Prompt 38, MHA
Sunlight shone into the room, raining bright spots across the faces of its four inhabitants. Two matched the aura of the day, happily coexisting in their kitchen. Little feet kicked back and forth, drumming erratic patterns against the legs of a chair that was taller than its occupant, while a heavier set of footsteps danced around the room. A cheery, upbeat song played, the two singing along far louder than was strictly necessary.
Pans clattered against the top of the stove, the sweet smell of apples and cinnamon emanating from pancakes flipped in the air by expert hands. Childish cheering broke the song every time they landed back into the pan, hands clapping together enthusiastically.
Yamada began the chorus loudly, a spatula serving as his microphone. He alternated between using it himself and holding it out to Eri, who sang along while laughing. Her sleeves slipped down to cover her hands as she grabbed for the handle, light blue fabric covered in dancing unicorns with fur the same color as her hair, a silvery white that reflected the sunlight. Yamada handed her a batter-covered spoon with a wink, shushing her with a smile and a glance toward the living room. She giggled, using the spoon as her own microphone in between licks.
Those in the living room were more subdued, the only show of their enjoyment in the sly smiles that they hid behind their coffee mugs. The two were almost mirror images, hands stroking the cats on their laps in sync, uncaring of the fur that stuck to their palms. Both had messy hair, knotted and frizzy, sticking up in all different directions. Even the eyebags under their eyes matched, dark purply-black swipes across the top of their cheeks. The only real difference was their ages and coloration, the teen sporting lilac purple hair, while the elder’s was a much calmer black.
Yamada laughed at the sight, his own hair falling straight and neat down his back, not yet gelled into its signature spike. He pulled his phone from his pocket to snap a picture before either could move, only laughing louder at the identical glares he received in return.
“Come on Shou, Shinsou, You two look almost identical, I can see the father-son resemblance. Nem will love this!”
Aizawa's glowing red eyes and furrowed brows didn’t deter him as he quickly pressed send, yelping as his husband lunged at him, having gently placed his respective cat onto the couch alongside Hitoshi. The boy only blinked, blankly watching them run through the kitchen. His lips quirked up as sweet giggles sounded, Eri cheering on both men, while waving her spoon around wildly. Flecks of batter flew from it, and she shoved it back into her mouth to prevent losing any more.
Hitoshi stood slowly, untangling himself from his veritable cocoon of blankets (he would have stayed if his lap hadn’t been vacated in favor of the two cats curling together on the couch, he wasn’t a monster). He ran a hand through his hair, sipping from his coffee as he joined his sister at the counter. Their third cat rubbed along his legs as he walked, nudging him towards the stove. He grimaced upon seeing the half-cooked pancakes, a partially-full bowl of batter sitting on the counter.
“Yamada-sensei, the pancakes!”
There was a sharp shriek and the sound of frantic footsteps. In a single blink, Hitoshi found himself at the counter along with Aizawa and Eri. He was unsure of how they had gotten moved there, considering that he had been at the stove only moments before, and Aizawa somewhere else entirely. Cooking wizardry, he decided, narrowing his eyes at Yamada, who was now back to leaning over the stove.
“I keep telling you, you can drop the ‘sensei,’ listener!”
“And I keep telling you that if I drop it in class, Todoroki will never shut up about me being a secret lovechild. I’ll leave dealing with that up to Midoriya, thanks. Plus, it’s fun watching him try to explain why All Might isn’t his father.” He sighed, contentedly taking another deep sip of his coffee. He blinked slowly in thanks as Aizawa filled it back up.
Eri wrinkled her nose, eying the pot with suspicion as she pulled her apple juice closer. She had tried coffee once, out of curiosity, and now despised it with a surprising amount of vigor for a seven-year-old. She took a sip of her own drink, as if checking to make sure they hadn't tainted it somehow, perking up as Yamada spun around, now with a full plate of pancakes balanced against his chest. He hummed to himself as he put them down, handing Eri her own plate with four smaller pancakes.
Hitoshi wasn’t surprised when Eri immediately drowned the pancakes in syrup, although he did laugh when she shoved a too-big bite into her mouth, creating a joker-smile made of the liquid sugar. Aizawa reached out with a napkin, wiping it off before it fell onto her nightgown, earning him a “thank you” through Eri’s mouthful of food.
Shinsou picked at his own pancakes. Despite how good they smelled, he could only bring himself to stomach a few bites before pushing the plate away.
“Something bothering you?” Aizawa asked. It was less of a question and more of a statement, the man far too perceptive for Shinsou to play off his nervousness. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of it, he felt he had every right to be nervous. After all-
“Just… worried about how today will go. I mean, I don’t know if they’ll want me in their class as an actual hero student. I haven't been through half of what they have, I don't have nearly as much experience.” He sighed, picking up his fork to idly stab at the fluffy pancakes in front of him. “I know I’ve sat in on class a few times, but never as a full-fledged hero student. There's- there's a difference.”
