One Big, Messed Up, Loving Family
Shinso wanted his muzzle back on.
When he first met the pro heroes he hadn't known what to expect, but it most definitely wasn't to flip his whole world upside down like this. It's not as if he doesn't appreciate the gesture of taking his mask off, it's just so obvious how ignorant the heroes are. Do they not know who they're dealing with? Shinso's friends were some of the most dangerous people he knew, but Eraserhead had still believed that it was a good idea to take the quirk restraints off.
That's about the predicament they were in right now. Tsuyu and Ochako were taken into a room with pro heroes while Eraserhead stayed out here to "watch them", but Shinso didn't think they needed to be watched. They could take care of themselves.
The pro hero was sitting on one of the scratchy chairs with his eyes closed, but Shinso could always tell when someone wasn't actually sleeping. Spread around the hall were the rest of his friends, none of them looking quite relaxed with two of their members behind closed doors.
He hadn't heard a peep from behind the doors yet though, but we couldn't help but feel his eyes droop. Shinsou wasn't going to lie, he wished that he could've been in there with them, just to make sure that they were alright.
Luckily for him, his wish would be granted.
It was not but a moment after Shinsou started to nod off that there was an abrupt echoing of shouts coming from the door that Ochako was taken into. He knew this would happen, why would he trust the heroes? Didn't they know how dangerous their quirks were? Shinsou knew better than this!
Before he could even stand up Erasedhead had already bolted to his feet and was opening the door, Shinsou on his heels. As soon as he managed to push the capture hero's legs out of the way, Shinsou took in the scene in front of him.
Ochako's gloves were on the floor, fully exposing her crooked, blistered wrists. Shinsou had always known that the weighted gloves were way too heavy due to the way that she hunched her shoulders, but he had never seen them off before. They had obviously broken her wrists many times, all of which never healed quite right based on the way her palms jutted out at awkward angles. The material also must have been excruciating for chaffing, as there were red, oozing welts contrasting against her fair skin, which Shinsou would bet were infected.
Ochako wasn't focused on her hands though, and instead was looking up. Floating above her was none other than Present Mic himself, surrounded by other levitating objects, ranging in sizes, threatening to hit him. Tears poured down her contorted round face as her hands shook, unable to move.
The moment was still for a second, other than the objects, including Present Mic, wading through the air, before Eraserhead reacted and everything fell to the ground with a clang, with a few items making a suspicious cracking noise.
"Are you alr-"
"Ochako!"
Shinsou watched Eraserhead's jaw tighten with concern as Present Mic cut him off. Instead of answering his question, the blond hero scrambled to his knees and crouched down in front of Ochako. He held his hands out in front of him as if he wanted to touch her, but was restraining himself.
"Ochako! Oh, can you hear me? I'm so sorry! Are you okay? Ochako?"
She didn't answer and instead just continued crying, so Present Mic tried again, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to! I didn't- I wouldn't- Are you okay?"
Shinsou could feel the blood pounding in his ears. What did he do to her? He knew that it wasn't a good idea to trust these people, why was he so stupid? Why didn't he do anything?
Ochako hiccuped through her tears, "I- I'm sorry! I'm okay."
Present Mic's eyes widened at this, but before he could correct her Eraserhead spoke up, "Can someone please explain what's going on here?"
The blond hero's head snapped to Shinsou's and the capture hero's direction, noticing their presence for what seemed like the first time. He looked between them and the small girl in front of him a few times before taking a deep breath.
"I was helping to take her gloves off. The first one slipped off easily after I managed to unlock them, but the second one got stuck. I hadn't realized how wounded Ochako's wrists were and tugged too hard. I'm so sorry Ochako! I didn't mean to hurt you! I really didn't-"
The voice hero continued blubbering apologies to Ochako even though she had stopped crying. Shinsou took that moment to glance behind him at the open door to see that the rest of his siblings had all scooted closer to the door, all wanting to make sure she was okay.
Eraserhead sighed, bringing his attention back to the room, only to meet Ochako's eyes. They were still puffy and her round cheeks her still damp, but she didn't seem hurt. She gave him a smile and nod just to confirm that she was okay, so Shinsou returned it with a curt bob of his head before turning out of the room with the pro hero.
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POV: Aizawa
"She's okay everyone, you can all go back to what you were doing."
Aizawa watched as they all slowly turned their attention back to whatever games they were playing, Shinsou too leaving his side to join Izuku. He made note of the fact that he still managed not to speak the whole time, even though he had his muzzle off. Aizawa decided that it was a problem for later.
He had honestly expected more of them to be asleep by now, but he guessed that they were probably high on adrenaline. He couldn't relate though, as all Aizawa wanted to do was go to sleep. He had been resting, not actually sleeping of course, before the incident with Yamada and Ochako. Not to mention that Tsukauchi had brought him some coffee earlier, but it didn't do much since the flavor was on par with dirt.
He would probably pay to go lay down on the scratchy lobby chairs to catch a quick nap, but his plans were halted when he noticed Nemuri out of the corner of his eye.
