“You’re in charge of my class for the day.”
“I’m what?” Hanta almost yells, because no. No, Shouta always gets the worst classes, Hanta’s included, Hanta’s especially, and this year’s first-years are almost as bad. He should know, he’s been TA-ing for Shouta for months now.
“You’re in charge of my class for the day,” Shouta repeats, like the issue here is that Hanta somehow did not hear or understand him, rather than the issue being that Hanta is not emotionally ready to be in charge of Shouta’s class.
“Are you going to explain why?” he asks, rather than continuing to fixate on the fact that this is a terrifying development!
“Something came up. I’ll explain more later.”
“Alright.” Hanta nods, and swallows, and squares his shoulders. He can do this. He’s reasonable. He’s level-headed. He may have only been a TA for less than a term, but he can do this. He somehow managed to help Eijirou wrangle Katsuki for years, and none of these kids have anything on Katsuki.
There’s a familiar echo of pain at the thought of his friend, but it’s old, familiar, and just that: an echo. Of course, he still misses Katsuki, but it’s been two and a half years since his death.
The grief is an old friend.
“Hizashi may also be inviting you over for dinner tonight or tomorrow,” Shouta adds, and that has Hanta’s eyebrows raising, because that’s an interesting development. They’re… Hanta’s fairly comfortable saying that he’s friends with his former teachers, especially now that they’re coworkers, but he doesn’t think anyone ever gets invited over for dinner. Nemuri does, and occasionally Tensei and Tenya, but… that’s most of them, he thinks.
“Alright,” Hanta replies. “I’ll keep my schedule clear.”
There’s really nothing more to say after that, so they hang up, and Hanta flops face-first onto the couch in the teachers’ office in order to mentally prepare for the day. It’s not long before he hears the click of Nemuri’s boots approaching.
“Shouta told me he was leaving you in charge of his class,” she says. “If you need help, just message me. My kids are pretty well-behaved.”
“Sure thing,” Hanta grunts, and he’s left alone after that.
He only lays there for a few minutes, before rolling off the couch and walking over to Shouta’s desk. The day’s lesson plans and notes are at the top of the top drawer of the desk, as they always are, so he pulls them out and reads them through.
This is manageable, he thinks, reading through them. As long as the kids are mostly chilled out—which they won’t be, because Hanta is technically a substitute, and kids are never respectful of substitutes—then this should be easy!
Of course, Hizashi walks in on him having half a panic attack at Shouta’s desk as he considers exactly how terrible today’s going to go. He’s not prone to panic attacks, so this isn’t really one, it’s not, because he has had them before and this is distinctly Not That, but he is freaking out a lot because he’s not ready.
“Oh,” Hizashi winces. “Want some help with Shouta’s class today?”
“Please,” Hanta wheezes. “But you have your own class.”
“My third-years are much more reasonable than Shouta’s first-years are, though,” Hizashi replies. “We could trade!”
“If Shouta wanted us to trade, he would have had us trade.” Hanta shakes his head. “Besides, if he’s leaving me in charge, then he must think I can do it! He wouldn’t put me in charge of them if he didn’t think I could handle them.”
Hizashi cheers and fist-pumps. “That’s the spirit! If you really need a last-minute save, you can message me, but I’m sure you’ve got this! Besides, those kids are enamored with you, I doubt you’ll have any huge problems.”
“Thanks,” Hanta says, taking a deep breath and smoothing down his hair from where he’d messed it up while having his mild fit of anxiety.
It turns out Hizashi’s right, which. Of course. Hanta has almost no trouble with the class, except for the moment where he has to restrain one of the students, the one that reminds him of an unholy mix of Katsuki and Mina, when the kid almost kneecaps a classmate on accident.
So, he goes into his lunch break feeling confident and self-assured. He can do this! Shouta put him in charge of his class, Shouta believes in him, and he’s proving him correct!
That lasts until he checks his phone.
Class Hella Gay!!!
is there water on the moon?
Hey, has anyone heard from Izuku at all today? There’s no mention of him on the news or anything at all.
there is no water on the moon, fuck you
It’s not like not hearing from him is exactly unusual
Please Stop Changing My Nickname To Sonic
I have messaged him.
is there water on the moon?
Maybe you’re right, Shouto, but normally he’s been on the news a FEW times before lunch. And it’s not like he ever takes days off unless he’s FORCED to.
mouthman
I’m concerned, too. I don’t have pings set up for every news story involving him like Ochako does, but it is odd that no one’s seen anything of him all day.
there is no water on the moon, fuck you
Maybe he’s actually taking a day off or something.
is there water on the moon?
