Chapter Text
* * * * *
"Shouta, you need to take a deep breath-" Aizawa swerves around a truck, receiving a slur of honks that cuts of whatever his husband was about to say. He doesn't blink, eyes trained on the road and knuckles white with how tightly he grips the wheel. Currently, he's speeding down 92 in his squad car. He's also on the phone with his husband, Hizashi, who received a similar phone call a few minutes ago.
"He's in so much shit Hizashi. We're grounding him for life. You hear me?" Aizawa growls as he finally pulls into the school parking lot, phone held tightly in hand as he parks and shoves open the car door.
"Yes baby, and I agree with you 100%, but I really think you should wait for me to get there before you go in guns blazing," Hizashi tries to reason with his husband, but Aizawa is already storming up to the school doors.
"It'll be fine. Text me when you get here. I love you," Aizawa quickly snaps before hanging up, cutting off his husband's last desperate attempts to calm him down. He rings the camera and opens the school door when it buzzes, letting it slam against the wall. The man at the front desk looks up at Aizawa's entry, jumping in his seat.
He visibly gulps upon seeing Aizawa's furious expression. "H-how can I help y-"
"I'm here for my son. Hitoshi Aizawa-Yamada. Where's the principal's office," Aizawa demands, glowering down at the poor man. Normally he would feel bad, especially seeing as he's 6'2 and still in full uniform, but the circumstances are enough to push away the guilt.
"Down the hall, the d-door at the very end," The man stutters shakily, shrinking back in his seat under Aizawa's intense glare. Aizawa nods briefly before following his instructions and storming down the hall to the office, immediately swinging the door open.
"Captain Aizawa, I'm so sorry to have called you here on such short notice," The principal begins, folding her wrinkled hands on her desk. "We didn't have a choice due to the circumstances of the situation. My sincerest apologies."
The words fly over Aizawas head, and he eyes the woman up and down with a grimace. "Where's Hitoshi?" The principal looks past Aizawa's shoulder, and Aizawa turns to find his son sat hunched over in a chair leaning against the wall. Upon hearing his name, the purple haired boy groggily lifts his head, giving his father a lazy smile.
"Sup pops- what're you doin' here?" Hitoshi practically slurs, loose grin stretching his lips uncharacteristically wide. Hitoshi's face gradually falls as he takes in his father's furious expression, finally considering that he should feel guilty about his current predicament. Hitoshi scratches awkwardly at the back of his neck, averting his gaze to the ground near his shoes. "I may have gotten in a little trouble..." Aizawa heaves out a sigh before approaching his son, getting down on one knee. He frowns at Hitoshi's hazy red eyes.
"A little hm," Aizawa sighs, his exhaustion catching up to him as he stands. "Details?" He asks, but the curt question is directed towards the woman behind him.
"A member of my staff found Hitoshi passed out in the bathroom. We looked through his belongings and found a pencil case filled with multiple carts and vapes." Aizawa blinks in disbelief at the principal. "Seeing as this is his second offence, and that this has been an issue at past schools, he will be expelled as of today. I'll send both you and Hitoshi possible options for schooling and summer school."
Aizawa looks between the principal and Hitoshi for a moment, processing the information being shoved down his throat. This was the last available public school in their county. He massages his temples tiredly, taking a deep breath and exhaling heavily. Sure he makes good money, but not enough to afford a bougie school like Shiketsu Academy-- and even if they could, there's no way Hitoshi would pass the entrance exams. Aizawa had hoped-- he'd prayed it would be anything but this. At least then he could've tried to plead his son's case, or negotiate that at least Hitoshi changed, or something. He'd rather Hitoshi got in a fight over him being an addict and a drug dealer.
"Hitoshi, get your things. We're leaving," Aizawa says softly, expression schooled to hide the blinding rage turning the corners of his vision white. Hitoshi looks up at his father with wide eyes, seemingly sobered up for the first time since his father stepped foot in the office.
