Archive of Our Own ^beta

If you asked Hitoshi, he didn't ask to be adopted by Present Mic and Eraserhead. He had been taken to the station after a woman with a mutant quirk and her wife found him muzzled and covered in bruises. Then Present Mic pulled out his emergency foster license and now he was living with them for a bit.

Shouta didn't mind taking care of cats, but a whole ass child? He pulled his husband to the side, a frown on his face. "Honey, I thought we agreed no kids." Hizashi and his stupidly kissable face had the audacity to pout like Shouta kicked one of their cats.

"You didn't tell me when you brought Bastard home, payback." He jokes.

"'Zashi, this is a whole child. I can barely take care of myself. Did you even read his file?"

"He's been muzzled his whole life after his parents died." Hizashi's eyes softened. So that's why. This was personal to his husband.

"Still, you should have talked to me before-" their miniature argument is snapped out by the child in question, and god he's so small.

"Let's get this over with." Shinsou sounds defeated. Hizashi smiles at him too warmly, and god, the ones with the warmest smiles were the quickest to shove the muzzle onto his face. He carries his backpack to the car and denies the blonde man any offers at help whatsoever.

"We will be talking about this later, Hizashi."

When they get home, Hitoshi merely shrugs off the attempts at conversation, leaving his backpack by the room, fully packed with whatever he can bring other than his pajamas which reeked of cigarette smoke.

He wonders how long it will take for them to turn on him. Weeks? Days? Hours? Hell, the minute he stepped outside the room would they be waiting for him with a muzzle in hand? He keeps his old muzzle in his backpack, might as well save them the trouble, right? Of course the stupid officer took the one the last family gave him. He steps out to the balcony and opens his pack of cigarettes. He knows his bio parents told him not to do anything to damage his voice and that he was blessed, but that was before the crash. Since then it was a curse, a villain's quirk.

He lights one up and lets out a puff of smoke. The annoying knock throws him out of the sweet release of nicotine.

"Hey, little listener. Are you gonna come down for dinner?" Now, if he ignored him, he'd be caught smoking, and they'd probably be those assholes to take his cigarettes away.

"Not hungry." He grumbles, and that does the trick because he can hear his footsteps, he's good at that now. He finishes his cigarette and puts it out on the railing. He waits until it's not a fire hazard anymore before putting the butt in a zip lock baggie so he can throw it away before school.

He grabs the muzzle and puts it on loosely enough so he can take it off himself, but the muzzle is still far too small and it stings. He lays down to go to sleep, but when he's about to, he can hear the two pros across the hallway arguing.

"Sho, he's a traumatized child! We can't just let him age out of the foster system!"

"He isn't our responsibility."

"He is now!"

"I didn't ask to have a child thrust upon me, Hizashi!"

"I know everything has been different since Oboro died but-"

"So you're making this about my trauma?"

"That's not-"

"If anybody's projecting their trauma Hizashi, it's you!"

"All I was saying is that you never wanted kids since Oboro died and you stopped taking care of yourself!"

"You saw a child with a muzzle, a child we are in no way able to care for, and took him in without asking!"

"Just because you can't take care of yourself doesn't mean I can't raise him, Shouta! Do you want to be part of this kid's life or not?"

"I wouldn't have had to make that choice, I shouldn't have had to! I said I wasn't ready! It's not my fault you were muzzled, Hizashi, but that doesn't give you the right to see your trauma in this child and thrust him into our lives without notice!"

"Okay, I'll just sleep on the fucking couch then, Shouta, since I'm unbearable to be around right now!" Hitoshi winces as he hears the door slam, and he can hear the blonde crying to himself from downstairs. Sure, his cheer was annoying, but those sobs were the ugliest thing he never wanted to hear again. They sounded foreign.

Hitoshi doesn't sleep that night.

Two months, and nobody else wants to foster him, so he's still stuck with these pro heroes. He really hasn't warmed up to them much, and the black haired one still seems as disgruntled as ever by the fact there's a child here he didn't ask for. He could always run away, but then he'd be stuck in the system, and he admits, only wearing the muzzle to sleep after a smoke is much more comfortable than wearing it 24/7. Hitoshi only joins them to eat twice a week, and he knows the blonde is concerned.

Also, he's put a strain on their marriage and he knows it. He can't sleep and most nights, and he'll sit upon the stairway and watch as one or the other sleeps on the couch, their faces stained with tears regardless of who. The fights are always, always about him. It felt weirdly intimate and not something he should be seeing. Also since then, he started smoking more and he couldn't really understand why. It's not like he cared, right?

So here he is, sitting on the balcony with the desk chair he dragged out, taking a deep drag of the cigarette. He's crying but he can't pinpoint why. It's all some lie. He's lost in his thoughts and the haze of the cigarette smoke, self hatred bubbling beneath his skin and crawling out his mouth in a scream he can't let out. He doesn't hear the door open up, but he does feel his chair being yanked to face the door and he does hear the ravenette yelling.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He's never heard him this angry unless arguing with his husband. "Put it out."

