Old Habits Die Hard
POV Aizawa:
The rest of the quirk manipulation came off relatively easily. Well, as easy as it could get with a group of tired kids. Even Tenya allowed Yamada to take off his engine caps eventually, despite his meltdown from earlier.
It was well past midnight by now, most of the kids were sprawled across the room sleeping or anxiously chatting. He noticed that they did that a lot when they thought that he wasn’t looking, shifting eyes and hushed conversations. Aizawa knew that he didn’t fully have their trust, but that was just something that he was going to have to work towards.
If Aizawa was being honest, he was still coming down from the high of his conversation with Yamada. Were they really going to take all of these kids home? They didn’t even know if they had biological parents somewhere, but Aizawa guessed that if they ended up in a place like the orphanage they probably didn’t want their kids back.
Most of the kids didn’t talk to him as he took off the suppressants, they just stared. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. Some of them seemed bewildered, fascinated even at his very presence, but others didn’t want anything to do with him. The latter gnawed on his mind, what if they hated him? What if they didn’t want to be adopted by him and Yamada? Aizawa guessed that he could have them be adopted by other couples, but would the kids want to be separated? There were too many possibilities.
None the less they would have to spend the night at his house. Or mansion, he should say. At least spreading out wouldn’t be a problem.
Getting there would be a feat in itself. The kids were either dead sleep or barely keeping their eyes open, so hopefully they would cooperate.
“Alright, the bus is all ready to go!”
Nemuri walked into the hall, wiping snow flurries off of her shoulders. She had offered to go ahead and start the hot air so that the frigid ride would be bearable.
Aizawa was about to go get Yamada to ask him to help, but there was a tug on his sleeve,”Where are we going?”
Looking down he saw Ochako Uraraka. She had fallen asleep after her ordeal earlier, almost instantly. Aizawa would be lying if he said that he hadn’t been at least a little worried. He knew how conditioned they had become to hating their quirks, so activating it probably took a lot out of her.
“We’re going to my house.”
Her eyes got wide at this,”You have a house? I didn’t know heroes had houses!”
Aizawa didn’t know what to say. Usually when fans approach him he just keeps walking. He had a job to do, and that doesn’t include being a superstar, even if Yamada would chastise him about it.
“Um, yes. We have houses.”
She just stared at him, starstruck, still grasping his sleeve. Luckily Yamada came to save him,”Alrighty kiddos, bus time!”
Most of the kids woke up at this, pulling her heads up from where they napped, rubbing their eyes.
It was going to be an exhausting ride, so they might as well get going.
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Yamada couldn’t stop himself glancing at his husband on the ride there.
If he was being honest, he wasn’t even sure if Shouta even wanted this. He had never been a people-person, was never out-going, and spent most of his time at home unless he was doing hero work. It was out of left-field for him to so willingly accept the idea of adopting kids, twenty at that. And yet here they were, pulling up to the mansion that Shouta didn’t want either, to bring those kids into their life.
It’s not that he’s second-guessing adopting them, he meant what he said. He and Shouta were the best option out there for them. But he couldn’t help but be apprehensive about this, what if Shouta was caught up in the moment? Or misunderstood what he had said? Every second that they rolled down the pavement, nearing the house, they were one step closer to changing their future, for better or worse.
His attention was brought to the back of the bus, as a blanket of gasps and excitement filled the air. The kids were all peering through the windows, pushing into each other to get a better look. This was probably the first time they have seen a house, a mansion at that, in years.
“Time to get out, everyone!”
Nemuri called out to the kids, who shifted their attention from the windows to shuffling out of their seats. Yamada waited until they were all in a single file line, slowly stepping their way out of the bus before following in the rear.
Even though he had lived in this house for years, seeing it still gave him butterflies. The long stone pathway leading out of the driveway expanded out into a ring, having a water feature in the middle, which glittered in the luminescent lights that had been placed under the water. The greenery around was trimmed, not a leaf out of place, with buds of pink roses sprouting out of them, perfuming the air with a flowery scent. The pebbled road had lights spread out at each side, turning on as you walked close to them, illuminating the way as you travel towards the doors. The house itself was a pearly white, with columns seemingly holding the whole thing up as tall tinted windows framed the building, cascading inner yellow lights upon them.
If the house still gave Yamada chills, he couldn’t imagine what the kids were thinking at the sight of it.
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POV: Momo
Momo wasn’t sure how to feel when she saw the house. Sure, it was beautiful, Momo hadn’t seen anything like it in a long time, but it reminded her of home.
The fountain, the columns, it was familiar. Too familiar. She could practically imagine her old gardeners tending to the bushes as she walked on by.