"What? Wait, that's- that's it? You're not gonna-" Hitoshi stands, angrily gripping his now mostly empty backpack in his arms. "You're not gonna argue? You won't defend me?"
At that Aizawa feels his anger reignite, and he whirls on his son with a furious sneer. "What is there for me to defend anymore Hitoshi? At this point them expelling you is a blessing!" His chest heaves, every breath making it feel tighter. "You could go to jail! Do you really not understand how serious this is?" Hitoshi flinches, shamefully averting his gaze at his father's harsh tone. "Because apparently you know every-damn-thing, right? So let's hear it Hitoshi; tell me how I'm supposed to defend you." The words find their mark, rendering Hitoshi speechless at the utter betrayal and scalding rage radiating from his normally composed father.
The door to the office suddenly flies open, and the tension in the room is broken as Hizashi hurries to his husbands side.
"I'm here! What- Hitoshi!" He almost immediately wraps his arms around Hitoshi, pulling him into a tight hug. "Thank goodness you're- wait." He pauses as he catches a distinct scent wafting around his son's hoodie. "Why do you... Hitoshi Aizawa-Yamada, please tell me that's not what I think it is." Hizashi steps away from his son, expression grave. The purple haired boy remains silent, averting his gaze down to his scrapped up converse.
"It is. Now let's go before I lose my shit," Aizawa huffs as a greeting, grabbing Hitoshi by the arm and pulling him out of the principal's office. He doesn't stop to wait for Hizashi, but he vaguely catches the rushed apology his husband says to the principal in his absence.
When they're out of the school building Hitoshi yanks his arm out of his father's grip, massaging his now sore bicep and glaring at him. "You didn't have to-"
"Quiet."
Hitoshi's mouth snaps closed, and he swallows down his words with a wince. Aizawa ignores him, making a beeline for his squad car.
"Shouta, can we talk for a second?" Hizashi says, finally catching up them. Aizawa turns towards him, letting his scowl fall slightly upon seeing his husband's worrisome expression.
"Get in the car Hitoshi," Aizawa says over his shoulder, before walking a good distance away with his husband.
Hitoshi begrudgingly complies, hoping into the passenger seat of the squad car and closing it more aggressively than necessary.
* * * * *
Hitoshi gets into his father's squad car, slamming the door and immediately pulling out his phone to find a text from Hanta waiting for him.
-----
Hanta:6 - u gt bustd bad man
_____
Hitoshi rolls his eyes. Understatement of the century if you ask him. Another message brings his attention back to the screen.
_____
Hanta:6 - likeee that was wrse thwn when I got expelld from my last school
Hitoshi:# - I'm fuking screwed dude all my shits gone my dads r gonna search my room could u run over t my house n swipe
Hanta:6 - fs
Hitoshi:# - thanks dude ur a life saviour
Hanta :6 - ofc ;)
Hitoshi :# - idk how I'm gonna pay Dabi back now though I'm so dead
Hanta :6 - Be fr gng yk I gotchu
Hitoshi :# - don't mess w me dude
Hanta :6 - why tf would I mess w u
Hitoshi :# - ...fr?
Hanta :6 - oms i gotchu dude
Hitoshi :# - Dude ur getting touched next time I see u
Hanta :6 - stoppp yk its no prob we gng fr
Hanta :6 - besides ik ud do the same for me
Hitoshi :# - OMS I would
Hitoshi :# - god I jus love u
Hitoshi :# - so how did ur mom react yesterday when u got caught again?