"Or else what?" Hitoshi sneers, and he can feel the rage. Good. Let it out on him. He's probably wanted to beat him the shit out of him the second he intruded in their lives. Except he just... sighs disappointedly. Oh, that's worse. That's far worse than being smacked across the room. He feels guilty and puts it out on the balcony.

"You're grounded." Hitoshi almost laughs. What friends? What social life? Where else does he go other than school?

"What gives you the right? You're not my father!" Shouta flinches a little bit but glares.

"No, but I am caring for you, and I said you are grounded for smoking!"

Hitoshi merely flips him off.

Listen, it was a spur of the moment thing. Being caught smoking and the formerly happily married couple being thrown into ruins all because of an impulsive decision by the blonde, Hitoshi realizes he's the problem. He refuses to join them for dinner that night, he can feel the tension radiating off the blonde, also probably wanting to rip into him for smoking. He pretends to go to sleep early, he's never slept earlier, but lying isn't as easy as it used to be.

He waits until he's almost certain they're asleep before he grabs his backpack, completely ignoring his previous day's clothing. He puts the muzzle on himself, and jumps off the balcony. He breaks his fall into a roll and walks. His heart twists, telling him he's making an ugly mistake, but he knows it's always only a matter of time, and if they're too cowardly to muzzle him themselves, he'll do them the favor.

He isn't sure where he's going, but he keeps walking. He walks until his feet can't anymore and sits at the park bench. He thinks until his brain hurts doing so. No money to his name, utterly exhausted, and ran away from the home he tore apart. They'll probably be happy he's gone and immediately fix their marriage. Since the concept that there were troubles before he came into the picture is absolutely unfathomable to him.

He lies down on the bench and cries himself to sleep. He's so hungry, he really should have ate with them before he ran off. He knows they won't come looking for him. They never do. The thought that they won't look for him hurts more than it usually did. It's almost as if he's making a mistake.

He cries himself to sleep on the bench while his heart twists for something he keeps wishing to have.

It's 4 in the morning when Shouta gets the phone call from the Detective. He sits up from the couch, wheelchair nearby in case he needs something and putting on his prosthetic is too much work. He almost falls when he gets the news.

"We have Hitoshi Shinsou at our station. We found him on the park bench about an hour away." He doesn't bother putting on his prosthetic as Hizashi is running.

"Oh my god, Sho! Hitoshi ran away!" He's sobbing. "Why would he do such a thing?" Shouta wants to say something but... he's tired. He's tired of crying himself to sleep on the couch after fighting with his husband. He's tired of therapy. He's tired of being unhappy. He just wants his life back. He wants his happy husband back. "This is all my fault!" He's wailing now.

"Hon, he's okay, I promise. He's at the station."

"I still bit off more than I could chew!"

"I wasn't exactly supportive, 'Zashi." He sighs, and it took the kid running away for him to realize that. Not therapy, not the fights, and that thought hurts Shouta more than the fights. "We both fucked up." Silence rings through the air and it's utterly suffocating. He wheels himself to the car, both men still in their pajamas while Hizashi drives to the station. Shouta practically slams the button to open the door before he's wheeling himself into the station, Hizashi barely able to catch up.

"Where is he?" Shouta practically demands, and the poor receptionist flounders for a second before Hizashi explains that they're here for Hitoshi. She leads them to another waiting room, and Hizashi flinches as he sees a recent outline of a muzzle.

"Before you take him home, I have to ask you both a few questions." The detective says and pulls them into a room. "He was found muzzled." The couple flinched, and Shouta grips his husband's hand while he sobs. "Did you know anything about this?" Hizashi sobs.

"No! How could anybody do that?!" Shouta's heart twists and he remembers ever single argument they had. The cruel words he said to Hizashi ringing through his head.

"I just had to be sure. We took away the muzzle, but we'll cross reference what is said."

They sit there for what seems to be forever until the doors open an Hitoshi is walking through. Hizashi runs over and hugs him.

"I was so worried about you!" He sobs, and Hitoshi grimaces. He was... missed? They waited here for him? "Why did you run away?" He's sobbing as he holds Hitoshi, and Shouta realizes he'd also like to hug Hitoshi. He wheels over to them and leans forward to hug Hitoshi. "Why did you muzzle yourself?" Hitoshi tries to look anywhere but them when he answers.

"I was expecting you to do it when you got mad but... you never did, so I did it myself."

"Oh, kiddo. We'd never hurt you like that."

"I don't get it. I thought you'd want me gone!" Hitoshi starts crying. "Nobody wants me! I ruined your marriage!" It's Shouta's turn to look sadly between his husband and Hitoshi.

"Look, two months ago was different. I... said some things to my husband that I shouldn't have said. I was an asshole, kid, but I promise. You did not ruin our marriage. We had some problems and we're working on them, like adults should." He takes his husband's hand through the awkward hug. "We both have some unresolved issues that we needed to see someone about. I know it hasn't been made obvious, but we'd like you to stay with us, if you want. You don't have to call us your parents or whatever. You can do that when you're ready, if you are." Hitoshi nods slowly through his tears. "You can also join us in therapy if you like, as a... as a family." Shouta smiles. Hitoshi starts crying again, but it's happy tears.

"Yeah, I'd like that."