You know EXACTLY how likely that is.
there is no water on the moon, fuck you
Yeah. I’ll leave you to this.
is there water on the moon?
Yeah, yeah, you go ahead and fuck off.
Now, maybe Hanta’s not as concerned as Ochako is. Maybe it’s because he’s not as close to Izuku, because he’s not his best friend the same way Ochako and Tenya are, but he’s not…
Ochako sounds like she’s well on her way to a freak-out over this, and Hanta just… isn’t. He’s a little worried, yes, but mostly… Mostly, he thinks that’s resignation he feels, because if Izuku’s dropped off the face of the earth, then there’s only a handful of reasons why, and… none of them are good. Hospitalization and death are about the sum total of explanations he can come up with.
Although… if he’s dead, it would probably be on the news—
“Hey, Hanta, you have a few minutes to talk?”
He twitches, almost dropping his phone, at the sound of Hizashi’s voice. He catches sight of the man’s face when he turns, taking in the serious set of his mouth.
“Uh, yeah,” he replies, standing up and sliding his phone into the pouch on his belt, following Hizashi out of the staff room and through the halls, to one of the soundproofed meeting rooms. “So what do you want to talk about?”
Hizashi sighs as he sits, a long exhale of air from his lungs as he folds down and flops onto the couch. Hanta sits on the other end of the couch, apprehension prickling at his chest.
“This is… sensitive,” Hizashi says, “but Shouta and I know we can trust you to use your discretion about it.”
“Okay,” Hanta says, nodding, the prickling in his chest increasing.
Hizashi sighs again, shifting his legs and rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m just going to channel Shouta and be blunt as hell: Midoriya is staying with us, for the moment, after almost committing suicide this morning.”
“What?” Hanta blinks, shaking his head and holding up one hand. “No, wait, I’m just—processing. That—okay. Okay, okay. Why are… why are you telling me?”
It takes Hizashi a few moments to figure out his next words. “Shouta is… tentatively hopeful that this could be a turning point for Midoriya. We’ve been… watching him self-destruct for years, and Shouta’s told me… Well, yeah, this could be a turning point. And for that to happen, he’s going to need a lot of help.”
“You think he’s actually going to accept the help?” Hanta asks, raising an eyebrow. “He’s worse than Katsuki was.”
“He called Shouta last night,” Hizashi replies. “And he let Shouta help him. And… if Shouta thinks that this is the turning point, then I’m inclined to trust him on that.”
Hanta nods, fingers tapping on his leg as he thinks. “So… you’re asking for my help, to help him…”
“Yes,” Hizashi nods. “I think we’re going to be talking to a lot of people about this, but you just happen to be the closest, and, perhaps, one of the best options. You’re level-headed and calm, and while you are one of Midoriya’s friends, you’re not quite so close as Tenya and Uraraka are.”
“Okay.” Hanta agrees, because Hizashi and Shouta aren’t the only ones who have been watching Izuku destroy himself. “Tonight or tomorrow?”
“I’ll message Shouta,” Hizashi replies, shoulders relaxing and tension leaving his face at Hanta’s reply. “And—Midoriya’s been isolated, according to Shouta. Very isolated. And—” he stops and rubs his hand over his face again, running a hand over the gelled-stiff surface of his hair.
“It’s not going to be pretty,” he finally says.
And Hanta nods, because he knows. Breakdowns are never pretty.
“Let me know when,” he says, standing up and swinging his arms for a moment. It may be because of his quirk and the weird formulation of his elbows, but he’s always had circulation problems in his hands, so it takes a few moments of tingling in them before they feel normal again.
“Shouta already texted back,” Hizashi says, glancing at his phone. “Tonight?”
“Tonight, then,” Hanta nods. “Do you want me to head over right after I’m off, or meet at a later time?”
Hizashi frowns, lower lip jutting out just a little. “Later would probably be better. We usually eat dinner around six, so showing up between five-thirty and six would be good.”
“Alright. You should probably also consider telling Shouta to contact Ochako, even if he’s not going to tell her specifics,” Hanta adds. “She’s been freaking out in the group chat, since Izuku hasn’t been seen at all today.”
“I’ll do that now,” Hizashi says, and his thumbs tap away at his phone as Hanta leaves the room.
