#aem18

It's impossible to miss the change. Toshinori knows, the instant he sees them, that something has happened between the two men, and that they're together now. A cold, lonely sadness grips his heart in the same instant a warm, selfless rush of relief floods him, and he chooses to focus on the latter. Aizawa and Yamada are good men. They deserve each other.

They deserve every happiness.

Toshinori turns away, trying not to acknowledge the broken part within him that years for something like that too. He came to understand, long ago, that he couldn't involve himself with others. Back then it was about preservation – of his lovers' lives, of his image, of the time he needed to train and work – but now it's about a different kind of consideration. He's old; washed up and damaged, barely living, some days. He wouldn't dream of inflicting that upon someone else. What has he to give? There's nothing left. No matter how it made him feel when Yamada chatted with him, nor how thrilled he was to draw a rare, beautiful smile from Aizawa, he can't reciprocate.

He doesn't get a chance to congratulate them until lunch. The Monday morning schedule keeps them busy, and by the time lunch comes around, Toshinori is nervous. He struggles not to fidget with his cup of tea when the two men, walking so close they might as well be holding hands, approach him.

"I believe congratulations are in order!" he say with forced cheer, pushing a grin onto his face.

Aizawa seems taken aback, and Yamada frowns. "What?"

"Oh, you're, um... Are you not together? My apologies, I thought..."

He feels foolish, and drops his gaze, wishing he didn't always put his foot in his mouth.

The sofa dips beside him, Aizawa settling next to him rather than next to Yamada, who takes the chair opposite.

"Yes, we are," Aizawa says a little offhandedly.

"But we haven't told anyone yet," Yamada adds. "We wanted to tell you first – to talk to you, actually."

"To talk to me?"

"Yeah," Yamada confirms, "if that's okay with you? Maybe we can meet up after work? There's a nice cafe just a block away. It'll be our treat."

"Oh, I really couldn't," Toshinori politely declines, hoping neither of them pick up on the nervous way his hand trembles. He grips his cup tighter in an attempt to stop it. "I don't want to encroach."

"We're inviting you," Aizawa points out.

"Yeah, please come?" Yamada asks, leaning forward as if in earnest. Toshinori hasn't forgotten that look, the way his vivid green eyes light up with emotion when he talks, and he feels guilty for thinking of Aizawa's boyfriend with even a whisper of longing.

He pushes such things away, along with his hyper-awareness of just how close Aizawa sits, as if he's comfortable in Toshinori's presence; no doubt he just doesn't see any logical reason to worry about personal space.

"I, um... Okay," he relents after next to no persuading. He tries to tell himself he can do this. He can be a good friend.

"Awesome!" Yamada cheers, and Toshinori catches Aizawa smiling, exchanging a look with Yamada."We need to go grab lunch, and I have some marking to do, but we'll see you later, yeah?"

He nods, a little at a loss.

"Don't be late," Aizawa says as he gets up, his thigh brushing against Toshinori's, and oh gods, was he teasing? Flirting?

Fighting back a cough, Toshinori manages to nod. "See you."

Dazed, he stares after them. By the time he realises they're long gone, his tea is cold.

-

Time takes on an odd quality, both stretching on forever and passing in a flash. After what feels like a lifetime, and yet no time at all, he looks up from the lesson plan he's trying to revise for tomorrow to see Aizawa heading towards him. There's a small smile tugging at his lips, the expression soft and nothing like the manic grins he likes to terrorise people with.

"Yagi-san," he greets, and Toshinori can almost imagine that there’s fondness there.

“Aizawa-kun,” he acknowledges, tensing when Aizawa comes closer, invading his personal space yet again. “H-how did lessons go?”

“Well,” Aizawa surmises, glancing over his notes. “Are you done for today?”

Toshinori quickly gathers his notes, aware of the chasm of experience between them. “I think so, yes.”

“Good,” Aizawa says. “Come on, let’s go get Hizashi.”

Hizashi. Not Mic, not Yamada, but Hizashi. It’s so casual, and yet he can tell it’s deliberate. Aizawa isn’t in the habit of slipping like that.

“I think he’s in the staff room,” Aizawa says, waiting for Toshinori to stash his papers away before leading the way out of the lounge. Any attempt by Toshinori to traipse behind Aizawa is met with Aizawa slowing his pace, until Toshinori just gives up and falls into step beside him.