Hanta :6 - mmm made a scene in the office but jus told me I need t stop being careles whn we got in the car
Hanta :6 - I mean i am her dealr so i didnt expect much angr wise
Hanta :6 - she also mentuoned sum summer school I might go to but I wasn paying atention
Hanta :6 - aparently its for fucked up kids n shit but its th only way i cn graduate atp
Hitoshi :# - lmaooo maybe I'll end up there to
Hanta :6 - omg yesss tht wld be so ideal
Hitoshi :# - ong
Hitoshi :# - so my dads are def takinh my phone txt my burner
Hanta :6 - K lmk if u survive copzilla n the dj of doom
Hitoshi :# - ha fuckinv ha
Hitoshi :# - ur so funny said no one ever
Hanta :6 - get off ur phon emo fucj
Hitoshi :# - /attatchment/ *middle finger*
Hanta :6 - aww ty bbg ily
Hitoshi :# - later faggy ilym
-----
Hitoshi deletes the conversation from his phone, scrolling through the rest of his contacts and letting people know to text his burner before deleting previous conversations. He honestly doesn't care if he looks more suspicious by doing so because at this point, it's a little late to try and be discreet. Today was a total botch job and it's all his own fucking fault. He should've just gone back to class after getting his shit from Luka. Honestly he should've known better than to buy from the guy in the first place. His reputation is shit.
He should've known a deal that good would blow up in his face. God he hates being a cheapskate.
Hitoshi groans, dragging his hands down his face and peeking over to where his dads are talking by the minivan. As if sensing his gaze, they both look over at the squad car, and Hitoshi quickly averts his gaze.
* * * * *
Hizashi ignores their son, placing both hands on his husband's shoulders and fixing him with a semi-hard glare. "So you really couldn't wait the two minutes it took for me to get here Shouta?" Hizashi asks, though it's more of a demand. Aizawa can't meet his husband's sharp gaze, guilt instantly swarming in his stomach. This was something the couple had been working on for the past 17 years they'd been married, but being the stubborn men that they were, the issue was reoccurring and caused conflict at the worst of times. They were both guilty of barreling through problems they thought could be handled alone in the moment. Today it just so happened to be Aizawa at fault.
Aizawa takes a deep breath before reaching up and placing his hands over his husbands, meeting his gaze. "I'm sorry Hizashi, I should've known better than to go into a situation like this alone," He apologizes, eyes as steady and unwavering as his words. "We're supposed to be a team, and I was selfish to think I could handle this by myself without your input." Hizashi visibly softens at the heartfelt apology, gently rubbing from his husbands broad shoulders to his neck, letting his thumbs delve into the edges of the outgrown stubble beneath the mans' jaw. Aizawa is easily soothed by the touch, letting his own hands fall to rest lovingly on his husband's hips.
"Now we both know you're actions were anything but selfish," Hizashi grumbles humorously in a tone meant only for his husband to hear. "But... I guess I forgive you for being a stupid meat head." Aizawa huffs a short laugh before pulling away from the gentle embrace, opting to slightly pace a few steps here and there to relieve his stewing nerves.
"It's just- this is the third time. Not the first- Not the second- third!"
"Yep."
"And we both told him that if this happened again we might have to move. Right?"
"That we did my love."
"So why the fuck would he do this?!?"
Aizawa's pacing gradually picks up speed as he works himself up all over again. He's so in his own head that he can't feel how his husband watches him with soft but tired eyes, a placating smile on his face. A heavy sigh manages to pull Aizawa from his turmoil, and he finally looks over at his still scrub-laden husband. "I think that it might be a good idea if you went on ahead to the house. Toshi can come with me to run errands to give you a breather. You can check his room and pick up Eri from the bus stop." Aizawa digests his husbands words, eyes drifting over to where Hitoshi is sulking in the passenger seat of his squad car. Maybe he could use a minute to get his bearings together before dealing with this situation.
Aizawa sighs, nodding and pulling his husband into a firm but gentle hug. "Don't know what I'd do without you Zashi," He mumbles in the other man's neck, delighting at the slight shiver it elicits accompanied by the momentary tightening of arm muscles around his neck.
Hizashi pushes him away half-heartedly, rolling his eyes and grumbling, "Keep that in mind next time it's my night to cook. I better not hear any complaints, ya hear?" Aizawa lets a breathless laugh slip past his lips, smiling warmly at the other man. That he can do.
