Archive of Our Own ^beta

Catastrophes and Companions

I.

The first time Shota has a cat is when he's eight years old.

He doesn't have it for very long. He shouldn't have expected anything else, though. Not that he had expectations when he saved the kitten. It was just the right thing to do.

The kids tormenting the little thing weren't from his school. He would track down their school later, writing down all the details of their uniforms as soon as he had an opportunity and comparing it to online photos of school uniforms from different districts. But when he first encounters them, all he knows is that there are three of them, one of him, and that they're hurting a creature who can't fight back.

Shota can fight back.

It's something he learned how to do young and learned how to do well. His mother taught him some; his grandfather taught him more. It was what they could offer him, something they could give him that couldn't be snatched away by the fickleness of economics or the changing patterns of society. If someone hits you, know how to hit them back; if someone tries to kick your legs out from under you, dodge the attack and then do it better.

The other kids aren't older than him, but they're built along thicker lines. That and their advantage in numbers makes them over-confident. They laugh when he charges at them, despite the fact that he's not making any noise, not doing anything that would imply he doesn't know exactly what he's doing.

The first one is gushing blood from his nose before he realizes this is a real fight. His friends try to go after Shota more seriously once that happens, but Shota isn't going to let them make him their next target of assault. He uses his speed and the fact that they're cheating, trying to use their Quirks despite it being illegal, to keep himself out of their hands.

Before four minutes are up the fight is done, the assailants running off to lick their wounds, calling insults over their shoulders. Shota's cheek is bleeding, from a scratch he doesn't remember getting, and his knuckles and wrists hurt from taking impacts they're not used to, but he's largely unscathed.

The kitten that he saved is another matter. The little thing is a ball of grey fluff, and it hisses at him when he tries to pick it up. One leg is obviously badly damaged, the foot turned at an unnatural angle, and when it tries to hobble away it stops. Instead it huddles against the side of the building, watching him with wide green eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He probably shouldn't bother trying to talk to something that can't talk back. It's childish, a habit left over from talking to stuffed animals and fictional characters. It makes him feel better as he sits with his hand out, waiting to see if the little creature will let him help it or not.

It takes him over an hour, but he eventually coaxes the kitten into his arms and carries it home to safety.

A very temporary safety, but safety nonetheless.

"Shota..." His mother stares at him in horrified fascination when he walks in the door. "What did you do?"

Shota reaches up to touch where beads of blood dripped down his cheek. He had forgotten about it while working with the kitten. "Nothing important. Just scratched myself trying to get this to safety."

The kitten is huddled tight to his clothes, the claws of its good legs sunk in as deep as they will go. It doesn't look at his mother, but it does purr nervously when Shota tries to shift its position.

"That's a cat." His mother's eyes move from his cheek to the cat, and Shota isn't sure which horrifies her more. "Oh, hon, we can't. I'm sorry, but—is it injured?"

Shota nods. "I think its leg is broken. It needs to go to a doctor."

His mother doesn't cry. That's something that's been true all of Shota's life. When they heard his father wasn't coming home, when she lost her job, when Shota's Quirk manifested in a way that wasn't immediately and obviously useful—she never cries. She just stands there, breathing, staring at the problem with a little furrow between her brows while she tries to figure out what to do. She does that now, staring at him with his bloody face and his kitten that he can't keep.

"All right." She speaks slowly, then faster as the ideas clearly come together. "All right. We can't keep it, but if it needs help... we can find something to feed it tonight. There's some left-over fish, and we can put water in a bowl... and tomorrow we find someone who can afford to take care of it. Someone who can take it to the vet and get it properly looked at. All right?"

The kitten is purring against him, and Shota shifts, his arms holding it just a little closer. He doesn't put too much pressure on it, though. He doesn't want to hurt it. And not hurting it means he will have to give it away, to someone who can take better care of it. "All right. Thank you."

His mother comes forward, wrapping him and the kitten he's carrying in a gentle embrace. "I'm sorry, Shota. I wish... it's going to be for the best, though. That way you can work on your schoolwork, and when things are better... when things are better we'll get you a cat that's not damaged, all right?"

He nods, though he doesn't care that this kitten is damaged. All he cares about is that he managed to save it, and that it trusts him enough to let him help.

They find a nice old couple to take the kitten in. Shota is the one who presents the little thing to them. They tell him he's a sweet boy, that he's very mature for his age, and he smiles at them as he's learned to smile at a lot of people over the years. It's how you get things done, his mother has explained to him over and over. Sometimes you fight, but sometimes you can't win, and when you can't win you have to find a way to make others win for you.

They tell him that they'll keep him informed of how the kitten's doing. They even keep their word for the first eight weeks. His mother is sent pictures of the kitten right after leg amputation, and then when the stitches come out, and then when the kitten is perched high up in a cat tree, looking down at the camera. They're good pictures, and he's glad to get to see them.

He did what a hero's supposed to do.

He'll get a kitten of his own when he's older, and has a job that provides him with a stable income, and can give him and his family and whatever kitten he finds the kind of home they deserve.

II.

Shota finds the kitten as he's on his way into UA.

Things are better, for the moment. His mother has a stable, well-paying job. He made it through the entrance exam for UA, even if it was ridiculous and biased, clearly geared towards those whose Quirks are flashy and damaging. Are they trying to encourage collateral damage during hero and villain battles? As someone who's been doing what could probably be called vigilante work for the last five years, he finds the emphasis UA places on battling robots... annoying.

(It's not really vigilante work. He's just protecting his neighbors, which is something everyone should do. And it's not like anyone can complain about him using his Quirk on them—if he has to, and especially if they notice it, then it means that they were breaking the law first by using their own Quirk.)

The kitten is in a box that has a hand-written sign propped up next to it. Free to Good Home. A well-worn pile of blankets lines the bottom of the box.

He shouldn't stop. He's going to be late if he takes the time to do this properly.

But would he really be able to call himself a hero if he just walks away?

It would be different if the kitten were older. If its eyes were open, and it were walking well, and there was food in the box rather a little saucer of milk that it looks like the poor thing has rolled into... there are plenty of stray cats on the street. They do well enough for themselves, provided people aren't deciding to be awful in the near vicinity.

When creatures are too young, though, they can't be left on their own. Leaving this kitten here would be leaving it to die.

Sighing, Shota pulls out his phone and begins looking up information before making a call.

XXX

"Aizawa-kuuuuuun!"

Shota hunches his shoulders down, sighing as he stares down at the kitten that is suckling happily from the tiny bottle in his hands. He thought this part of the campus grounds was isolated enough no one would find him. He should have known better than to try to avoid Yamada Hizashi for any length of time. The boy seems determined to be his friend no matter how lackadaisical Shota is in returning his overtures.

"What're you doing?" Yamada is talking even as he walks up, every gesture looking too big and exaggerated to Shota's eyes. Does Yamada even know that it's possible to move subtly, or to speak at something less than a shout? "Is everything okay? You were late today, which isn't like you, and—OH MY GOD!"

Shota glares up at his classmate. "Could you be a little quieter? You startled her, and I don't want her choking."

"YOU HAVE A KITTEN!"

Shota sighs. "I do. She's eating now. Can you control your own volume, or do I need to do it for you?"

"Sorry, man." Yamada lowers his voice to a stage whisper, creeping closer on tip-toe. "I don't think I've ever seen a cat that small."

"I'm guessing she's about eight days old." Shota rubs the kitten's soft head, calming her until she grabs the nipple again and begins sucking greedily once more. "She was abandoned, and without a mother, at this age she would die. So I got permission to take care of her until she's old enough to go to a proper home."

"Oh?" Yamada very gently reaches out, waiting for Shota to give a reluctant nod before he touches the tip of his finger to the top of the kitten's head. "She's so soft! Also looks super fragile. You're a brave guy, offering to take care of her."

Shota shrugs. "Someone has to. I was there."

"You don't want to keep her?" Yamada trails his finger slowly through the downy fur that's covering the kitten. "When she's bigger."

"I don't have the time or energy to take on that kind of commitment right now. We are in hero training, after all." The kitten finishes the bottle, giving a contented little sigh and relaxing into his hand. "Maybe later. Once we've graduated. Then I can get a cat of my own. But getting a cat and then making my mother look after it, and never being there to provide the enrichment it needs—that's not appropriate."

"But you're bottle feeding her." Yamada frowns, continuing to pet the kitten.

"Yes. Because if she doesn't eat every two to four hours, she'll die." Shota looks up at his classmate, pulling the kitten away so he can turn her over and begin massaging her stomach like the on-line video had shown.

"Every two to four hours?" There's a hoarse quality to Yamada's voice, as though he desperately wants to shout, but he doesn't. "Even overnight?"

"Yes." Shota shrugs. "Interrupted sleep is often part of being a hero, and it's something I can handle with schoolwork for the two to three weeks it will take to get her big enough to start eating on her own. The principal agreed and gave me permission to try, provided I don't fall behind in class."

For a few seconds Yamada just stares at him. Then the boy laughs, shaking his head and stretching his arms up behind his back. "You are intense. You know that? All this for a little stray you found on the side of the road. What're you doing now?"