“Are you sure about this?” he can’t help asking, still unable to fathom why the two men want his company. If they’ve just got together then surely they want to be alone? Surely they’d prefer to be alone, and to have the chance to explore their new relationship?

“About what?” Aizawa asks, giving him a sidelong glance.

“Tea? Coffee? I’m not very good company.”

Aizawa gives a soft huff of laughter at that. “Says who?”

Toshinori doesn’t know. No one has ever said it outright, but it’s not hard to infer. Like this, an empty husk, he knows he’s worthless. It’s harder to smile when every part of him aches and there’s no mask to hide behind. He feels less, in every way. Of course he’s not good company.

Still, Aizawa’s challenge to his assumption takes him aback, and he hesitates, stopping just short of the staff room door. “I… don’t know…” he confesses.

With a nod that hints he’s understood more than Toshinori wants him to, Aizawa slides the door open and leads the way inside. As expected, Yamada is working at his usual computer, tapping away at the numberpad.

“Are you ready?” Aizawa asks him, perching on the edge of the desk.

Yamada holds up a finger in answer. “Just a sec… Three more to… go…”

The figures are quickly entered, and, with a few clicks to save an exit the grading system, Yamada leans back in his chair, swinging around to face both Aizawa and Toshinori. He grins broadly at them.

“Hey! My two favourite people!”

“Idiot,” Aizawa mutters so softly Toshinori almost misses it. It’s impossible to miss Yamada’s words, though, and they do things to Toshinori’s heart he never thought possible. The tug of longing is so strong, wrapping around and squeezing tight, while the cold realisation that his already abandoned hope will only ever be a dream pulls him back to himself.

With admirable energy, Yamada springs up from his chair, seeming to bounce on the balls of his feet. “Let’s go!”

“Not so loud,” Aizawa says softly, and Toshinori feels as if he’s prying. He knows the two men have been close since childhood, and he can’t quite decide if they were always like this around each other, or if their new relationship has made them feel comfortable enough to relax around people.

But then, none of the staff or students are gossiping. They’ve gone a whole day at work without telling anyone – apart from him – and without anyone finding out. So they can’t be acting differently; it’s just Toshinori’s perception of their interactions.

“Joining us?”

Yamada’s voice jolts Toshinori from his thoughts, and he clears his throat, trying not to flush as he realises he’s been caught staring. He doesn’t want to think about what kind of expression he was wearing.

“Yes! I, um…”

No excuse is forthcoming. Aizawa watches him almost with concern, while Yamada seems unbothered.

“Let’s go then! I’m dying for a gingerbread latte!”

“You don’t need any more energy,” Aizawa scolds, garnering a pout from his boyfriend before he turns to Toshinori. “Please help me restrain him.”

“Woah, I don’t think… um… Are you…? Oh! You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“I don’t think he is,” Yamada says forlornly. “You won’t be mean to me, will you?”

“Oh, um..”

“Leave him alone, Hizashi,” Aizawa interjects, saving Toshinori – for now at least. He sighs softly to himself, and then realises that they’ve fallen into step with Yamada and Aizawa either side of him. Carefully, he drops back and then positions himself on the outer edge, not wanting to come between them.

He pretends not to notice when Yamada looks up at him and Aizawa gives an almost inaudible sigh, as if he’s done something wrong.

-

The cafe isn’t far, nestled on the corner of the street overlooking the tree-lined road that ambles past. It’s cosy, and Toshinori instantly falls in love with the homely, almost quaint decor. It doesn’t try to be more than it is, and the simple decorations go a long way.

Their selection of teas goes even further still, and he stares, a little in awe. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to pick something – something not too fancy, but not so mainstream that he’s encouraged to pick again – and when the three of them at last settle down in a booth, waiting for their order, he can’t help wondering why Aizawa chose to sit right next to him. He almost feels boxed in, and as the seconds slip by, their tea brought out and served, he can’t help wondering what’s going on.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he finally asks, seeing that Aizawa is more interested in his tea and that Yamada is oddly silent, alternating between gazing at them both with a small smile tugging at his lips.

“It’s more a proposal, really,” Aizawa say with a small shrug. He rotates his teacup a quarter turn and then stills. “Although we don’t mind if you want to forget we ever had this conversation.”

It sounds far too ominous for Toshinori’s liking, and he swallows thickly, unable to guess where this might be going. Neither of them are giving much away. “Why would I want to do that?” he finds the courage to ask.

“Well, you see,” Yamada says, leaning forward a little more. He looks like he wants to be on the same side of the table as them, and is going to do his damndest to get there. “We both really rather like you” There’s a pause before he tries to elaborate: “Like-like you.”