* * * * *
A few minutes later the car door opens, and Hitoshi looks up to find Hizashi. "C'mon, you're riding with me," The blonde man says, and Hitoshi blinks in surprise. He doesn't argue the new arrangement, grabbing his bag and following his dad to the minivan where Aizawa is waiting with his hand held out. Hitoshi looks at it and then back up to his father's stern expression, feigning confusion.
"Phone, Hitoshi. The first of many punishments to come," his father growls, still holding his hand out expectantly. Hitoshi relents, pulling his phone out of his pocket and handing it over with a shrug.
'Jokes on you, I have two burner phones under my floor boards. Bitch,' Hitoshi thinks, fighting the urge to smirk in the older man's face.
"Whatever dude," Hitoshi mumbles under his breath instead, climbing into the passenger side of his dad's old minivan and closing the door. He waits for what feels like hours before Hizashi finally gets in the driver's side.
Hizashi pulls out of the parking lot, turning down the road towards the plaza where majority of Linston County's store's are. "Your father and I hoped you would be better this year," he chokes, and Hitoshi is almost certain that there are tears brimming the older man's eyes with the amount of anguish the words exude. He doesn't look for confirmation. "We were so proud of you when first semester went off without a hitch. We- I thought you'd changed. Grown up." Hizashi pauses. "What was the point of waiting this long to do it? Have you been sneaking around behind our backs this entire time?" Hitoshi tries to pretend his father's broken words aren't shattering his heart. "That was a selfish thing to do Hitoshi. I hope it was worth it, because it's going to take a long time for us to trust you again."
The guilt that stabs through his chest makes it hard to breathe, and he inhales sharply through his nose. It hurts more coming from Hizashi of all people, because initially the older man was one of the only people he's ever truly felt at home around, even before he was adopted into their home. "I know," Hitoshi mumbles, sinking into the passenger seat and pulling his hood up. He doesn't bother apologizing. It won't make a difference, seeing as they would be the same empty words he said last time.
Hitoshi spends the rest of the ride home starring out the window.
* * * * *
Hitoshi is out of the car before Hizashi can fully put the vehicle in park. He jogs into the house, grabbing an apple from the fridge on his way to his room and ignoring the 'no snacking before dinner' rule. He continues through the small house, hopping over the couch in the living room and slipping down the short hallway to his bedroom, which is across the hall from his little sister Eri. The girl in question just so happens to be present in her space, and Hitoshi decides to poke his head in the door and bother her a bit. Y'know, like brothers tend to do.
"'Sup punk, how's the placebo tea?" He asks teasingly, smiling down at the small girl as she sits around a tiny wood table with multiple (uncanny looking) stuffed animals. He isn't surprised when the silver-haired girl throws him a nasty glare over the fake tea she's sipping from her cup.
Eri hums and diverts her gaze downward as she places her cup on the tiny matching plate. "Good, h-how's the dr-drug m-market?" She replies with a pitchy stutter, making Hitoshi wince at the stagnant words. He scoffs in defeat, sucking in a harsh breath through his teeth as Eri offers Mr. Tickle Pickle III, her 2nd favorite cat plushy, some more fake tea.
Hitoshi leans heavily against the door frame, raising a curious eyebrow. "Where'd you hear that from Ms. Know-it-all?"
Eri pauses, not looking up. "Poppa tol-told me," she replies quietly. It takes her another moment or so to continue, but Hitoshi has learned over time to allow her room to speak. "T-told me we mi-might m-move so you d-don't have to dr-drop out. S-said you'd en-end up a full t-time dru-druggie. T-then we go-got ice cream."