"Stimulating her digestion. Normally the mother cat would lick her while she was eating, to keep her clean and encourage—there. Urination and defecation." Shota smiles, picking up one of the cloths he had brought and using it to clean the kitten's rear end. "A perfect meal."

Yamada makes a strange little gagging noise, but when Shota looks up at him there's more puzzlement and awe than censure on the boy's face. "I don't think I understand you."

Shota shrugs, tucking the clean, full, half-asleep kitten into the folds of his capture tape. "That's all right. I don't understand you."

Laughing as though Shota had made a joke, Yamada shoves his hands into his pockets. He's going through a growth spurt, and his normally lanky frame is even more gangly than it had been at the start of the year. "Do you need any help?"

"I..." Shota blinks, caught off guard. "No, thank you. I can handle this."

"All right. But if there's anything I can do—taking notes, getting lunch for you, stuff like that—you just let me know. Got it?" Yamada holds out one hand with a thumbs-up.

"I appreciate the offer." Shota shoves his own hands into his pockets, feeling the kitten purring against his chest. "If anything comes up where I need your help, I'll let you know."

"Awesome!" Grinning as though Shota gave him a great gift, Yamada skips ahead. "And I think you should keep the kitten! If you get it through this, you've earned it."

Shota just sighs. It would be foolish for him to try to keep the kitten right now, and cruel to his mother.

Still... as the kitten purrs against him, it's nice to imagine a time when he'll be able to have as many pets of his own as he wants.

XXX

The couple that takes the kitten is middle aged. They meet him at a pet shop close to the train station, one that he had contacted beforehand to ensure they wouldn't mind him making the trade-off there. He bows when he meets them, a proper and respectful Japanese high schooler. The only part of his appearance that's off is the fact that he forgot to shave again, but his beard doesn't come in densely enough for that to be a problem.

They congratulate him on doing a good job with the kitten, saying she's very healthy and playful and will be a wonderful addition to their home, taking the place of their son who has moved into a college dorm.

He tells them what he knows about the kitten, which is precious little. She was a stray. She hasn't had any vaccines done yet, though the veterinarian he took her to said she seemed healthy. She likes the food he's had her on, and the couple buys a bag of it and a few toys with feathers on it—ones that are similar to some of the toys Yamada brought her that she loves.

She's quiet when they take her away in the carrier they brought, and Shota finds himself staring blankly after them for a few minutes. These people, too, promised to keep in touch with him, and he wonders if they will.

It doesn't really matter, in the end. He did what he could, and he made a difference. A creature that would have died without his intervention is going on to have what will hopefully be a wonderful life. He can't watch over every aspect of that life, just as he won't watch over the people he saves when he gets his pro license.

He'll just do his job, play his part, and move on.

His steps are sure when he makes his way to the train, and when his mother asks him if he's doing all right he tells her, honestly, yes.

Yamada starts crying the next day when he hears that the kitten has gone to a proper home, and Shota sighs, looking away from the unseemly display.

He doesn't tell Yamada that he cried a little bit, too, late at night when no one else was around. There's no sense in letting weaknesses by known, or dwelling on what can't be changed.

III.

"ERASERHEAD!"

Aizawa sinks down into the booth that he's currently occupying, raising his textbook so that it's covering his face. It's a futile effort, and he knows it—if Yamada is shouting his hero name, then he's already been spotted. It still makes him feel a little bit better, and buys him a few more seconds before he has to look at the other man.

"Hi!" Yamada slides into the booth across the table from Aizawa, moving like they're in some kind of musical movie.

"Could you not shout my hero name when we're not actually involved in hero work?" Aizawa gestures to his street clothes. Granted, they're not that much different from his normal clothes. Instead of his reinforced long-sleeved shirt and black pants, he's in a black T-shirt and black jeans. Still, Yamada should be able to tell from that and the fact that it's Sunday that he doesn't need to act like they're in class.

"Sure thing! I just think your hero name is really cool and like getting a chance to use it." Yamada grins, and Aizawa pointedly turns his attention back to his textbook.

He's beginning to think it was a mistake to just accept Yamada's idea for his hero name, for multiple reasons. One, it's apparently convinced Yamada that they're best friends. Aizawa doesn't actually mind being friends with the man, but he's not at UA to make friends. He's at UA to learn how to be a better hero, and he's not going to do that by talking with random loud people. Two, the name is apparently a reference to some overseas movie. Aizawa's not sure whether he should actually watch the movie or not, especially because he's not sure Yamada has ever actually seen it. It's definitely caused some awkward conversations for him, though.

Yamada continues as though Aizawa weren't trying to actively ignore him. "I didn't expect to see you here! Well, to see you anywhere today, but especially not in some cute little cafe. Awwww, look, they put foam paw prints on top of your drink!"

Aizawa snags the drink in question before Yamada can dip his finger into it. "That's part of the aesthetic here. If you want to touch, get your own."

"Sure. Any suggestions on what's good?" Yamada looks around, spots the menu tucked between the napkin holder and the wall, and spends a few seconds humming to himself as he peruses it. Then he lifts a hand, waving to the waitress. "Hello, hi, I'd like—whoa!"

Aizawa sighs, though he can't manage to actually frown at Yamada. Not when Hitoshi has just climbed up into his lap for the first time today.

"There is a cat in your lap." Yamada whisper-shouts the words, leaning over the table so that he can point down at the pile of black-and-white fluff that is currently kneading at Aizawa's jeans.

"Yes." Aizawa draws out the word. "That's the whole point of the cafe. Hitoshi and the other cats live here, and if they like you they come and see you."

"This is a cat cafe!" Yamada practically jumps out of his seat. "I'm on a date with you at a cat cafe!"

There is so much wrong with that statement that Aizawa can only stare at the other man for a few seconds. "No."

"Okay, no." Yamada smiles sheepishly as he settles back down into his seat. "But I am hanging out with you at a cat cafe, and that's pretty awesome. How many cats are here? Let me look around, let's see what we can find—oh, there's a beauty over there! Look at that little calico female sitting in the window, staring over at me like I'm the dumbest thing she's ever seen. And there's another, joining in the fun! You have a wonderful little walk, friend. Strutting like he owns the place, this gray buddy will peer deep into your soul with eyes the color of fractured emeralds."

"Her name is Keiko. She's the oldest one in the cafe, and she doesn't come out very much." Aizawa breaks into Yamada's speech, afraid that if he doesn't interrupt, a play-by-play commentary on what every cat is doing for the next hour will result. He also turns so that he can see the little gray cat stalking across the front of the cafe, though he's careful not to displace Hitoshi.

Keiko moves a little more slowly than the other cats, being deliberate and careful with each step, but that doesn't stop her from acting as though everything in the cafe were hers. And it is, really—the humans here are just borrowing the space, soaking in the ambiance that the cats create. She locks eyes with Yamada, staring until he looks away. Careful step by careful step, she stalks towards him, not breaking stride until she's sitting on the ground right in front of him. Her mouth opens, and an imperious little squeak emerges.

Yamada looks to Aizawa expectantly.

Aizawa stares back.

"What do I do?" Yamada prompts.

Aizawa can feel the frown tugging at his own lips. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that other than the kitten you and I helped, I've never really been around cats before. What does the squeaking mean?"

Keiko squeaks again, her eyes narrowing. She doesn't blink as she stares at Yamada.

"It means she wants something." Aizawa studies the way her little front paws are moving, a shuffle as her eyes track the distance between her and Yamada. "I think she wants up on your lap."

"Okay." Yamada's voice is a happy sing-song as he reaches down and gently scoops the old cat up. He lifts her behind the shoulders, and deposits her feet onto his lap, treating her as though she were a child they were rescuing. "Is that what you want, beautiful lady?"

Keiko doesn't make any further noise. She just squeezes her eyes and settles down in Yamada's lap.

Yamada once again looks expectantly across the table. "Now what do I do?"

"Now you let her sit there. You can try petting her, and if she doesn't protest or move then it's fine. Under no circumstances are you allowed to stand up until she leaves your lap." Aizawa manages to keep a straight face as he delivers the last line.

The joke is clearly lost on Yamada, who nods eagerly. "I can do that. I can be a cat lap. I like spending time here with you, anyway."

Aizawa blinks, at a loss once more, and then shrugs. He absently pets Hitoshi as he shifts his math book so that he can see it more easily.

"Soooo... you come here often?" Yamada's hand strokes over Keiko's back, and the old cat seems to enjoy it, laying her head across her paws and closing her eyes.

"When I'm able to. It's a good quiet place to study when we have exams coming up."

Yamada nods, and if he notices any of the subtle hints in the words, he doesn't give any indication of it.

Aizawa supposes he only has himself to blame. Expecting subtlety or even basic communication skills to work with Yamada was foolish of him.

"It's a cute place." Yamada looks around the interior of the cafe, with the dozen booths for customers and the cat towers dotting the walls. "Never would have found it on my own, though, so I'm glad I saw you."

Aizawa makes a mental note to always sit somewhere he won't be visible from the street. It's a good habit to get into as a hero, anyway—keeping control of information, keeping control of entrances and exits.

"How many cats are in here, anyway? There's another two there—oh, and another one! That one just stole someone's sashimi."