The addendum does nothing to help clarify. Toshinori blinks at Yamada, lost.

“But you’re…”

“Together?” Aizawa supplies. “So? That doesn’t change the fact that we both find you attractive.”

Toshinori’s jaw almost hits the floor. “You find me…? Like this...?”

He doesn’t know what to do with the direct admission. It still doesn’t quite register. How can anyone look at him and see anything more than a wasted skeleton of a man?

“Yagi-san?”

Yamada reaches across the table, his fingers coming to rest lightly against Toshinori’s hand. It’s an invitation, but Toshinori doesn’t take it. He doesn’t do anything, too taken aback to accept. It would be wrong to accept. Yamada and Aizawa deserve so much more, and they already have it in each other.

“Do you like us too?”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, almost laughing. Of course he likes them. Who wouldn’t fall for Aizawa’s kindhearted nature the moment they saw it beneath his stoic exterior, or for Yamada’s vibrant, uplifting personality and smile that makes Toshinori’s heart ache with both joy and longing. The more he’s gotten to know them, the further he’s fallen, and the moment he thinks that, he realises he’s failed. He never meant to fall in love. He never meant to fall at all.

But life has a way of making you stumble, particularly when you least expect it.

Unable to lie, or to construct an escape plan with the few seconds he has, Toshinori pauses, and then nods.

Yamada’s face splits into a grin, his whole body seeming to fill with joy. The fingers resting against Toshinori’s hand twitch and then stroke gently, as if to reassure him of something.

“We talked, you see,” Yamada continues, his voice a little louder in his obvious excitement. “And we both feel our relationship isn’t whole without you. We wanted to ask if you’d be a part of it? If you’ll go out with us – both of us.”

“I…” Toshinori starts, trying to figure out a way to explain what he must.

“I don’t want to hear any self-sacrificing nonsense,” Aizawa cuts in before he can continue. He’s still so close, and his arm brushes thrillingly against Toshinori’s as he reaches out and lets his hand rest next to Toshinori’s too, just touching. “It’s time you took something for yourself. If this is what you want, be a part of it, if it’s not, walk away and we can pretend this never happened.”

Despite himself, and the careful code he’s lived by, Toshinori balks at the idea of walking away. He would never be able to pretend that this hadn’t happened. He’ll have to live with the knowledge that he turned down something beautiful; something precious and priceless.

“I don't know how to do this,” he breathes softly, his words not exactly a ‘yes’, but nor area they a 'no’. “I've never really been in a, um, relationship.”

Yamada looks mildly shocked by that revelation.

“Well, I'm not exactly overwhelmed with experience either,” Aizawa says to comfort him.

“And I've not done anything like this before,” Yamada adds. “But I know we can figure it out, if you want to give it a go?”

They're waiting for his answer, Toshinori realises, glancing between them and letting his head fall a little. He could so easily turn his hand and take theirs. All he has to do is say ‘yes’ and accept their more than generous offer and he’ll have something he never dared to dream he could find. He can, for a while, share in a little of their lives. He has no doubt that his presence in it will be fleeting, for so many reasons, but if they’re okay with that, with gifting him a little joy…

“Yagi-san?” Aizawa prompts gently. “Will you go out with us?”

Hizashi doesn’t think she’ll ever grow tired of how freeing it is to be herself. The simple joy of wearing the clothes she wants and walking hand-in-hand with her boyfriends makes her heart soar. At first it was hard to take the way people stared, but it wasn’t long before Hizashi realised, with some help from her partners, that people were staring just as they’d always done. Polyamory draws attention, and a beautiful woman with the former Number One Hero on one arm and another handsome man on the other will draw even more attention. People are no doubt envious.

And Hizashi has come to love it. Her heart bursts with pride as she walks with Toshinori and-or Shouta, and she feels like she can take on the world with them at her side. After all, they’re her everything, the two people who welcomed her unquestioningly with open arms when she came out to them. That time spent in darkness, lost and afraid, worried about what the future would hold, is becoming a valuable but distant memory, and although she still has her given name, she feels that the person she was is falling away with each step she takes: coming out to friends and colleagues, starting hormone therapy, updating her birth certificate. Today is another step, and it will put the past more firmly behind her. She’s even toying with trying out another new name – Minami sounds nice, and she can keep the same kanji for her name.