She stood in front of a room with the door cracked, but she was blocking the view inside. What scared Aizawa the most however was how solemn her face grew. He has known her since high school, and even when she had bad news she would always try to hide it with a smile, especially when others were around. So it made no sense to him why were face had become so gray when she knew that there were kids in the room.
He met her troubled eyes, and she nodded her head to the door, gesturing him in. Realizing that he was probably not going to get a wink of sleep tonight, he entered, sneaking a glance behind him to see that most of the kids were staring at him.
The door closed behind him with a click as he tried to figure out what was wrong. The young girl who looked oddly frog-like sat on a chair, completely still. The ankles weights had been taken off of her legs and sat on the chair next to her. The skin around it had obviously been bruised and rubbed for far too long, looking similar to Ochako's wrists. The mask on her face had also been removed, and Aizawa still didn't know why she had one in the first place. Her mouth didn't seem strange to him, if only a tad wider than average, but nothing he would do a double-take for. The only strange thing about it was that he noticed that she spoke with a slight lisp earlier, but didn't think much about it.
Midnight pulled him into the corner, glanced at the frog-like girl once more, then turned away so that she couldn't see what they were talking about.
"What's going on?"
Nemuri shifted her weight a few times before sighing, "It's just that, well she just, they-" She couldn't seem to spit out what she wanted to say, so she gave up using words, "Let me just show you."
Softly walking over to the green-haired girl, she crouched down, "Hey Tsuyu, do you mind if you show Eraserhead here what you showed me?"
The girl looked up at the two pros, face turning a light shade of pink from the scrutiny, before opening her mouth.
Aizawa almost wanted to vomit. All of the muscles tensed in his body at the sight of it. Everything seemed to fall into place all at once when he saw what they had done to her.
The girl's tongue had been cut off. Not surgically, and most definitely not painlessly, as the end was red and oozing, incredibly infected with old stitches that were never removed. It was cut off at an awkward length too, short enough to fit in her mouth, but much too long to be the natural length. The mask, the lisp, the frog-quirk, Aizawa was mentally kicking himself for not guessing sooner.
He must have forgotten to hide his horror on his face, as it looked as if she was about to cry.
"T-They said that t-they couldn't hide it easily and that the mask w-wasn't e-enough. T-they didn't ask, they just put me in a r-room and- and-"
She couldn't finish, but Aizawa could guess the rest. His mind immediately went to the rest of the kids. What more has been done? What hasn't he noticed?
He could feel himself shaking. How badly has he messed up? How long have these kids been here? Why has no one done anything?
He noticed Nemuri and Tsuyu staring at him. It felt like the walls were closing in, he needed to breathe.
"I- I'll be back."
He pushed open the door, practically running down the hall, maneuvering around the wondering kids the best that he could. In the back of his mind he could hear the receptionist call out to him, but he could care less right now. He threw open the glass doors to the station, cold wind slamming him in the face, pushing his hair back. He lost track of time as he stood there, gasping in the burning air which rattled down his lungs.
Logically he knew that this was his first time on the route. It wasn't his fault. It couldn't be his fault. But that didn't change the fact it happened, and for years he has done nothing about it. How old were they? Five? Six? How many years has he walked down the area as a pedestrian and didn't notice? How many times have they been hurt when he went to go get coffee? Or on a date with Yamada?
"Nice night?"
He turned around to see his husband walking towards him, composed with a cup of coffee in hand. He twinged a little, thinking about how stupid he probably looked right now. Snow in his hair, shivering, while his husband had a warm smile on his face.
"Just wonderful."
Yamada handed Aizawa the steaming drink, and even though it tasted horrible earlier, now it might as well be magical.
"Nemuri filled me in. Tsuyu's alright, by the way."
Aizawa only hummed in acknowledgment as he felt his husband's arms wrap around him. He buried his head in his chest, listening to Yamada's soft heartbeat. He probably could have fallen asleep right then and there.
"What are we going to do about them? I mean, they need a home, and I doubt they'll want to be separated. Plus, the likelihood of someone wanting to adopt twenty troubled children is slim to none," Aizawa listened to his husband's words, trying to figure out where he was going with this. He already knew all this stuff, why was he repeating it now?
"Sho, I guess what I'm trying to say is that, well, I guess that we might be the only couple willing."
Aizawa pulled out of his arms abruptly, taking in what he was saying. It's not that they haven't talked about kids before, but they had decided that it might be too difficult right now because of their jobs. And yet here his husband was, standing with snow melting on his face, asking them to take on twenty children.
"Now, I know it's a big commitment, and I don't expect an answer right away, but-"
"Yes."
Aizawa didn't care about anything at all at that moment. He didn't care about the money, about the therapy, or even about the parenting classes that Yamada would most definitely drag him to. The only thing on his mind was how lucky he was to have a husband as wonderful as him.
Yamada looked like he wanted to say something else, but Aizawa slammed into him before he could, squeezing the life out of him. He could feel Yamada smile as he wrapped his arms around his cold body. They could do this. They were going to do this.
Despite their hero work, despite the circumstances, despite the danger, they were going to do it. They were going to have a family. One big, messed up, loving family.
Aizawa wouldn't have it any other way.