"No, that one just ate a treat that was bought by one of the customers." Aizawa doesn't even need to look up to know what's happened, familiar from personal experience with what likely happened. "Is it a big white cat with brown stripes down the side?"

"Uh... yep. It is now busy licking the plate clean of every drop of juice."

"That's Taichi. He's probably the most food-motivated of these guys. Buy him a treat, and he'll be your friend forever." Aizawa smiles, remembering the way Taichi's little tongue first cleaned every trace of food off the plate and then skittered over his skin, rough and warm. He forces himself to look back at his math book and concentrate.

"Maybe I'll have to do that, then." Yamada looks down at the cat in his lap. "Assuming Her Majesty ever frees me."

"She will, eventually." Aizawa looks up at his classmate, and feels the lingering annoyance slip away as he sees how careful Yamada is being with the old cat. "It's actually a big honor. Usually Keiko doesn't come right up to people. She tends to be one that you have to earn the affection of."

The waitress, who had retreated when Keiko began moving in, comes over once more. "Could I put in an order for you?"

Yamada grabs the menu, chatting with the waitress—who is, of course, wearing cat ears—as he decides what kind of snacks he wants for both himself and the cats. When he's done, he moves to tuck the menu back where it had been and then sheepishly drops it on the tabletop instead. "I'll have to put it back later. I can't reach it without disturbing Her Majesty."

"And that just wouldn't do." Aizawa looks up at Yamada, more curious now than annoyed. "Did you really just come in here because you saw me?"

"Well, yeah." Yamada seems surprised at the question. "I don't usually get to see you relaxing, and I figured if you like this place it must be pretty cool."

"It is." Aizawa looks around at the cafe, trying to see it from a newcomer's perspective. He had found it shortly after starting at UA, and he wonders if there were quite so many frayed booth ends then or if it's something that's occurred over the last year and a half. "They take good care of the cats."

"I had heard cat cafes were a thing, but I've never been in one." Yamada very slowly moves his hand up to Keiko's head, touching the soft fur of one ear, then the other, then stroking between her ears.

Aizawa can hear the purring from across the table. Hitoshi begins kneading faster, apparently feeling that he's in danger of being replaced. "There's a few around the city, but this is the one that I like most. The cats here are apple cats."

Yamada looks down at Keiko, then across at Hitoshi, then at the other cats scattered around the room. "Is that... a breed?"

"No, it's a health condition." Aizawa glances at his textbooks, but they aren't appealing at the moment. "They all have feline immunodeficiency virus. It's the reason they're here—because they can't be left on the street. They'll infect other cats and die of complications. But it can also be hard to adopt them out, because people have weird ideas about the disease and because it's... an emotional investment, taking on a cat with a condition that might kill them at any time."

"They have what?" Yamada's hand has stilled, and Keiko reaches out, batting at it until he starts petting her again.

"Feline immunodeficiency virus." Aizawa reaches under Hitoshi's chin, scratching him in just the way he likes. Too far forward, and he'll get overstimulated and nip at your hand; too far back, and he just looks at you as though you're being too dumb to live. "They can be born with it, or they get it from other cats through sex or saliva—fighting, that kind of thing. Hitoshi was an intact stray when they found him and he tested positive, so he probably got it fighting other boys. It's kind of like HIV in people."

"I know about that one." Yamada continues to stroke Keiko, and for the first time since Aizawa's known him he's actually quiet. "Is it... is it as bad as HIV? Are these guys all on medications?"

"They don't have any good anti-virals for cats. Not for FIV, at least. Not yet." Aizawa closes his eyes, enjoying the feel of Hitoshi's purr against his fingertips. "And I don't think it's as bad as HIV is in people? I mean, sometimes it can be. But sometimes they can have decent lives—healthy lives, at least for a while. They need to be kept away from sick animals, and have their stress levels kept to a minimum, and they're not supposed to be around healthy cats so they don't spread it. But that's no reason they can't be happy."

Yamada is silent for almost two full minutes, and Aizawa opens his eyes, staring across at his friend. Has he ever seen Yamada be this quiet for this long?

"Is there..." Yamada clears his throat, looking from Aizawa to the cat in his lap and back to Aizawa. "Is there a reason that you chose this cafe?"

"Because it's convenient, and the cats are nice?" Aizawa feels his brow furrowing as he stares back at Yamada. When his answer doesn't seem to satisfy the other man, he considers for a moment before continuing. "Because they need the affection and the attention. They're good cats, and the ones here are here because they like people. It's not their fault that they're sick, and they deserve to be happy for the time that they have. What are heroes for, if not to make those who need help feel safe and happy?"

Yamada looks back down at Keiko and smiles. "I guess I can get behind that. Heroes for cats, huh?"

The waitress comes then with Yamada's snacks and the treats for the cats. The cats are immediately Yamada's friends, with Hitoshi waiting patiently for Keiko to have hers before pressing forward to claim his share. Even cats can recognize a hierarchy when it's clear enough.

"So what're you studying?" Yamada cranes across the table.

"Our exams are at the end of the week." Aizawa speaks slowly. Does he really need to explain this to his classmate? "So I'm studying for them."

"Mind if I join you?" Yamada smiles hopefully.

Aizawa considers. "Are you any good at math?"

A grin is Yamada's answer.

They spend the next three hours studying together, ordering little treats every now and again for the cats. It's more fun and less hassle than Aizawa had expected, and he actually enjoys himself for the most part.

When he passes the cafe a week later, he spots Yamada inside, Keiko once more on the table in front of him. He smiles, surprising himself, and after a moment's hesitation changes his plans and goes inside.

Perhaps having Yamada as a friend won't be so bad after all.

IV.

"Thanks for agreeing to this!"

"It's no trouble. It works out best for both of us." Aizawa moves the last of his boxes into his small bedroom, glad he packed lightly.

When he goes back into the main room, Marika is kneeling on the floor in front of a cat carrier, cooing to the animal huddled at the back. "It's okay, little one. It's okay. This is going to be our home for a while, yeah?"

The cat stays hidden at the back of the carrier, and Aizawa settles himself on the opposite side of the room from the cat. Though a part of him would love to run up and grab the cat, to try to pet it into comfort and calm like you can with some dogs, he knows that's not the best way to win a cat's affection or to make it feel comfortable.

Marika settles back on her heels, sighing as she stares into the container. Without looking back at him she picks up the thread of their conversation. "I know it's the smartest thing to do financially, both of us being new to the agency and fresh out of school. But I also know not everyone would be comfortable splitting rent with someone of the opposite sex, since people will talk."

Aizawa shrugs. "Let them talk. It's not like there is or will be anything romantic between us. Besides, I don't intend to be making enough of a name for myself to actually have anyone interested in talking. The more people know about me and my Quirk, the less effective it is."

"Always the practical one." Marika shakes her head, mock-pouting at him. "Though should I be insulted that you don't think there's any chance of something romantic between us?"

"No." Aizawa narrows his eyes at the woman. He's been working with her for over a year, ever since his internship started. He thought she was better than some of the other heroes, above the random flirting and harassment about relationships that the press, the fans, and often even their compatriots engage in. "I don't want to be in a relationship with anyone. And besides, living with a same-sex roommate doesn't preclude there being something romantic going on."

"Ooooh?" Marika's eyebrows rise. "Is that how it is?"

"No." Aizawa repeats the negative with a bit more force. "That's not what I meant. Just... there's no reason for people to assume that an opposite-sex arrangement like this has to be romantic and that a same-sex one isn't."

"I know." Marika's smile loses the pouting edge. "Sorry, sorry—I should know better than to tease you about things like that. I know you don't really like it or get it. Not yet, at least."

Aizawa resists the urge to say not ever. It's a fight that's really not worth it.

"And I am glad you're willing to split with me." She reaches into the cage, stroking the hidden creature. "Especially because I know my wanting to bring Makoto with me meant we had to find somewhere either with higher rent or more... um... forgiving standards."

"We found something." Aizawa leans forward as Makoto finally decides that it's okay to leave his carrier. The cat is a long-haired brown-and-black tabby, and it creeps in a slow circle around Marika, bright yellow eyes scanning everything nervously. "And I really don't mind. I'm actually quite fond of cats."

"You are, aren't you?" Marika laughs. "Aww, that's great. They're such wonderful little darlings, aren't they?" Marika waits for Makoto to finish his circuit around her. Then she gently reaches out, taking the cat's right leg and waving his paw at Aizawa. "Say 'hello', Makoto. This is our new friend, who's going to be living with us. His name is Aizawa Shota. Aizawa, meet Makoto, the lord of every domain he enters."

When Marika releases the cat's leg, he scampers off into her room, disappearing into the stack of boxes she brought.

"Well... he's eventually king of his domain. Once he's certain it isn't going to eat him." Marika laughs, a self-conscious sound followed by a friendly little grin. "He'll warm up to you pretty quickly, I'm certain."

"I'd like that. Though it's all right if he doesn't." Aizawa shrugs. "This is his home, too. As long as he's comfortable and happy, that's what matters."