With Shouta out on a weekend patrol, it’s just Toshinori who can accompany her to the outfit agency. She doesn’t need to go so high-end as the only part of her costume that requires technical attention to detail is her directional speaker, but she fell in love with the outfitters work years ago, and has stuck by them.

The request she put in for a new outfit had been approved without question, and yesterday she received a message saying it was ready for collection.

Her Hero Licence will be updated too, and she honestly can’t wait. The appointment is for later in the day, an hour after Shouta’s patrol should end. She wants him there for that.

Squeezing Toshinori’s hand and turning towards him with a grin splitting her face, Hizashi finds herself speechless for a moment. She doesn’t think there’s a word that can describe how happy she feels.

“Excited?” Toshinori asks, smiling at her.

Hizashi nods. “I can’t wait!”

“It’s going to look amazing.”

She can’t help agreeing, having every faith in the outfitters. “Do you think we should send Shou-chan pictures, or wait until he gets home?”

“Wait, I think,” Toshinori decides. “He knows we’re picking it up, but it will be a nice surprise.”

“Yeah,” Hizashi agrees distractedly, seeing the building ahead and staring at it with unfocused eyes, a smile tugging at her lips as she imagines what Shouta’s reaction might be. He’s been nothing but supportive her whole life, honest with his critique where it counts, and she likes to imagine he’ll be thrilled with the design Hizahi submitted.

First, though, she has to see how it turned out.

They don’t have long to wait in the reception area before they’re greeted by one of the top designers and shown through into one of the wardrobe rooms. The spacious area is fitted with mirrored walls and a private changing area at one end, as well as comfortable seating for anyone waiting at the other, and a covered mannequin waits for her. It’s a lovely space to be in, and Hizashi can’t help catching her reflection, admiring the way her body has started to change.

“Are you ready?” the designer says, crossing over to the mannequin and taking a hold of the cover. “We hope you are pleased with the result. I personally oversaw its creation!”

The sheet slides away to reveal something far, far better than Hizashi could ever have envisaged, and her hand comes up to cover her mouth as she gasps. The costume looks incredible, capturing exactly the kind of image Hizashi wants to embody as a Hero.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathes, stepping forward to touch the jacket. It’s made of the same, highly durable but flexible pseudo-leather as her old one, and feels wonderful to the touch, soft and thick, the detail around the new, more mainstream collar drawing her eye and her touch. All in all, not too much has changed from the old design, but the new colour scheme of maroon and black, adorned with silver embellishments, is striking. She can’t wait to try it on.

“Would you like a hand with it?” she’s offered, as is standard.

“Just to get it from the model,” she requests, already drawing her hand from Toshinori’s so she can slide it beneath the jacket and ease the garment from the mannequin. It’s beautifully tailored, designed just for her, and something about that detail causes a lump to rise in her throat. This is an important milestone, just as profound as the time she got her first outfit.

She’s shown to the spacious changing room, and the designer carefully places her new boots on the floor and the new gloves on the small table for her. “Just call if you need a hand.”

“Thank you,” Hizashi nods, impatient to get the door closed. The moment it’s shut, Toshinori casting a grin her way before it’s closed, Hizashi shucks her skirt and top, stripping down to her underwear with next to no regard for the garments she’s discarding. Nothing is quite so beautiful in that moment as the promise of an exquisite new Hero costume.

And it’s perfect. Even before the pants are fastened and the lightweight, breathable top eased into place, she knows it’s hers. In the past, especially with her first outfit, there had been a lot of tweaking, details here and there that needed adjusting or altering. There will no doubt be minor things she wishes to change in a few months, but for now… The jacket slides into place as if it’s a second skin, warm and comforting in its sturdiness, and Hizashi feels like she can breathe. The ankle boots, with their weapon-like spikes adorning the three inch heels, are cushioned for comfort, and are as gorgeous as they are durable. It’s hard for Hizashi to stay still, and to contain her excitement at the prospect of going on her first official shift in her new gear.

Combing her hair back and posing, admiring the different angles, Hizashi closes the jacket and smooths her hands over it, gaze and touch fixed on the growing swell of her breasts. The jacket doesn’t hide or accentuate them, but the subtle, feminine silhouette of her own body brings a lump to Hizashi’s throat. This is who she truly it. She’s herself at last.

Her hands falling away with a sigh, she at last tugs on the gloves. They’re soft, but not yet worn, and she flexes her fingers, getting a feel for them as she reaches to open the door. Toshinori is waiting excitedly on the other side, and is out of the plush sofa the moment Hizashi swings the door open.