Hitoshi rolls his eyes. His dad's have said that every time so far. The threat is as redundant and empty as his own promises to stop dealing and smoking. "Well it's none of your business. What would you know about the drug market? "
Eri shrugs, choosing to remain focused on lifting another small plastic tea cup to Princess Snuggle Muffin Sparkle Cake (Her favorite cat plushy) 's mouth. It has a big fat head, one ear missing, and a tiny crown on its head that she begged Hizashi to sew on for her because "Princesses need crowns." All that's left of its eyes are old stitches where the beads were pulled out at the seams. It doesn't have a mouth. The thing honest to god creeps Hitoshi out, but the last time he mentioned how freakish it looks Eri put a mushy avocado in his pillowcase and he didn't realize till it was too late. (He's severely allergic to the point that the smell makes his throat close up. She knew this and did it anyway.) He doesn't dare look at it, even now.
"Mo-more then you," Eri says loftily, turning the conversation stale in an instant with the small concise statement. Hitoshi sucks in and exhales a painful but necessary breath through his nose because, sad as it may be, there is merit to her words.
Eri was about 5 years old when Aizawa and his squad force raided a gang's safe house and found her locked in a cage wearing rags. She'd been kidnapped, trafficked, and used as a lab rat for new drugs they were putting out on the black market. Eri had been there since the deaths of her parents a year prior, and the year long torture she somehow endured fucked her up so bad that the first year she moved in after Aizawa adopted her she didn't say a word. On top of physical therapy, she had to take ASL classes until they could get her into speech therapy. Even now, 3 years later, Eri still takes the classes to help with her stutter. Thankfully, her fearful behaviors have waned away over time, and her true spunky attitude has shown through.
"Did you have a good day at school?" Hitoshi asks, changing the subject. Eri shrugs, and Hitoshi can tell that's the best he's gonna get response wise. Her patience during Tea Time is non-existent, something he learned the hard way after taking a tea cup to the nose last month. "Ok, I'm gonna go. Have fun with your thingamabobs," He calls over his shoulder teasingly, slipping into his room and locking the door.
Eri stomps after him, banging her fists in anger on the door. "I t-told you no-not to c-call them that!" She screams before thundering back to her own room and slamming the door with a loud 'bang'. Hitoshi scoffs, smiling and laughing softly as he hears his Dad yell down the hall for her to keep the noise down.
Hitoshi crouches next to the end of his bed, shifting the wooden frame away from the wall as quietly as possible so that he can lift one of the wooden boards. He can tell his dad already searched his room because the little piece of paper he always leaves between the door and the lock was on the floor in the hall. He assumes he passed whatever secondary inspection his copaholic father did before he got home, which means Hanta got his stuff out in time. Hitoshi digs around in the hole for a moment before grabbing an i-phone 8 with no case that he's had since 4th grade. Opening snapchat, the first thing he does is message Hanta. Just in case.
-----
Hitoshi :# - Yo
Hitoshi :# - Did you get in and out??
-----
The sound of footsteps alert him to one of his parent's presences in the hall, and he hastily shoves the hand holding his phone under his pillow and lays on his side as if he were sleeping. When he hears the sound of faint knocking on the door across the hall he relaxes, pulling his phone back out as Hanta replies.
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Hanta :6 - fs
Hanta :6 - /attachment sent/*In-N-Out take out bag*
Hitoshi :# - ...
Hitoshi :# - Hanuel Jesus Sero
Hanta :6 - GOTCHAAA LMAOOO
Hanta :6 - kk but sriously i got it dw
Hanta :6 - /attachment sent/ *Hanta holding up a black string bag*
Hitoshi :# - be so fr. thx tho
Hitoshi :# - are we still on for tonight both my Dads are working night shifts
Hanta :6 - Whaaat they havn't done that since last yr??
Hitoshi :# - ik I thought they learned their lesson
Hanta :6 - guess not lmaooo when can i pik u up
Hitoshi :# - Whenever Eri goes to bed
Hanta:6 - perf lmk
Hitoshi :# - I will trust
-----
Hitoshi checks his other contacts, specifically the people he was supposed to sell to, and let's them know that they'll have to wait for their 'packages' another week or so. He puts the phone back in its hiding spot and takes out one of his emergency carts, zeroing it twice before hiding it again and sliding the bedframe back into place. With nothing to do, he decides that now might be a good time to check his e-mail for those schooling options principal bitch claims to have sent. Hitoshi grabs his laptop and scrolls through the options.