"Cheers to that for all of us." Marika stands and stretches before walking over to the little cooler she brought. She pulls out two long brown bottles. "Break for a drink and a few toasts to our new lives?"

Aizawa takes one of the bottles from her.

"To our lives as professional heroes!" Marika pops the top off her beer. "May they be long, successful, and productive."

Aizawa taps his bottle against hers, taking a swig. It's not the best beer he's ever had, but it's definitely far from the worst. He wonders who gave it to Marika, since technically neither of them is old enough to buy it on their own. That restriction just tended to make a lot of their fellow heroes-in-training get more creative.

If we're old enough to fight villains, we're old enough to drink! Yamada's proclamation had been followed by cheering as he led some of their compatriots on an idiotic mission to acquire something they didn't need, that would just impede their ability to do their jobs.

Sometimes, though, it tastes good. And it's not like they're on the clock right now.

Right now, he and Marika are just ordinary people, citizens settling into their new home.

A home that's going to contain a cat, and Aizawa smiles as Makoto sticks his head out of her bedroom. His ears are still flattened suspiciously, but his tail is up, and he at least doesn't seem to get more nervous when he sees Aizawa.

Given time, Aizawa's certain he can earn the little cat's trust.

XXX

They live together for eleven weeks.

During that time Yamada visits their apartment four times. He has an excuse two of the times, claiming that he's in town for some bit of business or other. The other two times he just arranges to visit as a friend, and Aizawa is glad enough to see him.

Being a pro hero is and isn't what Aizawa expected. He's good at the physical aspects of the job. He's always been a good fighter, though he's better when he has the advantage of surprise—who isn't, really? He's also apparently a better strategist than most, though that fact still surprises him sometimes. Why don't other people look at a room and see the opportunities, the entrances and exits, the angles of attack and defense? Why do so many heroes and villains have to learn to do that, and why do they forget so easily in the heat of the moment?

Other things... he doesn't want to be in the spotlight. He never has and he doubts he ever will. All he's doing is his job, so why do the reporters seem interested in... well... everything about him?

"It's because you're handsome." Yamada nods sagely to himself, one hand on his chin.

"I haven't shaved in five days." Aizawa scowls at his friend, jabbing his chopsticks into his soba as he does. "I think I forgot to brush my hair this morning. I am not handsome."

"No, you're not groomed." Marika slurps up a bunch of noodles. They're eating on the living room floor—neither Aizawa nor Marika has a table, mainly because the loss of space isn't worth it. Maybe they'll figure out a kotatsu in the winter. "It's very different. Handsome is just something you are, and people are going to notice. They'd notice more and probably know more of what to do with you if you acted like a normal handsome person, but you're handsome whether you take advantage of it or not."

Aizawa scowls down at his food. Makoto's paw sneaks up, questing to find the edge of it. Aizawa uses his chopsticks to remove the cat's paw from his bowl before he can snag something, and fishes out a bit of shrimp to offer the cat.

"Plus you're just..." Yamada gestures expansively with his chopsticks. "You're intriguing. You've developed this aura of mystery about you."

"I'm not mysterious, I'm professional."

Marika laughs. "You get away with monosyllabic answers when you can. Unless someone irritates you or says something stupid, in which case hoooo boy." Her smiles becomes more rueful. "I wish I had the charisma to get away with what you do."

Aizawa just frowns harder. Marika is plenty charismatic enough, and he thinks she handles the press better than he does. The expectations for women seem to be much stricter than they are for men, though, so perhaps she feels she doesn't measure up to the higher standard she's held to. "All I'm trying to do is my job."

"That's all any of us newbies are doing." Yamada flops bonelessly backward so that he's staring up at the ceiling. "And I think we're doing a good job, though it is a helluva lot... more than I think I was prepared for."

Aizawa nods. "UA tried to prepare us, but I don't think they focused on the right things. Or really gave us a good idea what would be coming. The internship helped, but... things could have been better."

Marika pokes her cat, which has now decided to curl up on Aizawa's lap, with her chopsticks. "Maybe you'll have to update their curriculum for them."

"Maybe." Aizawa keeps a straight face for all of five seconds before allowing a slight smile to break through as he pets Makoto. "That'll be far in the future, though. Have to know what I'm preparing people for before I can really decide how best to prepare them, and I don't think a two-month study time is nearly long enough."

"You wouldn't." Yamada groans theatrically from the floor. "No more talk about work, though. I'm here to see you and hear about how your life is going."

"My life is my work." Aizawa reaches out to prod Yamada with his toe. "I would think you'd have figured that out by now."

Turning his head so that he's looking sideways at Aizawa, Yamada quirks an eyebrow. "Are you allowed to say that when you're holding a cat?"

Aizawa looks down at the cat in his lap. "What does Makoto have to do with anything?"

Marika pats Yamada's knee. "Just give that one up for now."

"For always." Yamada sighs dramatically. "I don't know who convinced you that you're not allowed to be more than just your job, but they didn't do you or anybody else any favors."

Aizawa doesn't answer, just petting Makoto as he studies his friends. He doesn't understand what Yamada means. Being a hero isn't something you play at for a few hours and then put aside. It's something that you are. All Might never gets to stop being All Might, whether he wants to go watch a movie or pretend to be someone else or not. And it's not like Aizawa is always dressed as or acting as a professional hero. Right now, for instance, he's wearing jeans and a black turtleneck.

But they should always be ready to be heroes. They should always be prepared to jump into action, because who knows when they're going to be needed? Villains take a myriad of forms, and Aizawa will no more walk away from a bully then he'll walk away from a bank robber. His job is to protect, and that's what he's going to do.

The rest of the night passes in quiet companionship, and Yamada falls asleep in front of their small television while some weird foreign film from before Quirks appeared plays. Aizawa drapes a spare blanket over him, and Makoto curls up on it, acting as a small living space heater.

It's a good way to spend the night, and Aizawa looks forward to many more in the future.

XXX

Marika is dead two weeks later.

It could have been him. A little part of Aizawa thinks it should have been him, but he's pretty sure that's just some form of shock talking, and he tries his best to ignore it.

Marika has a will, of course. It's part of being a professional hero. Aizawa remembers the way his signature looked when he signed his own, black, sharp lines against the white paper. He remembers the contents of his, as well—how he detailed that most of his possessions should go to his mother, with a handful of special items going to Yamada and other school friends.

Would he write the same will now? Probably. The only thing he might change is adding a handful of personal items for other people. His mother should still get the bulk of his assets, since she's the reason he's been able to make it this far.

They read the pertinent parts of Marika's will at the agency the day after she dies. Aizawa listens to it attentively, nodding at all the appropriate places, making notes about special requests that he might be able to fulfill. The last thing her parents will need to do is try to deliver small items they may not recognize from the descriptions.

When Dark Knight—his boss—Marika's boss—asks if he's all right, Aizawa says yes. He is, after all. He has a handful of bruises and a sprained wrist from the fight. His eyes are burning, a bit, but that tends to happen after any too-long battle, and he doesn't think more of it.

(If he hadn't blinked—if he'd noticed the other villain—so many ifs he could drown in them, but that won't help anyone. Looking at it logically, ruthlessly, rationally, he did everything he could. He will remember that, and he will continue to analyze the battle for anything he should have done differently, but he will not allow himself to be eaten alive by the ifs that want to rise up and claim everything.)

Yamada comes over that evening. He doesn't send warning, and Aizawa just stares at him, standing in the doorway, a shape that belongs and also very much doesn't.

"Hi." Yamada gives a little wave. "Is it... all right that I came?"

Aizawa finally moves out of the doorway, giving Yamada a chance to enter. "I suppose. There are some things I have to do, though."

"I figured." Yamada closes the door behind himself. "I thought... maybe I could help?"

After a few minutes consideration Aizawa nods. "Are you any good at packing things up?"

Between himself and Yamada, they have Marika's personal effects back in boxes within three hours. The only things Aizawa leaves out are Makoto and his dishes and litter box. Those he will pack tomorrow, when it's time to deliver everything to Marika's parents.

"What happens with him?" Yamada nods to where the cat is resting against Aizawa's knee.

"What?" Aizawa looks down at the cat. Makoto looks up at him, his ears pressed slightly back. He hasn't been relaxed since Marika died. Aizawa knows it's not because he can understand the words Aizawa has told him—how could a cat possibly understand what death means—but Marika's absence is clearly weighing heavily on him anyway.

"What happens with Makoto?" Yamada scoots closer, so that he can reach out and touch the cat, too.

Makoto makes an unhappy grumbling noise and skitters to Aizawa's other side.

"Sorry. He's been nervous since... he doesn't like changes in the schedule." Aizawa glances at the time, realizes that Makoto's dinner is late, and gets up to prepare it.

Yamada follows him.

It takes Aizawa a moment to remember Yamada asked him a question, and he almost drops Makoto's food. It's not often he forgets to answer something. Intentionally not answer, yes, but not forget to. "Ah... Makoto goes back to Marika's parents tomorrow. I'm going to take him, along with the rest of her belongings."

"Oh." Yamada bends down, and Makoto apparently remembers that he likes him, going over and sniffing his fingers. "That's a shame."

