the couch with him, sitting mostly upright with his feet tucked under him, resting his cheek on his hand, clearing fast asleep.

This was far from the first time he'd seen Aizawa asleep in an odd place or position. He knew Aizawa had some sort of sleep disorder that made him unnaturally tired during the day—which, Hitoshi supposed, was part of the reason he did hero work at night—and Hitoshi had seen him dozing off more than once at the cat cafe Aizawa usually took him to, almost always in a similar position that he was in now.

Hitoshi's head was clear enough that he could figure out that Aizawa had accidentally fallen asleep out here, given that he looked similar to when he unintentionally dozed off when he spent time with Hitoshi after training. After everything Aizawa had done for him today, the least Hitoshi could do was wake him up so he could actually sleep in his room, rather than out here with him. Even if Hitoshi didn't like being alone, there was no reason for Aizawa to sleep in the living room.

Hitoshi sat up more, pulling himself up with only a little difficulty, most of the achiness having left his body. He hesitated, not sure if touching Aizawa was allowed, even if it was just on his shoulder. He wasn't used to touching people at all and the idea was still odd to him, so he opted for the more logical route and used his voice.

"Hey, Sensei."

It didn't take anything more than that. He sat back, hearing Aizawa's breath hitch. There was a beat, a beat of silence, before Aizawa raised his head, messy black hair falling over his face, and half-opened his eyes at Hitoshi. This wasn't the first time he'd woken his teacher up, either, and the way Aizawa always gave him a bleary-eyed look usually amused him a little.

Hitoshi cocked his head at him, keeping his voice quiet, not wanting to wake the other person in the house, "You fell asleep."

Aizawa didn't immediately respond, and Hitoshi didn't expect him to. Aizawa always seemed to take a few moments to fully wake up after his sleep was interrupted. He rubbed at his eyes, but didn't get up, hardly even moving around. Hitoshi waited, having all the patience in the world when it came to Aizawa, and Aizawa yawned, finally speaking in a similarly low voice, "I intended to."

Hitoshi stopped, staring at Aizawa, feeling his lips twitch into a confused frown. He'd assumed that Aizawa falling asleep on the couch was unintentional, just like all those times he'd fallen asleep at their table at the cat cafe, hunched over and like he'd just closed his eyes and then nodded off. He hadn't really considered that Aizawa had meant to doze off out here.

"You meant to fall asleep?" Hitoshi asked, wanting to hear it verbally before he made any more assumptions. It didn't really make sense—Aizawa obviously had a room and a bed and from looking around before, Hitoshi had seen that the door to the master bedroom had even been left open, so he wouldn't have been completely alone.

"I figured it might be best to keep you company in case you were to wake up," Aizawa leaned his head on his hand again, arm resting on the end of the couch. "Like you did."

"Oh," Was all Hitoshi could see, still looking at his teacher. He would've been fine out here, especially if they'd left the door to the master bedroom open, but—he couldn't deny that it was better to not be alone at all. He could imagine his thoughts starting to circle and get louder if he was alone, but with Aizawa here… it was different. He didn't know what it was, but something about not being alone made things a lot more comforting.

"I didn't get to say this before, but…" Hitoshi was saying things before he could stop himself, and when he realized what was coming out of his mouth, he made no attempt to. It was what he'd been thinking and feeling since the moment he'd stepped into this house. "…Thanks for this. It's a lot and everything's happening fast, but I'd like to stay here and…"

He closed his eyes.

"…I'm not taking this for granted."

Hitoshi had learned during his life to not take the few nice things that came his way for granted. He knew how to appreciate and savor them, mostly because he never knew when another good thing was set to come his way. Fate was a funny thing, a thing that never seemed to like Hitoshi much, and he'd found that not expecting things and trying to work hard for what he desired was the only way to get through things.

He'd never expected this. This had been a thing that he only imagined when things were really hard, when one of his foster parents or his older foster sibling got physical with him, when the loneliness got to be too much, or when Hitoshi would sit back and force himself to watch everyone else with real, functional families. He'd never dared to ask for this, never even fully told Aizawa what happened at home. He'd figured it out on his own, from the things Hitoshi let slip, among other things. It still didn't feel quite real, but Hitoshi didn't want this to go away.

As fast and confusing as this was, he wanted this.

"I know you aren't," He could feel Aizawa's gaze on him, softer than it usually was. "Focus on getting more comfortable here. When I told you I'd take care of things, I meant it. You're still nervous, but no one's going to make you go anywhere, especially back to your foster parents."

He'd decided that he was going to trust Aizawa earlier. As much as his instincts told him not to, Hitoshi breathed out and nodded, believing in every word he heard.

"And tomorrow…?" Hitoshi opened his eyes again.

"I still plan on doing a home visit," Aizawa told him, raising an eyebrow at him. "You don't have to come with me if you're not feeling up to it. You being there isn't required."

"No," Hitoshi said immediately, looking down at his lap. "I'll come with."

"You can change your mind."

"It's alright," Hitoshi said, sighing and laying back again, resting his head against the pillow. Pushed under it was the plush toy Yamada had given him earlier, Hitoshi slipping a hand under the pillow to brush against it, hoping that Aizawa didn't catch him. "You said it doesn't matter what the outcome is, right? Earlier you said that I can still come back here. So it's fine."

"Yes, but putting your emotional health in jeopardy just so I can move your case along faster isn't something I want," Aizawa's voice was a little stronger, a little more solid, and Hitoshi understood that this was more of an instruction than anything. He pulled the blanket up further, letting his eyes fall shut, listening to Aizawa talk to him, "If you change your mind at any point about going, let me know."

"I will," Hitoshi told him quietly, already settling back into trying to sleep again.

A moment later, he felt something on the blanket, near his feet, patting around, and he realized that Aizawa was trying to give him some comfort. His hand eventually found him, settling, warm and heavy on his leg, and Hitoshi tried to fight the way his lips threatened to curl into a smile.