She couldn’t explain why, but as she approached the doors she felt her heart speed up. Why was she so nervous? She trusted the pro heroes, well, at least more than before. Nothing bad was going to happen, yet dread loomed over her as the pebbled walkway crunched under her feet. It was all too familiar. What if they forced her to make things? This might be some trick, some stunt to use her quirk. Why else would they bring her to a house so similar to her parent’s one?
As the line halted in front of her she realized that there was nothing that she could do now. Eraserhead had pulled out a key and was unlocking the door already, leaving no time for Momo to process what was happening as the rest of her siblings shuffled in with wonder.
The inside was almost more grand than the outside. Everything seemed to shimmer with a golden tint, warm yellow lights flooding her eyes. The white marbled floor even seemed welcoming as it opened up to a winding staircase which split into two parts to create an indoor balcony. There were statues and pictures around, with elaborately painted vases sprouting more glossy pink roses that adorned the arching entrances to more rooms.
Most of her siblings weren’t even moving, maybe not even breathing at the sight. Even though she had seen mansions before, this still impressed her. She had no idea heroes made so much money.
Speaking of heroes, she turned her attention to her left, where Eraserhead and Present Mic were quietly chatting with Midnight. She quite liked them. She was still a little worried about being tricked into using her quirk, but Present Mic told her no one was going to make her do anything again. She trusted him.
Midnight must’ve seen her staring at the three, as she suddenly winked at Momo and gave her a wave before slipping out of the door. Momo had assumed that all pro-heroes lived together, and that’s why they needed such a big house, but the only there were only two left.
The two pros murmured to each other a few more times before the blonde one turned to the mass of kids, “How about I take you all on a tour while Eraserhead cooks up some yummy food?”
A collective tone of agreement rose from the kids as they followed the man up the stairs that seemed to never end.
The second story was full of bedrooms. The long corridor seemed to disappear the farther it went on, almost feeling enchanted. Peering into one of them there wasn’t much to it, a large bed by the wall, a desk, and a wardrobe. A plain off-white was coated onto the walls that surrounded a large clear window that allowed the moonlight into the bedroom.
“These are going to be your bedrooms. They’re pretty boring right now, but we’ll get some decorations as soon as we can!”
The confirmation of bedrooms most definitely confused Momo and everyone else. Mina, always the brave one, spoke up,”Sir, how are we all supposed to fit into one bedroom?”
The pro hero looked at Mina, then at everyone else, who was expecting an answer from him. She had a good point, there was no way that they could all fit into one of these rooms. The orphanage had a bigger room to hold everyone, even if they didn’t all have beds.
“One bedroom? You kids get your own each, we have plenty of them.”
Our own bedroom? Momo could hardly remember the last time she had that. Even if she had one at her old house, she never spent time there. She was always needed for something.
Looking around she noticed that she had never seen her siblings smile like this before. Some were laughing, others were hugging. They seemed to get more excited by the minute.
Next on the tour were the bathrooms, then the living room, and the dining room, so on and so forth. After a while, it all seemed to blend into one. Her siblings started to get rowdier too, which worried her. She didn’t want to make the pro-heroes mad. But that anger never came, in fact, it seemed to be that the more excited they got the happier Present Mic became.
Eventually, they ended up back at the bottom of the stairs, the smell of hot food directing them to the only room they had yet to see: the kitchen.
The kitchen might have been even grander than the entrance hall in Momo’s opinion. While the rest of the house was a shimmering gold and white, the kitchen was painted a dark gray. The cabinets had square sheets of glass on them, outlined by a matte gray that reached to the tall ceiling. The island in the middle was covered in black granite, and to its left was a muted white table with rows of chairs that sat next to a white-bricked accent wall with a crackling fireplace.
Fitting right into the scenery was Eraserhead. If Momo had to guess, Present Mic decorated the rest of the house while he got the reins for the kitchen. He was setting the table with bowls of steaming Ramen with a side of rice cake, Momo counted twenty-two bowls.
He looked up and gave a rough, but peaceful smile,”Dinner’s ready, feel free to dig in.”
The sound of scooting chairs echoed around the tall room as everyone sat down. For a moment nothing happened, no one stirred as they stared at the food. Hot food. Normally the food that they gave was stale, cold, and mushy. Not that Momo is complaining, food was food and she should be grateful for it, but this certainly was an upgrade.
The smell of the chicken ramen made her think of home. Her old home, before the orphanage. Before her parents started using her for her quirk. But now she couldn’t help but feel her stomach churn at the sight of it. The transparent yellow soup looked rotten, the noodles slimy and crunchy. Logically she knew that they weren’t, everyone else around her was eating just fine, but she couldn’t bring herself to pick up her chopsticks.