"No, it's not." Aizawa measures out the proper amount of wet and dry food and places the bowl on the ground. "It's what's supposed to happen."

"I just thought... I don't know. That maybe they'd let him stay with you." Yamada scratches under Makoto's chin, causing Makoto's tail to vibrate.

"He lived with them while Marika was in high school." Aizawa frowns at his friend. "He's their dead daughter's best friend. I don't have any right to get into the middle of that."

"I know. I'm not... I just know he likes you, and you like him, and I thought if her parents didn't want him maybe you did." Yamada straightens, moving slowly. "I'll miss him."

"It's better this way." Aizawa washes his hands as Makoto pounces on his food. "I won't have the time to deal with a cat now. The agency is going to be short-staffed until we find a replacement, and my hours are going to be more variable. Plus the press... it's better this way."

"I guess... though, just because Makoto's going home doesn't mean you can't get another cat." Yamada moves up behind Aizawa. "I know a few places—"

"Weren't you listening?" Aizawa's hands are clutching the side of the sink, and he forces his fingers to relax. "I don't need a cat right now. Later, maybe. When things are more stable. But not right now."

"Okay. That's... that's okay." Yamada is silent, and then Aizawa hears him audibly swallow, the sound breaking through the crunch of Makoto happily eating. "I'm sorry about Marika. Really, truly sorry. She was amazing, and I know you two were becoming good friends. But I'm also... I'm so glad you're all right, Shota."

Aizawa closes his eyes, and forces his fingers to relax once more. "Me, too." His voice is a hoarse whisper, and though he thinks he should—though the truth demands that he should—he can't make himself repeat the words.

Yamada's fingers ghost against his shoulder, there and then gone.

They spend the rest of the night playing with Makoto, and Aizawa is glad of both the company and Yamada's self-control in managing not to constantly fill the silence.

Sometimes there just isn't much to say.

XXX

The next day Aizawa brings Makoto back to his home. He bows to Marika's parents, telling them what he can about their daughter—her life, her heroics, her death. When he leaves they are both smiling and crying at the same time, and they request he come back to see them sometime.

He wears his hero outfit to deliver the cat, capture tape secure around his neck, goggles hidden in the folds. If it offends her parents, they don't say anything, and he supposes it's one more reason choosing black as the base color of his costume was a good idea.

He doesn't leave the house without all his gear for months to come, until long after the cat hair has been washed off all his clothes and he has moved to a smaller, no-pet apartment with a far more reasonable rent.

V.

Aizawa buys himself a cat for his twenty-fourth birthday.

It's about as close to a spur-of-the-moment decision as he's ever allowed himself to come, but he tells himself firmly that there's nothing wrong with that. He's got a stable job. His schedule is as predictable as a hero's schedule ever is. He has a good income. The apartment he's renting is pet-friendly—even when he didn't have a cat, it was nice to see the other residents' animals every once in a while.

He hadn't meant to go to the adoption event. He had been working his way back to the train station from his doctor's appointment, his hand shoved into his pockets, his attention far from the world around him. Not that he wasn't paying attention—he's always paying attention, nowadays. Not paying attention is how you or other people get killed. How villains get away with hiding in plain sight. Though he doesn't always wear his gear out now, he usually does, and today is no exception.

The adoption event is being held in a park. It's a little bit of green in the midst of the skyward-reaching buildings, and Aizawa stops to study the people wandering the edges. Some of the volunteers are wearing kigurumi, cats and dogs bounding up to people with enthusiastic energy. Others are wearing little headbands with ears attached.

It's one of the latter who runs up to him, holding out a flier. "Good afternoon! Have you come to see our friends?"

Aizawa looks down at the flier, detailing the costs for puppies, dogs, kittens, cats, and rabbits. "Not specifically, but maybe... are there cats here?"

"There are!" The woman practically bounces into the air in her excitement. "Come with me, sir, and I'll show you who we have here today. Now remember, the cats can get a bit restless out of their normal environment, or be a little shy. We have information available on all our adoptees, though, so if you like the looks of someone we'll be happy to tell you about them!"

"Tell me what you know about them as we look." Aizawa allows the woman to lead him through the noisy, child-strewn cacophony of cages and fences until they reach an area populated mainly by cats.

"I'll start with the older cats, then. They're the ones who most need a home." The woman points to a short-haired gray cat with a bob tail. "This one's Daisuke. His owner passed away and didn't have any kin to take the poor boy in. He's sweet, though he can be a little huffy if he doesn't get his way."

Aizawa crouches down so that he's more on a level with the cat. "How old is he?"

The woman hesitates. "He's ten. I know it's older, but he's very healthy, and he could have another good five, six years, maybe even more! He'd be very happy to spend those years with someone who could offer him a good home."

"You're making the assumption I can offer him a good home." Aizawa holds out his hand to the cage. Daisuke turns his head to sniff at it, and the light glints blue off his right eye.

"Well, I..." The woman is off-balance for perhaps three, four seconds before she plasters her smile back in place. "We assume that people looking to adopt pets are aware of the responsibilities, but if you would like I can go over them with you. We wouldn't want to send someone to a home that's not ready for them. Constantly being rehomed isn't good for anybody."

"I know what's required to take care of a cat. My apartment allows cats, and I have the spare funds to put towards food and a litter box." Aizawa looks up at the woman. "I apologize. It's been... a long day. That's no reason to be snippy with someone just trying to do some good, though. I appreciate the work you're doing here. You people are heroes for these cats."

"Oh, my, that's..." A flush rises to the woman's cheeks, and she lifts her handful of fliers to hide her face for a moment. "I mean, th-thank you. We're just doing our best."

"There's something wrong with this cat's right eye." Aizawa points to the eye in question. The surface looks... strange, warped strangely, a blue-white color to it rather than the normal clear color.

"He had an injury as a kitten. They were afraid he was going to lose the eye, but he didn't. It scarred the cornea badly, and there's concern he may one day develop glaucoma, but so far he's been fine." The woman bends down, sticking her fingers into the cage. "Huh, Daisuke? You don't need any silly depth perception to jump around, do you?"

The cat opens his mouth in an impressive yawn before closing both eyes and setting his head down regally on his front feet.

Aizawa stands up. "I want him."

"Oh." The woman stands as well, stumbling in her heels as she tries to keep up with him. "Are you... are you sure? You don't want to see any of the other cats?"

Aizawa arches his eyebrows up. "Do you really want to talk me out of adopting the old cat with the potential to develop chronic health problems?"

"N-no, I just..." She waves a hand towards Daisuke's kennel. "I just want to make sure he goes to a good home, where he'll be well taken care of."

"I can assure you he will be." Aizawa pulls his wallet out of his pocket, opening it to display his hero license. "He won't be the first cat I've taken care of."

"Oh." The woman looks from the picture on his license to him and back. "Oh! You're Eraserhead! Well—this is marvelous! Would it be all right if we took some pictures of you and Daisuke? It could help increase adoptions immensely if—"

"No."

The woman looks so crestfallen that Aizawa immediately feels bad about his abrupt refusal.

He pinches at the bridge of his nose. "Would it take long?"

"Not at all!" Right back to her previous perky grin, and Aizawa wonders how much of the disappointment was an act.

He decides it doesn't matter as he fills out the paperwork to claim his cat. If posing for a few pictures with his new cat will help other cats get adopted, well, he's done dumber things in the course of his hero career. He warns the photographer that they'll have to clear things with his agency before actually using any of the pictures, gathers up Daisuke's cage, and is one his way.

An hour later he's staring down at a cat, who is staring up at him from one good eye and one bad eye, tail swishing as they contemplate each other.

Tail swishing could be anger, or could be fear, or could just be over-stimulation from the rest of the day. Aizawa decides to just leave the cat alone as he makes a list of everything he needs to get for him, and hopefully they'll come to an understanding before too long.

XXX

"YOU HAVE A CAT!"

Aizawa grimaces. Why had he thought it was a good idea to call Yamada and tell him about the purchase?

Ah, right. The bags dangling from Yamada's hands—bags that hopefully contain the items Aizawa asked him to bring—explain most of it.

"Where is it?" Yamada peers around, moving in exaggeratedly slow motions.

"He is now hiding on the bottom shelf of the television stand." Aizawa gestures to the area in question. "You scared him by being so loud."

"Sorry, kitty!" Yamada makes the words into a sing-song whisper-shout that still fills the whole house. "Where should I put this stuff?"

"Let me see." Aizawa begins divesting his friend of bags, emptying each into its proper place. The food goes into the kitchen cupboards. The bowls are placed on the kitchen floor, retiring the breakfast bowl that had been functioning as a water bowl. The toys are scattered about the living room and kitchen, including up on shelves it's all right for Daisuke to climb on. In combination with the litter box and litter that Aizawa brought himself, it means Daisuke has everything he should need.

Leaving Aizawa with an almost-full bag of treats and a live catnip plant. "These are—"

"Gifts for him!" Yamada is sitting with his knees up to his ears, peering in at Daisuke. "Hello, Daisuke! I'm Yamada! I'm going to be your second-best friend!"

"You didn't need..." Aizawa trails off, shrugging his shoulders as he tries to find a sunny spot to place the catnip plant where Daisuke won't immediately eat it all. If Yamada wanted to spoil the cat, so be it. "What do I owe you for the rest?"