“Oh my god!” he breathes, a hand clutching at his chest. His eyes wide, he drinks in the sight of Hizashi, and she can’t help preening under his gaze. “You look so beautiful!”

“Doesn’t she!?” the designer agrees, moving towards Hizashi long before Toshinori has regained his composure. “How does it feel, Yamada-san? Are there any adjustments you’d like us to make?”

She shakes her head, flexing her hand tugging at the glove. There are studs on the back of it, both attractive and practical in hand-to-hand combat. “No. It’s perfect.” And then she looks up at them, beaming. “Thank you!”

The designer bows. “It has been our great pleasure. Now, if you’ll permit me, I took the liberty of having these ordered too.”

Curious Hizashi glances towards Toshinori, who has come to stand by her side, and the two of them watch as a small case is produced. Hizashi takes it carefully, and then realises what it is. She almost laughs when she opens the case up and sees a new pair of glasses in them, the frames silver-grey and the lenses tinted a soft red that matches her new outfit.

“I hadn’t thought about my glasses!” she giggles, switching them over immediately. “Oh okay, this is different.”

“Good different, or bad different?” Toshinori asks.

“I don’t know,” Hizashi admits, stepping away from them both to check her reflection in the wall-to-wall mirror. The person staring back at her is breathtaking, and it’s still strange to think that the strong, beautiful woman in the mirror really is her. A touch to the frame of her glasses confirms it, and Hizashi finds herself smiling again. “They look amazing.”

Toshinori is grinning at her, the designer clasping their hands and looking pleased. Free to do so, Hizashi moves back a little and shifts her pose, admiring the different angles the room’s mirrors allow her to see. Only her directional speaker is missing, but the outfit still looks complete. She touches it again, and then crouches down abruptly, stands, goes through some basic kicking motions to test the range of the fabric, all the while grinning.

“I love it,” she announces. “Absolutely love it! Thank you!”

“You are welcome, Yamada-san. Now, if I may, I’ll leave you for a few minutes while I package the rest of your things.”

She nods, and a second later she’s alone with Toshinori.

“Wow,” Toshinori breathes, moving in close again. His hands run over the new outfit, admiring it. For once, his gaze is more on Hizashi’s clothes than Hizashi herself. “And it fits perfectly first time. It was meant to be.”

“Well, I have been using them for over ten years, they have all my measurements on record.” Well, almost all her measurements. Her body is a little different now. “But you’re right. It does feel amazing!”

Toshinori still smiling, pulls out his phone and waggles it in question.

“Yeah,” Hizashi agrees, wanting to make the most of the fitting room while she can. “And then let’s head home. I can’t wait to show Shou-chan.”

“He’s going to love it.”

“He is!” Hizashi says excitedly, twirling and letting her hair fly out. She feels free: strong and beautiful, and the Hero she was meant to be.

-

Taking her outfit off to have it safely packet away for transportation feels like one of the hardest things Hizashi has ever had to do, until she realises she going to have to endure the three hour wait until Shouta’s patrol is over. At Toshinori’s suggestion, she leaves her outfit alone, only putting on her shoes to ‘wear them in’. It’s unnecessary, but, as they were new and clean, Toshinori allows the compromise. Hizashi thanks him for it with frequent kisses as they work around the house.

The moment she hears the lock in the door, Hizashi bounds into the hallway, letting the wall absorb some of her energy. Shouta is barely over the threshold before Hizashi flings her arms around him, burying her face in a mixture of capture weapon and hair.

“Shou-chan!” she breathes, smelling the fresh air clinging to him.

A hand comes up to pat her back. “It went well, then?” Shouta deduces.

“Yes!”

Shouta eases them back, pressing Hizashi against the wall before pulling back and letting his attention run over her. “Well, they’re very pretty boots, but where’s the rest of it?”

Hizashi can barely speak for the grin splitting her face. “Give me a minute!”

And then she darts into their bedroom, hearing Toshinori greet Shouta and the two of them discuss something in low, melodic tones. It’s such a familiar, soothing sound that Hizashi feels her heart ache. Who knew she would ever find such happiness?

Her outfit on, and her hair brushed through to make sure it’s neat, she leaves the bedroom.

Shouta and Toshinori are still standing in the hallway, and Shouta stops in the middle of his sentence when he sees Hizashi, his eyes going wide. Toshinori, having seen it already, just grins.