How much food has she choked down before? She’s eaten so much just so her quirk could perform, just so she could be beneficial to someone. She didn’t want to eat this. She didn’t want to eat anything. Her stomach was growling, but vomit was rising in her throat at the thought of food in her mouth. She wanted to stop breathing, to stop inhaling its fumes. Slowly she lifted her wooden chopsticks and brought the pasta to her lips. She tried to convince herself that she could do it. She kept it in her mouth and closed her eyes, attempting to keep her nausea down. Momo’s eyes started to water as if the air was toxic, they went to all this effort just to make food for her, and she didn’t even have the decency to swallow it. She couldn’t spit it back out, that would be rude, so she had no choice but to take it. Painfully she felt it slide down her throat, sending chills down her spine. She had stuffed herself for others before. Momo tried to imagine Miss Emiri, how disappointed she would be in her for not being able to stomach one noodle, but it didn’t work.
As politely as she could she put her chopsticks down, hoping that Eraserhead and Present Mic wouldn’t punish her.
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POV: Aizawa
Aizawa noticed Momo’s struggle. It pained him that she wasn’t eating, but her flushed face was enough to tell him that she was feeling nauseous. He’d offer her some stomach medicine later, but hopefully it will have settled down by then.
Instead, his attention was shifted to Ochako. While he understood Momo’s nausea, Ochako’s habits were even weirder. She kept shifting, eating a few noodles only to put her chopsticks down again and glancing around. He also noticed that her rice cake was blatantly missing, and he knows that there was no way she ate it so fast.
He was worried that it was because of her hands. The weights on her gloves had been too heavy, causing them to be mangled. She didn’t say that she was in severe pain or complain in any way, but he couldn’t just ignore it.
None the less he decided not to mention anything. The room’s only noise was the slurping of the hot food, and Aizawa was grateful that they made it so far. In the back of his head, he realized that this is the first time they were eating as a family, so there was no way he was going to interrupt that with a pointless interrogation, especially since he wasn’t sure. He’ll ask about it after dinner.
The kids finished their food quickly with the exception of Momo’s full bowl, but that could be discussed later. Aizawa guessed that if they weren’t tired before they were now, especially with full bellies.
“It’s probably about time that we head to bed. Did everyone pick out a room?”
A flurry of yeses echoed in response as the chairs once again scooted from the table. His husband silently decided to take care of the dishes himself since most of the kids looked like they were about to drop. It was well past midnight now.
They traveled in a line up the stairs, but his attention was brought back to Ochako. She walked stiffly, her hands stuffed into her dirty pockets. He definitely couldn’t ignore it now, and followed behind the kids.
He felt bad that he had no extra pajamas to offer them. He could give them some of his shirts, but they’d probably just slide off of their shoulders. He made a mental plan to go shopping tomorrow, for both room decorations and new clothes. Hell, anything they wanted. Aizawa just wanted them to be happy.
Hesitantly all of them slipped into their picked-out rooms, still not believing that had their own. Aizawa pinpointed Ochako at the end of the hall and made his way down, gently knocking twice before opening the door.
Ochako violently slammed the drawer to her bedside table, whipping around and staring at him with owl-eyes.
He thought he might as well start simple, reminding her of the restraint wounds too quickly might trigger her.
“Hi, Ochako. Is everything alright?”
She quickly bobbed her head as she pressed her back into the drawer, trying to protect whatever was inside. Thoughts ran through his mind of what possessions she had. They had taken the gloves and gave them to Detective Tsukauchi as evidence, so it wasn’t those. Aizawa truly couldn’t think of any objects she could possibly have.
“Is there anything you want to talk about?”
A shake of the head. Aizawa knew how to read body language, and Ochako definitely wasn’t trying to hide that she wanted him out of the room. She shifted her weight from one foot to another, glancing at the door, back to him, then at the ground.
He wanted nothing more than to press. To just open the drawer and see what she was hiding from him, but he knew it didn’t work that way. He couldn’t invade her privacy, she’s had enough of that in her life, and if she was really in pain he had to trust that she would speak up for herself.
Sighing, he decided to let it go,”Okay then, goodnight Ochako. Do you need anything before I leave?”
One more shake of the head, and then he exited, shutting the door behind him. He couldn’t expect these kids to open up to him on the first day. He simply had to trust the process.
Quietly he tiptoed his way to his bedroom, only to find Hizashi already in bed. Technically he was still in his hero clothes and desperately needed to shower, but none of that seemed necessary right now. Flopping down next to his snoring husband he tried to ease his mind as he dozed off.
This definitely wasn’t going to be easy.