"Nothing. It's a birthday present." Yamada hasn't moved from his awkward spot watching the cat.

"Yamada—"

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to—"

Aizawa throws one of the bag of treats at Yamada's head, which causes him to stop singing because he's laughing too hard.

When Yamada recovers himself, he opens the bag of treats and scatters some in front of Daisuke before retreating to the other side of the living room. "I really am glad you got yourself a cat, Eraser. It's about time."

Aizawa shrugs, hands finding their way to his pockets. "He needed a home. I have the space and the money. It made sense."

Yamada stares at him, a long, drawn-out consideration that makes Aizawa shift uncomfortably.

"Hm." Yamada sniffs, turning away finally. "What's wrong with his eye?"

"Old battle injury, apparently." Aizawa turns the television on. The volume is already low, a news station playing softly. It will provide some additional white noise to help Daisuke feel less cornered, and if anything important comes up Aizawa will notice. "Doesn't bother him. Just means we'll have to watch for signs of glaucoma as he keeps getting older."

Yamada nods. "It's kind of funny, you having a cat with eye issues. Given, you know—that your eyes are such an important part of your Quirk and hero career?"

"I understood before you spelled it out." Aizawa's hands have slipped from his pockets, and his arms are now crossed in front of his chest. He doesn't remember that happening, but figures it would look ridiculous if he tried to shove them back down now. "And if you want to know how my appointment went, you can always just ask."

"And if I did, what are the chances you would say it's none of my business?"

"Well... it's really not." Aizawa watches the shelf where Daisuke is busily examining the treats. "We don't work for the same agency. When we work together on special assignments, anyone who needs to know special limitations I have will be informed of them. So..."

"Aizawa..." Yamada presses two fingers to his forehead, looking pained. "I'm not asking as part of the job, I'm asking as your friend."

"The appointment went fine. It was... weird. They did this test where they put strips of paper in my eyes..." Aizawa frowns, rubbing his arms at the memory. He had been still and courteous and reasonable through all of it, of course, merely asking for an explanation at each step of the procedure. The nurse who actually administered most of the testing hadn't seemed irritated at having to tell him what she was doing, smiling as she explained the reason behind each piece of equipment she prodded his eyes with and each new drop she applied. It had still been... protecting his eyes has become a basic part of his hero life. To have someone touching his eyes, repeatedly, was difficult.

Yamada is managing to stay quiet, though he fidgets, fingers playing with zippers and seams as he stares at Aizawa.

"After a lot of tests, the ophthalmologist said that I've got clinical dry eye in my left eye and subclinical in my right. That's why my eyes have been burning lately." Aizawa avoids looking at Yamada, instead continuing to watch his new cat as Daisuke decides the treats aren't poison and proceeds to gobble them down like he was never fed before. "They don't know if it's because of my Quirk, or unrelated. Though none of my family has ever had issues with dry eye, so... they're going to do more tests, in a week or so, to see if they can narrow down the cause."

"What does that mean over the long term?" Yamada stands, his hands rubbing together. "I mean... lots of people have dry eye, right? That's better than alternatives. Better than, like... glaucoma, or some kind of weird eye cancer, or... stuff."

"Lots of people have glaucoma, too. Just because a lot of people have a problem doesn't mean it's not serious." Aizawa shrugs, running a hand through his tangled hair. "It doesn't change much, right now. I have two eye drops I'm supposed to use—one to try to encourage tear production, and one to keep the tear film normal. Hopefully that'll keep everything under control for a while."

Yamada nods. "And if it is your Quirk causing the problem—"

"Then it doesn't change anything." Aizawa speaks firmly, cutting off any further conversation about the topic. "I'm a hero. I'm good at it. I'm not going to stop being a hero just because my eyes are stupid."

"Okay." Yamada moves closer to Daiuke again, and the cat crawls out of the shelf, trilling imperiously at the lanky man. "Hah, kitty wants some more treats, doesn't he? Here you go!"

"Don't feed him too many treats. You'll make him sick." Aizawa settles down against the wall, watching Yamada make friends with his new cat.

Yamada stays for the rest of the day and overnight, bedding down on Aizawa's couch as he's done several other times. When Aizawa gets up in the morning, he finds Daisuke perched on Yamada's back, and the two of them share a look before Aizawa begins quietly making breakfast.

Getting a cat may have been a spur-of-the-moment decision, but that doesn't mean it was a bad one or poorly thought out, and he's glad he did it.

XXX

Daisuke settles into Aizawa's life as though he were always there.

Aizawa feeds him in the morning and the evening. When he's going to have to be away for a few days due to a mission, his next-door neighbor, a gentle older woman with two cats of her own, comes over to feed him and give him some attention and company.

Daisuke rules the house. His toys are scattered everywhere, providing a lived-in, cluttered feel to the apartment that would probably otherwise be lacking. He doesn't seem to mind that Aizawa keeps strange hours, most of his preferred patrolling done at night, while his work with other heroes—work that has become more and more common as knowledge of his Quirk permeates the hero community—is during the day. So long as food is on time, though, the cat just greets him with a mrph when he comes in, and sometimes gives a little meep when he's leaving, but otherwise seems not to care.

Though Daisuke's not always an affectionate cat, he seems to know when his attention is needed. When Aizawa is facing a particularly rough case, it's not uncommon for Daisuke to come over and claim Aizawa's lap, kneading and grunting until Aizawa is in whatever arrangement Daisuke wants him to be in to curl up on.

"You're right, you know." Aizawa speaks to the cat that is currently loafed on his chest. "This one is... particularly bad. These people are stealing kids. Kids who have already manifested their Quirks. They're either paying the parents for the kids, which is a type of awful unto itself, or they're just... taking them. Making the kids disappear. Who would do that?"

Daisuke squeezes his eyes.

"Yeah. Whatever humans do, it's all weird to you, huh?" Aizawa strokes the soft fur between Daisuke's ears. "But even by human standards, this is messed up."

Daisuke's eyes close completely, and the cat's purrs rumble in Aizawa's chest, lulling him into a calm sleep for the first time in three days, too.

XXX

It takes them seven weeks of careful work, but they manage to track down the head of the child smuggling ring. He's no one special, a punk who goes by Firestorm and has carved out a niche for himself by being more willing to do terrible things than those around him, but his Quirk is dangerous, able to spontaneously generate fire on or in objects he can see.

Aizawa wasn't supposed to get close to Firestorm. He was supposed to hang back, providing cover for his faster partner. Hana's Quirk covers her skin in flowers and vines, granting her increased durability and strength and making her virtually fireproof.

Very few plans survive first contact with the enemy. Aizawa knows that, and so he's not surprised that things have gone poorly. He just wishes they hadn't, and is doing everything in his power to keep Firestorm away from Hana's prone form.

"Stay still, Eraserhead!" The thug, his muscles bulging and his eyes wide with the adrenaline of battle, puts his fist through the wall where Aizawa's head had been a moment before.

Does Firestorm have a secondary Quirk characteristic they weren't aware of? Increased durability? He shouldn't have been able to shrug off the blows he's taken, but there's no sign of his slowing down so far.

"Or should I use your name?" The crazy bastard is fast as well as strong, springing after Aizawa, dodging through his capture tape as though it weren't there. "Aizawa Shota. Did you think you people were the only ones doing research? This is so much bigger than you! So much bigger than anyone. But I can help put it in perspective."

Aizawa launches himself off the wall, using the movement to allow himself a moment to blink. His eyes are burning, but there's no time to deal with that now. When the fight is done, he can spend some time with his eyes closed, allowing them to soak in the tear replacer that protects them. Now, they'll have to deal with the ash and keep doing their damn job, or he and Hana are both going to die.

"You have a cat, right?" Another hole is punched in the wall where Aizawa kicked off, and the man turns to Aizawa, grinning. "A pretty old thing, I'm told. Messed up eye. And a nice old neighbor who's been taking care of it. When you get home, what do you think you'll find?"

The man is trying to goad him. Aizawa knows that. He's trying to make Aizawa react emotionally rather than reasonably.

Aizawa doesn't give him the satisfaction. He continues to move, capture tape zipping out to try to catch arms, legs. He continues to use his Quirk, tamping down on the man's ability to destroy their environment.

"There are so many people involved in this." One piece of capture tape loops around Firestorm's right wrist, and he slows. "People who know where you live, and what you love." Another around the man's left wrist, and Aizawa realizes too late that it's an intentional ruse. With a quick jerk of his hands, Firestorm yanks Aizawa towards him.

He isn't the first to try such a tactic, and though Aizawa is pulled away from the wall, he loosens the capture tape before he's dragged into grappling range, leaving them staring at each other and panting in the ash-filled air.

"I suppose this'll work." The man holds his hands in a loose boxer's stance. "You and me, facing each other. You're going to blink, you know. And when you do, I'm going to burn you alive."

He is going to blink. It's inevitable, the time he can keep his eyes open made shorter by the smoke in the air. But he's not going to play this villain's game.

"Because you did this—you and your hero friends—when you go home, your cat's going to be dead. The old lady, too, and her cats." The villain steps forward.