There's only three. Fuck, maybe his dads weren't kidding about moving this time around.
The first is Shiketsu Academy, but that's not happening because even with the money his dads get for adopting both him and Eri his grades have been shit since 8th grade. Everyone and their mother knows how rigorous the grading system is there. So hell no.
The second is a smaller public school called Isamu High. It would be a great fit for him personally because a lot of the other kids in the dealing business go there. Aizawa hates the schools guts, sadly. Next.
The third and final option is a school Hitoshi's never heard of. "UA High School, hm?" He mumbles absently to himself, clicking on the link and scrolling through the schools page. Apparently it opened 4 years ago and only has a total of 300 students in attendance yearly, including this years graduating class of seniors. He dives deeper, checking out the staff and parent-student reviews with curious skepticism. When he stumbles across the summer program for 'problematic' children such as himself, he blinks thoughtfully. This is probably the school Hanta was talking about earlier then.
Before he can look into it more there's a knock on his bedroom door. "Dinner in 5 Hitoshi," Hizashi calls.
"Got it," Hitoshi replies quickly, closing his laptop and rolling off the bed to his feet. Usually he would take his time getting to the table, but he might be able to score some brownie points from Hizashi if he sets the table and mopes around the kitchen for a bit.
He wanders into the kitchen to find his Dad standing at the fridge, his back to him. Eri is already at the table hunched over one of her coloring books, brand new crayon in hand. Hitoshi, knowing that his little sister doesn't like sharing her art until it's finished, decides to peer over her shoulder. You know, like the good big brother he is.
"Whatcha doin' punk?" Hitoshi teases quiet enough that only she can hear. Eri lays her upper body over the page she was working on, blocking her masterpiece from the older boy's vision and craning her neck to glare over her shoulder at him.
"N-none of yo-your business!" Eri hisses nastily, eyes shrunken to slits. Hitoshi retreats, hands raised in the air in surrender. He hums thoughtfully, smirking tauntingly down at her.
"Whatever dude, I was just gonna tell you you went outside the lines. Sorry for trying to help," Hitoshi jabs, heading into the kitchen as she huffs angrily behind him. In his peripheral vision he glimpses her doing a once over of the page. He pats his Dad on the shoulder, smiling at him. "Hey Dad, what're we having? I can set the table for us."
Hizashi startles at the offer, eyebrows shooting up and wrinkling his forehead in a way that shows his age. "You want to set the table? Without being told?" He asks monotonously, a short dry laugh slipping past his lips. "That's something I never thought I'd hear in a million years," he closes the fridge, placing a jug of Apple Juice on the table. Hitoshi follows after his Dad, tsking under his breath as the blonde man grabs Eri's favorite cup from the cupboard.
"Maybe I just wanna help my dear ol' dad out. That a problem?" Hitoshi replies easily, hands tightening into fists in the pockets of his sweats as he notices the tension in the older man's shoulders. The guilt he's been trying to ignore since the car ride bubbles to life, and he swallows the excess saliva in his mouth.
Hizashi side-eyes him, disbelief still frank on his face. "It would've been 'helpful' if you'd stayed in school," Hizashi snarks, clearly not buying his sons' 'I'm behaving myself because I want to' act. A small pitchy 'oooh' echoes from the dining room, and Hizashi fights the urge to laugh as Hitoshi's mask crumbles momentarily to show that his little sister's antics got to him. Relenting because he's never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he gestures towards one of the far cabinets. "Bowls and spoons. We're having chili and corn bread."