“I told you it was gorgeous,” Toshinori says, sounding vindicated, and more than a little proud. Hizashi’s heart skips a beat that that, and she turns a little, showing off for Shouta.

“Do you like it?”

It takes another ten, long seconds for Shouta to answer. In that time, he steps forward, reaching out to stroke the collar of the jacket, his eyes drinking in every detail. “It’s…” he says, and then swallows before trying again. “It suits you.”

“And the glasses?” Hizashi asks, a little uncertain about that detail.

With her heels on, Shouta has to look up to Hizashi, and he smirks. “Nice touch.”

“You like them?”

“I like them.”

Hizashi feels tension she didn’t realise she was carrying melt from her body.

“You look wonderful, baby,” Shouta praises, and Hizashi finds herself grinning again.

“Shall we get going?” Toshinori asks.

“Wait, is it time?” Hizashi panics, having expected to have another half hour before they needed to leave.

“Doesn’t hurt to be early,” Shouta shrugs

“Let me just grab my jumper,” Toshinori excuses, disappearing for a moment and then coming back with the cosy garment tugged into place. “Okay! Let’s go!”

Hizashi can’t argue with that and, thrilled to debut her new look, she settles happily between her two boyfriends as they make their way out.

-

The paperwork takes longer to fill out that Hizashi thinks it ought to, with more boxes for her signature than there are pages, but, at last, she’s done, and the paperwork disappears into the Registry office while the three of them wait. Hizashi can hardly keep still, tapping her foot and rocking back and forth on her heels. She’s too excited to sit down. Shouta seems to be napping in the corner, which doesn’t surprise her, and Toshinori is look almost wistfully around, a smile on his face.

“What is it?” Hizashi asks after another few minutes have elapsed.

“Oh, I don’t,” Toshinori shrugs, “just thinking about change.”

Hizashi grins. “Me too.”

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Toshinori asks. “I didn’t always think so; I was afraid.”

Hizashi knows what he’s talking about, and nods gently. “It’s lead to a lot of good things.”

“I would never have guessed,” Toshinori admits.

“And yet, here we are,” Hizashi smiles, and glances towards Shouta.

“Here we are,” Toshinori echoes, moving closer and leaning in to kiss Hizashi.

It’s at that moment that a bell chimes, and an abrupt voice calls out her new hero name. Hizashi pulls away, and notices that Shouta has woken up. He rises from his seat to join Toshinori as they wait for her.

“Here is your new Hero License,” the cleric says, handing it over.

Hizashi grins, looking down at her new photo and Hero name. “Thank you,” she breathes, almost laughing when she discovers her hands are trembling with excitement. “Thank you so much!”

And then she turns to her partners, grinning and holding the precious license out. “Look!”

“Congratulations,” Toshinori says warmly, before they pull her into a hug, Toshinori kissing her cheek while Shouta looks at the card and smiles.

“It’s a good photo,” he says, and then kisses Hizashi’s cheek. “I’m proud of you, ’Zashi.”

“Thank you,” she says, for the third time in less than thirty seconds. “Oh god, yes! I can’t wait to show it off!”

“Well come on, then,” Shouta says, starting to pull away. “I can’t believe how long that took. If we don’t leave now we’ll be late.”

“Late?” Hizashi echoes, another kind of excitement blossoming within her as she carefully tucks her license into her jacket. “Late for what?”

“We’ve made a reservation at the karaoke bar,” Toshinori explains. “A lot of your friends wanted to be there to celebrate.”

“We thought we could make an evening of it.”

Hizashi feels like her heart might burst. “Oh god! I love you both so much! Thank you!”

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

They're sitting in a coffee shop, tucked away in a corner by the window, and Shouta watches as Hizashi bites his lip, continuing to stir his drink. The sugar has to be dissolved by now, but still the metal chimes softly off of the porcelain, and Shouta wonders if he should repeat his question. Hizashi seems distracted, worrying about something.

"Hizashi?"

"What do you think of Yagi-san?"

It's the same question Hizashi asked him on Monday morning, when he looked as if he'd spent the entire week crying. Shouta grinds his teeth a little, still frustrated at himself that he didn't realise his best friend was upset before then.

"Do you like him?"

"What's not to like?" he replies dryly, feeling somewhat resentful. Yagi might be a terrible teacher and have a bad habit of exploding into his Hero form at random times, but his heart is in the right place, and Shouta has an unfortunate soft spot for extravagant, kind-hearted fools. The things he dislikes are vastly outweighed by those he does, and he wishes they weren't having this conversation because he doesn't want to think about the vast chasm between them; it almost hurts.