Aizawa steps back and right, and Firestorm tracks him. A dart to the left, a tug on the capture tape tied around the villain's wrist—

Unnatural strength practically rips his arm from his socket, and Aizawa hisses out a breath. Only a quick duck and dodge roll keeps him from being caught in a crushing grip.

"A mixed puddle of blood in the middle of your austere living room, dripping down through the ceiling of the apartment below, and maybe those are the people who will notice first." The villain traces a line of fire along the wall in the time it takes Aizawa to blink and dodge again. "And nothing—"

Two shots ring out in rapid succession, and the villain stops talking. He reaches up to touch his chest, seeming surprised at the blood pouring out of two holes there. The police officer who shot the villain stands in a perfect shooter's stance, gun still trained on the child-thief.

Then the villain falls forward, eyes staring unblinking at the wall. Aizawa doesn't look away from Firestorm until he's had a chance to kneel down and feel for a non-existent pulse.

Aizawa lifts his visor, using his hand to rub the spattered blood from his face. The blood on his clothes he doesn't worry about. That will be hidden by the black, and there are things he needs to do immediately, before handling the paperwork nightmare that is executing a villain instead of arresting him.

XXX

Aizawa warns his neighbor about the threats that were made against her. She just shrugs them off, laughing and saying she's old, anyway.

Daisuke, of course, doesn't understand that anything happened. Because nothing did happen, really. Perhaps it would have happened, if more of Firestorm's people had escaped, or if Firestorm hadn't died. As it is, they capture over a dozen people, with Firestorm the only casualty.

They don't capture them all. Aizawa knows they don't capture them all, because there should be paperwork. An organization as big as the one they were tracking comes with an equal amount of paperwork. After three days of tearing about the villain's lair and hacking through their computers, though, there's barely a hint of the outline of the operation.

It might not matter. It might just be that someone had a memory Quirk, one that let them act as a walking encyclopedia of the set-up. It might be that they just need more time to bargain and barter with the people they've caught, and that when they do the information will appear.

Or it might be that Firestorm was right, and this is just a piece of a bigger, uglier puzzle that they're just starting to find the edges of.

"You don't need to do this." Yamada stands with his arms crossed in front of his chest, frowning fiercely at Aizawa.

"I know." Aizawa coaxes Daisuke towards the box with a bit of catnip. The cat sniffs the leaf before promptly rolling over on his back, all four feet kneading the air.

"It's not... he's your cat!" Yamada takes a step towards them, and Daisuke rolls back over, the fur on his back standing on end. "You haven't even had him for a year."

"I know." Aizawa strokes Daisuke's fur so that it's lying smooth again.

"He was just a lying bastard! He didn't actually know anything. He just wanted to get under your skin, and you let him."

"No." Aizawa waits for Daisuke to pick the catnip leaf up in his mouth. Then he lifts Daisuke and places him in the carrier, hurriedly placing the top on and beginning to snap it closed. "Well—yes, to some of it. Firestorm was undoubtedly a lying bastard and a thousand other hideous things besides. I'm not sure you can go much lower than child kidnapper and child slaver. But he really knew about Daisuke, and my house, and my neighbor. And who knows what other people he sold that information to, or what they'll do with it?"

"I get it. I do. I—I don't know if I'd move in your situation, but I get why you're doing it." Yamada stabs a finger at Daisuke's carrier, which is now meowing—not angrily, more confused. "But take him with you! Don't—"

"Give him to my mother, a wonderful woman who will give him a good stable home with a more stable schedule than I can?" Aizawa sticks his hand into the carrier, petting Daisuke until the cat is calm again. "He'll be safe there. If something like this happens again, he won't have to move again. It'll be a better environment for an old man. Plus I can go see him anytime I go home. And you can see him, too. It's not like my mother doesn't like you."

"Shota—"

"You said you'd drive me." Aizawa picks up the carrier and one of the bag of cat toys. He's not in the mood to deal with Yamada when Yamada is calling him by his first name. "If you're going to help, those bags need to come. If you're not, I'm going to go call a cab."

Yamada picks up the bags. "I think you're making a mistake. But I'm not going to let you get rid of Daisuke without getting a chance to say goodbye."

"You're being melodramatic. Which is fitting, from you, but I don't really want to deal with it today. Either control your emotions or go home."

"Because being a bastard to me is going to make you feel better. Sure. Whatever." Yamada mutters the words under his breath as he heads out to his car.

Aizawa pretends not to hear them. He doesn't want this to turn into a shouting match with Yamada. He just wants to take Daisuke somewhere safe, and then start packing up his things so he can move. Again.

The drive isn't silent. Aizawa's not certain Yamada knows that cars can move without the radio going, though he's kind enough to Daisuke not to blast the music like he usually does.

Aizawa's mother greets them warmly, offering tea and cookies and insisting they stay while Daisuke does his initial sweeps of the house and begins settling in.

When they go to leave, she reaches out and pulls Aizawa into a tight embrace. "I'm glad you're safe, Shota. And whatever happens, know that you and your friends are always welcome here. Even if it's just for a day."

"Thank you." Aizawa returns the hug awkwardly. His mother isn't usually a physically affectionate person, and he thinks he can count the number of times she's hugged him since his graduation on one hand. "And sorry for the inconvenience. I shouldn't have gotten Daisuke in the first place. I don't know what I was thinking. He'll be a good cat for you, though."

His mother looks up at him, and Shota can't read the expression on her face. Her fingers reach up to trace his cheek, then feel gingerly at the capture tape around his neck. Then she sighs and takes a step back. "Be safe." Her stance shifts, including Yamada in the conversation. "Both of you. Take good care of yourselves. All right?"

"Always, ma'am." Yamada bows. "Thanks again for the hospitality."

The smile she gives Yamada is much easier to read. "Anytime. Thank you."

Then they're heading back to Aizawa's apartment, Yamada incrementally turning the volume on the music up.

"Thank you." Aizawa refuses to shout to be heard over the music, which thankfully results in the music being turned down.

"That's what friends are for, you know. Helping friends make poor life decisions." Yamada sighs, holding up a hand. "Okay, I know—I get it. And if you'll let me, I'll help you start packing again. I just... I think you're going to be lonely without him."

"I don't have time to be lonely." Aizawa leans back in the passenger's seat, closing his eyes. "Besides, I've got you."

The silence after that statement is deafening, as though he said something much more portentous than he intended, and Aizawa cracks his right eye open to look over at Yamada.

"Do you..." Yamada clears his throat. "How do you mean that?"

"That you're my friend." Aizawa speaks slowly, trying to feel out the current he's apparently waded into. "That you've been my friend for a long time, and..." And he knows what this sudden tension is, he realizes. He's felt something similar, though usually it's when talking to Midnight or Joke or the press when they're being stupid. "Oh. Are you upset at the potential for there being more than friendship, or excited?"

"Fuck, Shota." Yamada slouches down in his seat, his eyes staring fixedly at the road.

Aizawa can't quite keep from grinning. "Would that be 'fuck, Shota' or 'fuck Shota'?"

Yamada makes a sound remarkably similar to a cat before throwing up a hairball.

Aizawa laughs quietly. "Sorry. I shouldn't. I'm just not used to being on this side of these types of conversations." He pauses, running through the information he has. "Assuming... I'm not interpreting things wrong? Because if I am, please tell me. I'd rather know I'm being an idiot quickly than continue being an idiot in blissful oblivion."

"You're not being an idiot. Or, well, you're not misinterpreting." Yamada's gaze flicks from the road to Aizawa and back. "You don't... you're not upset?"

"Let's be a bit more blunt here, just so there's no misinterpretations." Aizawa slouches down now, finding it far too tempting to just stare out the window away from Yamada. They've started this conversation. It would be stupid not to continue it. "You're interested in me? Romantically?"

"I've been interested in you romantically for a long time, but I didn't think there was much hope of anything happening." Yamada's hands clench around the wheel. "You didn't really seem interested in anything romantic. At first I thought it was just you were, like, really gay, and so girls and thus all the romance everyone expected put you off, and then I thought maybe you, like, weren't interested in romance at all?"

"I don't know." Shota answers the questioning tone, looking down at his hands as he does. "I've never really... I know what I'm supposed to do. I'm supposed to be a hero. I know how to do that and how to be good at that. Beyond the hero work..."

"A lot of our classmates are moving beyond it now." Yamada's tongue flicks across his lips. "Now that we've got our brands, and our image, and steady jobs... there's a lot of people dating. Starting to try moving in together. Even a few starting families."

Shota nods. He's aware of all that. He just doesn't... understand it. Or imagine it for himself.

"What do you want to do outside being a hero?" Yamada's question has unexpected force. "You're doing great for yourself. The only problem most people see is with how you interact with the press sometimes. But working with your peers, saving people, stopping the villains—you're great at all that."

"Beyond being a hero..." Shota frowns. "I don't know. I don't really want anything beyond being a hero. And I know it's good for people to have hobbies outside the profession, I know about burn-out and mental health, I just... it's what I love and what I'm good at."

"Except for cats." Yamada smiles.

Shota gives him a look. "You're changing the subject."