Aizawa nodded, understanding easily visible. Of course he would get it, he was the only one in recent history to have been in Shinsou’s position. Both succeeding in the Sports festival, moved from general studies to the hero course. Granted, Shinsou’s transfer had taken a bit longer even with Aizawa fighting for him the whole way. And the class Aizawa transferred into hadn't been through multiple villain attacks. But it was still similar, at least.
“You’ll be fine. The Problem Child has already forcibly befriended you, Todoroki already has theories, and Bakugo no longer tries to explode you on sight. You’re practically part of the class already, all that’s changing is your uniform.”
“But still-”
“No worrying listener!” A hand landed on his back, firmly patting between his shoulder blades. “You’ll fit right in with the rest of the hellions!”
“No bad language around the child!” Shinsou scolded, drawing them off topic. He could tell that Aizawa noted the change of subject for what it was -a distraction- but it got them off of his transfer for now. He'd take any distraction he could manage at this point, his anxiety was going haywire and a panic attack was not how he wanted to start his first day as an actual hero student.
Yamada let out a startled shriek as Aizawa smacked him lightly on the back of the head.
“Yeah, Zashi. Not around the child, she’s impressionable.” He patted Eri on the head, covering her ears with mock protectiveness. Eri giggled, batting at his hands and sticking out her tongue.
“You say worse when you stub your toe in the middle of the night,” She informed him, genuinely stern in the way that only children can be. The sight of Aizawa covering his heart in mock offense and the sound of Yamada’s loud laughter made Shinsou laugh as well. Sometimes he wondered if Eri had a second calming quirk, tension easing as his worries faded away, at least for now.
1-A would be fine. It was nothing he hadn’t already handled. And besides, who were they to judge him- the feral Pomeranian needed serious anger management, he had a literal explosive personality, and bird boy talked like an old-timey goth poet. He was hardly the weirdest member of the class. Plus, after Mineta, he doubted any of the girls would want to complain. Even the thought of Mineta made him shudder- that guy had been a total creep. He couldn’t have picked a better person to replace.
He was snapped from his musing- he really needed to stop getting caught in his head, it was probably the lack of sleep- by something poking his side. He looked down to see Eri grinning, already out of her chair. She giggled and took off, bare feet slapping against the hardwood. He wrinkled his nose, before noticing that the pancakes on his plate had disappeared.
“The betrayal,” he said, blank faced. He took one last drink of his coffee, throwing his head back to drain it. Setting it down with a clink, he moved on to pulling his hair back (yes, he’d grown it out after Aizawa decided to train him, no this wasn’t ‘love child’ behavior, Todoroki, it was just logical) and stood.
“Uh oh. Looks like someone’s awakened the tickle monster,” he deadpanned, walking slowly after Eri. She screeched as he walked into the living room, diving under a blanket on the couch and pulling it up over her head. Her horn was still clearly visible through the fabric, poking up in a distinct cone.
“Hm, where might little Eri be…” He shuffled around the room for a minute, until her muffled giggles started sounding from under the blanket. He grabbed the edge and whipped it off of her, giving her a second before he descended, tickling her sides as she squealed and whacked at him, beating his hands away as the two both laughed.
Shinsou was amazed at how far she’d come already. Already the terror that had tainted her actions was fading, replaced with trust and genuine joy. He would have never tried this for the first year she was with them, too afraid of triggering her from her time with Overhaul. Not for the last time, he both wished he could personally skin the man alive while thanking him for bringing Eri into their lives. She was the balm to all three of their jaded souls.
At the same time, his little sister reminded him so much of himself. She wasn’t unscarred by her past, still there were obvious remnants of her trauma. They wouldn’t go away anytime soon, but at least they had faded. The terror to talk and act after she had been rescued, her immediate attachment to the first people who had shown her kindness and fear of everyone else. Midoriya and Mirio were still her favorites, but they weren’t the only ones she would cling to. She didn’t hesitate as much to ask for things, and overall acted like the child she was. She no longer hesitated to find someone after she woke up from a nightmare, and they had finally gotten her to stop seeing her quirk as a curse.
There would be more recovery to come, but for now he would focus on the joy, how far they'd come. The squealing giggles she made as he tickled her sides, how she grabbed at him to return the favor, the snorting he could hear from their (parents? mentors?) in the background.
As the two tussled on the couch, eventually toppling to the floor (Eri carefully positioned as to land on Shinsou’s chest) Aizawa and Yamada watched on. Yamada had pulled out his phone, recording for a couple of minutes and snapping enough pictures to overwhelm his storage. Aizawa smiled fondly at his husband, having already taken his own photos, reaching out to take his hand. Their kids were getting the childhoods that they had never gotten to have, and they would enjoy it for as long as it lasted. (This wasn't him getting soft. It wasn't. It was just him wanting his kids to be able to relax and build their mental strength. That's it.) As polar opposite as the two seemed, in this moment they matched, small, contented smiles lighting up their faces.
These were their kids, their family, and nothing was going to change that anytime soon.