"No, I didn't mean..." Hizashi sighs, going back to stirring his coffee.

"You like him," Shouta deduces. Hizashi's lack of response confirms it, and he tries not to think about the flutter of what he guesses is jealousy that grips him. He pushes it aside. "You don't need my approval. Just go for it. You'd be good for each other."

Hizashi looks up at that, his expression hopeful. "We would?"

And then he shakes his head, letting it fall again, and some of his hair slips free of the tie. Shouta watches the flow of golden hair, longing to reach out and touch it. He's starting to wonder if he has a thing for blonde hair, as well as kind-hearted fools.

"What do you think of me?"

The question takes Shouta by surprise. He stops, staring, as Hizashi slowly looks up at him.

"Do you think you could ever fall for like someone like me?"

Shouta swallows thickly, the involuntary action somehow harder than facing a dozen villains head-on. He can't tell Hizashi, he can't...

"I..." he chokes out, his throat drier than his eyes. He's caught, held captive by Hizashi's pleading gaze. Hizashi is trying to come off as calm and collected, but there's something desperate in his eyes, something broken and bleeding.

With the weight of all the years of their friendship bearing down on him, Shouta finds it hard to form words and whispers the terrible, secret truth he's tried to shut out for so long but can never be free of. At this point, he doesn't want to be free of it.

"I've already fallen for you."

Hizashi gasps, going rigid, and Shouta feels panic gripping him as he watches, waiting to see how the only friendship he's ever held dear will come to an end. His decision to be honest seems foolish now, his heart racing, trying to beat its way out of his chest. The physical pain of that happening might be enough to distract him from the trainwreck about to happen right before his very eyes.

"And Yagi?"

The question throw him off balance.

"Why do you keep asking about Yagi-san?" It doesn't factor in to what they're now talking about. It makes no sense.

"Have you fallen for him? Could you? If he was okay with this – with us – would you want to be with him?"

Shouta's eyes go wide, the penny dropping.

"You want...? All three of us...?"

"We can talk about it!" Hizashi rushes to reassure him. "I just wasn't sure about you. I've seen the way he looks at you, and I think he likes me too although I could just be misreading. I seem to be misreading people a lot lately..."

He's slipping into melancholy, and Shouta scowls at the threat of it. "You're fine, Hizashi," he says sternly, snapping his friend's attention back to him. He's given a thin, wavering little smile for his intervention.

"So would you?" Hizashi presses. "The three of us together?"

Shouta almost shakes his head, his chest aching. He would, but there's no way... No way in hell...

"I don't know how it would work," he concedes at last.

"Nor do I," Hizashi admits softly, before leaning in a little. Fuck, he looks so beautiful, and so earnest, that Shouta wonders if leaning over and kissing him would be inappropriate. Hizashi hasn't said, in so many words, that he likes Shouta, but it's not a hard conclusion to reach. Still, despite the obvious truth betrayed by Hizashi's words and, to an extent, his action, Shouta hesitates. He feels doubt. He's afraid to reach out, in case he somehow has this all wrong.

"I've not done this before," Hizashi continues. "But I think we can figure it out. I just wanted to know if we had a chance; if you, um... liked me."

Shouta stares, wondering how anyone in the world couldn't like Hizashi. He has a heart of gold, and fills Shouta's lacklustre life with more joy and radiance than he deserves. He's pleasing to look at and pleasing to be around, even if Shouta does protest the decibel levels he can reach sometimes. Hizashi has been a part of his life for so long Shouta can't imagine a world without him, and he wonders if that's reason enough to shut this idea down before it can go any further. Romance between friends is risky, and between colleagues even riskier.

But Hizashi is lonely. He's hurting, and he's been hurting for so long, always trying to find something but never managing to find it. Maybe Shouta can give him something of what he needs, and perhaps Yagi can fill in the parts Shouta can't. Surely together they can make Hizashi happy.

And maybe even fill the loneliness in their own lives. Shouta won't pretend he hasn't noticed just how isolated Yagi is, and how alone he seems even when surrounded by people. Without his Hero form he looks lost, adrift in a world he's not sure how to navigate. He's lost so much, and perhaps with love and support from Shouta and Hizashi he can come to terms with that and discover himself anew.