"Not really. Just broadening it." Yamada grins.

"Hizashi—"

"Oh, boy, now I'm really in the thick of it." Yamada laughs, though there's a nervous edge to the sound. "If we're being honest? Really honest? I've thought you were gorgeous since we were at UA together. I didn't really think you were an option for a long time, so I've been very happy just being your friend. But if you're saying you're possibly available and interested..."

"It would be difficult. Being a pro hero in Japan in a gay relationship." Aizawa turns the concept over in his head. "There would be a lot of push-back from the cultural conservatives."

"Ah... yep. That's very true." There's bitterness in Yamada's tone.

"But they're already complaining about things that can't be changed, like the fact that more and more children are being born with stronger and stronger Quirks." Aizawa shrugs. "I don't know, Yamada. I haven't really thought about myself dating anyone. But you are one of my closest friends. You're the person I called when I needed help with Daisuke. And... I don't dislike the idea."

Yamada nods. "So... how about this. We just... let this be for a little bit. Give you some time to get settled again. Though maybe... I know you've been living alone, and if you'd prefer that it's fine. But if you don't mind a roommate... maybe we could find somewhere together? Somewhere pet-friendly. Be the two neighborhood heroes, keeping an eye on things."

Aizawa considers the suggestion before nodding. "I think that could work."

Yamada grins, and when it's clear Aizawa is done with his side of the conversation, he turns the music up and sings along at a ridiculous volume.

Aizawa doesn't mind, just like he doesn't mind Yamada humming and singing as they begin packing up his belongings.

Sometimes it's better to have noise than to have silence that highlights the sounds that are missing.

VI.

Aizawa wakes blessedly late and to silence.

He blinks, looking around the bedroom. Hizashi isn't present. Did he get called away? Normally he'd wake Aizawa to let him know, assuming Aizawa didn't wake when the call came.

Crawling out of bed, feeling actually half-rested, Aizawa stumbles out of the bedroom.

"Meeeerry Christmas!"

Oh. Right. It's Christmas, which is why they're actually back in their shared apartment and not in the campus dorms, watching over their difficult, wonderful, precocious charges. Aizawa scratches at his ear, pushing tangled hair out of his eyes. "Hi."

Hizashi laughs. He's already fully dressed and wearing a Christmas hat that has sparkling red LEDs threaded throughout it. "Sleep well?"

"Yes, actually." Aizawa stretches. "Thanks for not waking me." He looks past Hizashi to the stove. "And for making breakfast."

"Hey, I figured if I wanted you to do more than just try to cat-nap wherever you could, I have to let you get your beauty sleep now." Hizashi's eyes roam over Aizawa's bare chest. "Not that you need it."

Aizawa shrugs, not quite self-conscious but also not understanding the praise. He's still in good shape, obviously, but he's also taken a lot of damage this year. The fight with the Nomu scarred more than just his face, and the knife in the back during the yakuza battle left a nice little scar, too.

Something rubs against his ankle, and Aizawa looks down to see a little white long-haired cat staring up at him. "What."

"Ahhh!" Yamada's hands both fly up into the air. "No, bad Takara! You were supposed to stay in your box until he found you!"

The cat turns her back on Yamada, rubbing against Aizawa's other ankle. Her gait is a strange little hop, and Aizawa realizes her back right leg is missing.

"There is a cat." Aizawa lifts his gaze from Takara to Yamada. "In our apartment. That you are responsible for."

"No! Well, yes." Yamada holds his hands out to the side, shrugging helplessly. "One of my friends from Fliers Agency was looking for someone to take her in. She's six years old, she does great with the litter box, she's just... got some cosmetic issues."

Takara looks up at him again, and Aizawa notices that the fur is missing from her front left leg, burn scars pulling the skin into unnatural ridges. "You got a cat without consulting me."

"No, I got you a cat for Christmas. And the only reason I didn't consult you was that you would have said no for a whole bunch of stupid reasons." Yamada moves the omelet he was cooking onto a plate. "Think about this reasonably, Shota."

"I am thinking about it reasonably. We both spend most of our time living in the UA dorms now—"

"Where Takara is more than welcome. I already cleared it with the principal and the other teachers."

Aizawa pauses, having to reorganize his arguments. "We're both insanely busy. My class keeps getting into more trouble than any single group of human beings should statistically be able to."

"We're both always busy, and one of the great things about cats is that they handle that all right. As long as you keep a stable schedule for them, which should be easy enough given all the people around the school, and a stable environment, which we can do, and make sure they have enrichment, which, given past experience, you are going to spoil the fuck out of the little girl, they do just fine." Yamada grins. "Accurate point about your class, though."

"We're facing probably the greatest crisis of our lifetime, between the League of Villains and the loss of the Symbol of Peace." Apparently giving up on Aizawa, Takara moves over to Yamada's legs and begins winding around them. Aizawa wishes he didn't want her to come back so badly. "We don't have the time or energy to have a cat."

"You're right. We are facing the greatest crisis. Takara knows that. Don't you, little one?" Yamada bends down to pick up the cat. "She was injured at Kamino Ward."

Aizawa just stares down at the little cat. He knew there were animals injured and killed as well as civilians, of course. And for her to be so friendly despite the apparent severity of her injuries, most likely she survived when her original owners didn't.

"Come on, Shota." Yamada bends down and scoops the cat up, holding her out. "Hold her for a few seconds and then tell me that you don't want her."

Aizawa accepts the little cat, who settles into his arms as though she had known him all her life, her yellow-green eyes squinting up at him. "It's not that I don't want her. It's that it's irresponsible to take her. I've almost died twice in the last six months."

"I know." Hizashi's hand lands on his shoulder, sitting just above where the knife entered his back. "Believe me, I know. Which is why I want you to have a cat now. Not when it's safe. Not when it's perfect. Now. I don't want you to die still waiting for some mythical time when it's going to be all right to keep a pet, when you can promise that nothing bad will ever happen to her or to you."

"If I die—"

"Then me, or someone else if I'm dead too, will make sure that Takara gets taken care of. If no one else will, I'm sure your mother would take her in." Hizashi's hand is shaking, and his fingers clutch harder, as though by holding tight he can make sure Shota doesn't disappear. "But you're not going to die. Not until you get those kids of yours through graduation. So. You deserve a cat, and I got you a cat."

"No one deserves a cat." Aizawa strokes a hand through Takara's fur, and gently settles her back on the ground. She immediately scampers towards the counter where the omelet plates are, standing up on her single hind leg to try to reach them. "But I do like them. And..."

Hizashi slides an arm around Aizawa's waist, pulling him close. "That and should be followed with an explanation of how I'm the best boyfriend ever for actually providing you with the cat. The cat who would be homeless without you, and instead is going to be the most spoiled brat on the whole island, especially if your students or Shinso discovers her existence."

Shota leans his head against Hizashi's shoulder, watching their new cat as she gives up on scaling the counter and instead gallops back to them. "Thank you for the wonderful cat."

Hizashi's right hand twirls in a circle, and he hums.

"And your present is under the tree." Aizawa smirks, moving away from Yamada so that he can grab the omelets and put them on the table. He breaks off a small piece to offer to Takara, who makes a show of sniffing it all over and considering whether she actually wants it before daintily grabbing the bit of egg and running off. "Right where it's supposed to be, and where it actually stayed, unlike mine."

"Shota..." The whine in Hizashi's voice would be more appropriate coming from someone in Class 1A, and Shota ignores it. Hizashi turns towards where the somewhat pathetic little tree is tucked into a corner of the apartment.

"Hizashi." Shota smiles at the hopeful look on Hizashi's face when he turns around. "Thank you. Even if it goes terribly and ends up being a horrible idea... I'm glad we have a cat, and you really are one of the best boyfriends a guy could ask for."

"Well." Hizashi grins. "It wasn't entirely altruistic. Now I have a cat, too. But you're very welcome. Merry Christmas."

Aizawa mumbles out a response as he offers another bit of omelet to the cat twining around his legs.

It may not be a good idea to get a cat, but Yamada is right. There will never be the perfect time for a pro hero to get a pet. Just like there will never be the perfect time for a pro hero to date, or marry, or have children. Just like there will always be dangers, and the only thing All For One has done is make more people aware of those dangers. If Aizawa is going to be teaching his students how to live with and thrive despite that danger, then the best thing he can do is lead by example.

Hizashi squeals, extolling the virtues of the records he has just unwrapped. Aizawa smiles, glad that Yamada appreciates the gift. Aizawa only knew what to get him because Yamada practically spelled it out, but he also knows that Yamada isn't feigning his eager joy at actually having the objects of his desire.

The League of Villains wants people scared. They want people isolated, and alone, and afraid of each other.

Aizawa knows he won't ever be alone. The threads that hold the hero community together are numerous and difficult to break.

But sometimes, when he's up at three in the morning, it will be nice to have a warm living weight on his chest as a reminder of how strong those threads are, and how even tragedy isn't enough to sever them.

Fingers brush his hair aside, and lips press against his neck as he's leaning down to pet Takara.

Hizashi doesn't say anything, this time, and neither does Aizawa.

His favorite times are the ones that need no words.