Hitoshi openly grimaces, withholding the urge to shush Eri as she cheers at the news. "Yay! Cornbread!" She cries happily, abandoning her coloring book to prance into the kitchen and retrieve the glass of juice Hizashi is pouring for her. "Cornbread cornbread cornbread!" She chants while jumping up and down next to Hizashi, who smiles down at her adoringly. Hitoshi begrudgingly retrieves 4 bowls and spoons, setting the table and ignoring how squeamish he feels watching how sweet Hizashi is to Eri.
"Yay, cornbread," Hitoshi mocks in a sarcastic pitchy voice under his breath, rolling his eyes as he turns away from his Dad so he isn't caught giving sas. Cornbread was the first real food Eri ate when she was adopted into their family. It's also one of the first words she could say without stuttering, for some reason. That isn't the issue here obviously-- the issue is that he doesn't like cornbread and that he absolutely despises chili, a fact that both his Dads know. It's mushy and icky and it's either too hot to eat or to cold to be pleasant and he fucking hates it.
By the time Hitoshi finishes setting the table everyone is sat at the table except for Aizawa, which is strange because the man is never one to actively be anywhere but home if given the choice. He doesn't question it though, seeing as it makes his life easier for the moment. Hizashi is busy typing away on his laptop, probably handling something to do with work at the hospital or one of his DJ gigs. The man still hasn't changed out of his scrubs, which Hitoshi assumes is due to his shift later tonight. Eri is alternating between stuffing her face with cornbread and scribbling away in her coloring book. That means he can eat without the looming presence that is Shouta Aizawa-Yamada. For now, at least.
"So what time are you leaving tonight?" Hitoshi asks Hizashi absently, taking a bite of his chili and chewing while keeping his gaze trained on his bowl. Hizashi ceases his dizzyingly fast typing, silence falling over the table in its absence save for the sounds of Eri smacking happily across from him.
"20 minutes give or take. I'll be on the clock from 6pm to 6am, and your father won't be back till 7am," Hizashi replies quickly, returning to hacking away at his lap top. Hitoshi swallows his barely-chewed bite in surprise, coughing and beating his chest to dislodge what he thinks is a bean from his esophagus. Hizashi is at his side in an instant, but before he can perform the heimlich maneuver, a pinto bean flies out of his mouth and lands on Eri's coloring book. Both men freeze, and time slows to a crawl in the moments before Eri notices the bean.
"Ew! E-ew!" Eri screeches, shaking her coloring book around wildly as she starts to hyperventilate. Hizashi hurries around the table to try and help, but the girl is already taking her coloring book and storming out of the dining room. "N-no no-no no!" She wails. The deafening sound of her bedroom door being slammed echoes through the house. Even with the door closed, her broken chants of 'No n-no no-no!' can be heard. Hizashi takes a deep heavy breath before grabbing Eri's half-full cup of apple juice and following after her.
"Dad, It was-" Hitoshi tries to say, but Hizashi pays him no mind, making a beeline for Eri's room and closing the door behind himself. Hitoshi is left standing in the dining room, able to do nothing but listen to his little sister's distressed cries. Fuck. "An accident," he says to no one in particular. His hands tighten, nails digging into his palms and drawing tiny beads of blood from his flesh. He pays it no mind, wordlessly making the decision to clear the table and pack away the leftover chili. He leaves out the cornbread so that Eri can snack on it later if she's in the mood.
Hitoshi is cleaning the last of the dishes when Hizashi finally emerges from Eri's room half an hour later. The man is quiet save for the shuffling sounds of him packing up his things and the jingling of his car keys. "Check on her in a couple of minutes. Don't go to bed till you know she's asleep," Hizashi instructs robotically as he makes his way to the front door. Hitoshi nods, tightening his grip on the bowl he'd been cleaning.
"It was an accident," Hitoshi says softly. 'I'm sorry,' he wants to say. Hizashi pauses, the unsaid words hanging between the two of them for a few moments.