Or, perhaps, he'll balk at the idea, and run a mile from how bizarre and freakish it is. Shouta doesn't know. He should probably leave the talking to Hizashi, who has a far better understanding of people than he does. Shouta can break down the basics and analyse the facts. He doesn't like to speculate about such things as emotions.

He doesn't really enjoy emotions. They've never brought him much joy, and is ineptitude with them is part of why he doesn't let people in: he doesn't know how to act or react in a way that won't harm the person he allows himself to care for. He knows that, sooner or later, his emotional unavailability is going to cause issues, as will his intense hours, dry personality, and life-consuming jobs. There's nothing in his life worth sharing; there's nothing in it worth anyone's time.

But Hizashi already knows that.

He's the only person Shouta has ever managed to be close to for an extended period of time – more than half their lives, now – and who hasn't pulled away. Even Nemuri and Tensei are kept at an arm's length, and they often gravitate in different circles. With Hizashi, Shouta feels like he is his circle, and whether he wants it or not he is dragged into thing and hears about every little detail of Hizashi's life.

Or, almost every detail. Hizashi's romantic interests and involvements have always been vaguely alluded to. Hizashi put on a very convincing mask following his recent break-up. He was determined to hide his pain.

The bonus of being with Hizashi would be that he not only wouldn't have to hide his pain, but he'd also have less reason to feel it. The more Shouta thinks about it, the more logical it is for him and Hizashi to go for it and let their friendship grow into something more.

"So, you like me too?" he says at last, at peace with the possibilities opening up before him. He doesn't know Yagi well enough to know exactly how any sort of relationship might go, but he has enough of a measure of the man to know it has a high probability of turning out well.

Across the table from him, Hizashi is blushing. The colour staining his cheeks is as unexpected as it is beautiful, and Shouta's heart defies its preordained rhythm and skips a beat.

"Yeah. I kinda have for a while."

"You never said anything before."

"I didn't want to ruin our friendship."

"What's different now?"

Hizashi chews his lip, slender fingers fidgeting with the napkin. "I'm tired. I'm tired of trying to find something I feel like I already have. I don't want more heartache, I want to settle down and enjoy getting old without worrying about going on dates or getting to know someone only to find out, a month or two down the line, that it's not going to work, that our dreams don't align, or that I was just a stopgap, or a bit of fun. I don't want to worry that I won't be understood, and that they'll push for more than I can give and try to demand I change my life for them and give up my jobs. I don't want feel bad for who I am. I want to wake up every day next to a friend, not a stranger I feel I'll never connect with, no matter how hard I try."

Wordlessly, Shouta reaches across the table, sliding his hand towards Hizashi's. Hizashi, so caught up in his words and with painful tears welling his eyes, doesn't notice until the moment Shouta, his heart racing, laces their fingers together.

"I understand," he says simply.

Hizashi melts at that, going alarmingly lax. "Oh, Shouta," he breathes, his chest shuddering. He sniffs, his fingers twitching between Shouta's. "Can we do this? Will you go out with me?"

Shouta nods, the action stilted and jerky. "Yes."

There's a sob of relief, and Shouta allows the carefully constructed walls around his heart to fall a little, melting away as he gazes at Hizashi. Even with tears clinging to his lashes and his nose running he's beautiful, and, somehow, he's Shouta's boyfriend. Just like that, he's in a relationship with one of the best people he's ever had the honour of knowing.

And, together, they're going to ask Toshinori to join them.

It doesn't seem real.

"Hizashi?"

"Hm?" Hizashi answers, wiping at his cheek with his free hand.

"You know I never want to hurt you. If we do this but it doesn't work out, if it's not right for you, I want you to promise me you'll tell me. Don't keep going for my sake. Don't hide. If I can't give you what you need, I want to step aside so you can find someone who can."

"Oh, Shou-chan," Hizashi whimpers, now downright squeezing Shouta's hand. "Okay. I promise, but it's never going to come to that."

Shouta hopes not, but Hizashi’s understanding is a relief.

"Hey," Hizashi says softly, hiccuping softly. He's smiling now, the tentative expression tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Can I kiss you now?"

He can see no reason to object. After all, no one is watching, and Shouta has lived with this unacknowledged longing for so long he figures it's about time.

"Yes," he say, pushing his cup aside so he can lean forwards.

Hizashi is outright grinning, now, his joy radiant and infectious. It's a little dizzying to know that he's the cause of it.

"God, I've wanted to do this forever!" Hizashi says.

Shouta gives a soft huff. "Then get on with it."