"I know Hitoshi. It wasn't your fault," Hizashi sighs, hand resting loosely on the door knob. "Leave your door unlocked tonight incase she has a nightmare." Hizashi walks out of the house, and Hitoshi winces as the door clicks shut.
He peers over at the clock: 5:57pm. Great. So much for brownie points.
Hitoshi shuffles to his room, digging his burner phone out from under the wooden tile to text Hanta.
-----
Hitoshi :# - Hey you can get me at like 9ish Eri usually passes out before then
Hanta:6 - k bet
-----
* * * * *
About an hour later Eri makes an appearance, Princess Snuggle Muffin Sparkle Cake squeezed to her chest as she attempts to tip toe to the kitchen. Hitoshi notices her in his peripheral vision, clearing his throat and turning down the volume of his movie. The poor girl jumps, spinning around to showcase the dried tear streaks on her cheeks.
"Hey. You ok?" Hitoshi asks, maintaining his relaxed position on the couch. Eri nods slowly, watching him with warry eyes and gripping Muffin impossibly tighter. "Do you want more cornbread?" Another, slightly more enthusiastic nod. "You uh, want me to get it for you?" A pause. Her head shakes from side to side. "Ok, it's on the counter, help yourself."
Eri slips into the kitchen, and Hitoshi turns his attention back to the TV. A few moments later Eri shuffles back into his line of sight, the entire container of cornbread in her tiny hands and Muffin tucked securely under her arm. Hitoshi raises a questioning eyebrow, surprised when the girl plops down near him and begins timidly nibbling on a piece of cornbread. Hitoshi doesn't say a word as Eri munches away, understanding that this is her way of saying she forgives him. The two watch Shrek in companionable silence, and when Eri offers him a small piece of corn bread, he begrudgingly accepts.
An hour later Hitoshi peers over at Eri, only to feel his heart squeeze. She's curled in a ball on her side, Princess Snuggle Muffin Sparkle Cake loose in her grasp and empty tupperware next to her on the couch. He smiles softly, turning off the TV and reaching over to wake her. "Time for bed punk," Hitoshi whispers, gently nudging Eri in the shoulder. She whines, grumbling something unintelligible into Muffin's fluffy head without opening her eyes. Hitoshi sighs in exasperation. "Dude, c'mon, bed time," he tries again, nudging her with more force.
"I sa-said c-carry me," Eri whines sleepily, and as if to emphasize that she won't not be moving to her bedroom unless he complies, she snuggles deeper into the couch. Hitoshi rolls his eyes in feigned annoyance but obliges, scooping Eri up and being careful to avoid her long silver hair as he stands. She immediately relaxes against his chest with a contented sigh, free hand grabbing absently at the front of his T-shirt. Hitoshi feels his heart swell with pride. He'd never admit it to anyone, but it's times like this when he gets the hype that comes with being an older brother.
"You're lucky I love you brat," Hitoshi mumbles endearingly under his breath as he carries his little sister to her room. He places Eri down among her cat plushies and pillows, gently prying her small hand from his shirt. He pulls her favorite soft blankie over her body, tucking her in the way one of their Dads normally would.
"Night ni-night Toshi," Eri mumbles sleepily as she snuggles into her bedding, relaxing with a heavy exhale.
"Night night Eri," Hitoshi whispers softly, carding his fingers gently through her hair and scratching at her scalp as if he were petting a sleeping cat. Eri hums appreciatively, leaning into the touch. Hitoshi plays with his little sisters hair until her soft snores fill the room, and even then he enjoys the calming sensation of Eri's soft silver strands sliding between his fingers. He eventually forces himself to his feet, managing to sneak away and close the door behind him with a soft click.
Hitoshi stands in the hall for a few moments, listening for any sign that Eri's slumber has been disturbed. All he hears are soft snores. He hurries to his room and fishes back out his burner and his cart, plopping down on his bed with a relieved sigh. He checks the time: 8:36pm.
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Hitoshi :# - I'm ready whenever
Hanta :6 - Be there in 20
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