The afternoon passes slower than the morning did, with the heavy knowledge of what’s happened and what’s coming hanging over his head. It’s a theoretical heroics lesson this afternoon, thankfully, so there’s less risk of him missing something because his head’s not entirely in the game at the moment.
Classes pass, and with them, so do his distractions. As he rides the train home, he pulls of the Class A groupchat.
Class Hella Gay!!!
is there water on the moon?
Okay, Aizawa texted me, he says Izuku’s okay but isn’t telling me specifics.
spear and shield but lovingly
That’s good! But uh if he isn’t telling you specifics then doesn’t that worry you just a little bit?
is there water on the moon?
YES IT FUCKING DOES PLEASE DON’T TALK ABOUT IT
spear and shield but lovingly
Alright! I’m sure everything will be okay.
there is no water on the moon, fuck you
I’m not
mouthman
Shouto, please shut the fuck up.
is there water on the moon?
Okay, Shouto, you know what, I will ban you. I will call Tenya, right now, and make him ban you.
Please Stop Changing My Nickname To Sonic
I’m not going to ban Shouto, but I am going to ask him to please be more considerate.
there is no water on the moon, fuck you
Knowing Izuku, he’s either hospitalized and near death because of an un-reported-on fight, or he’s hospitalized and near death because he ignored his physical needs until he literally collapsed. Or he ignored that he was getting sick and collapsed. Chances are, everything’s NOT going to be okay, because this is Izuku and he is never okay.
chestburster Full Of Love!!!
You’re right but you shouldn’t say it.
there is no water on the moon, fuck you
No, I think it needs to be said. You’re all trying to deny the elephant in the room. If Izuku’s dead or catastrophically injured, I’m not going to be surprised, because that’s all we ever hear from him.
is there water on the moon?
I’m not trying to deny anything. If Aizawa says Izuku’s okay, then I’m going to trust that. Besides, if Izuku were in the hospital, I’m sure I would have fucking heard so by now.
Your Goddess!!! :D
Actually, he took you off his emergency contact list after that last fight! Well, not a fight, but whatever it was. I’m pretty sure Iida and I are both still on it, though, and I sure haven’t had any scary hospital calls yet today.
is there water on the moon?
Oh
there is no water on the moon, fuck you
Who the fuck let Mei back in here???
Your Goddess!!! :D
I stole Izuku’s phone and let myself in a few weeks ago! I’ve also added Melissa, but I think she’s working right now!
Please Stop Changing My Nickname To Sonic
You’re On Thin Fucking Ice
Your Goddess!!! :D
Love you too, Iida! ;P
is there water on the moon?
So Izuku’s probably not hospitalized, and Aizawa says he’s okay, but he still hasn’t been seen like at all by anyone and Aizawa’s not saying anything specific…
cryptid
I’m not dead or hospitalized.
Your Goddess!!! :D
Izu!!!! Don’t forget we have an appointment on Monday!!
cryptid
I won’t
there is no water on the moon, fuck you
Wow. Good to hear from you. Sure would be nice if you’d pop in more than once a month.
hammock-maker
It’s good to hear from you, Izuku. Glad to hear you’re not hospitalized or dead!
Hanta and Shouto’s messages had sent at almost the same time, and Hanta’s half a second away from telling Shouto to calm the fuck down before his reasonable side kicks in and reminds him that, hey, Shouto’s emotions are perfectly reasonable, and that it would be pretty shitty of him to just throw Izuku’s personal issues out into the middle of, well, everything.
Ochako has no such qualms, however.
is there water on the moon?
Shouto, please shut the fuck up. If you’re just going to continue being an asshole, I’d rather not see anything you have to say.
mouthman
I think both of you need to put your phones down and take a deep breath. Izuku, it’s nice to hear from you.
Cat Whisperer
[image: a tall black horse with white pinto patterning, standing still and looking at the camera with one ear forward and one ear back. On its back, there’s a small child, with long black hair, iridescent eyes, and wide fingers sitting on it bareback, draped over the horse’s neck with their arms wrapped around it. They’re in a forest.]
cryptid
Cute
Cat Whisperer
This picture is from a little while ago, because Akira and Tooru went into the city today to pick up some things and have some Girl Time!
cryptid
Sounds like fun.
spear and shield but lovingly
Izuku!!!! Hey!!!
cryptid
Hey, Eijirou. Shutting my phone off for now btw.
chestburster Full Of Love!!!
Okay but did those messages seem really out of character to anyone else?
there is no water on the moon, fuck you
They absolutely did
And once again, Hanta’s restraining himself, his honest nature working against him, because he wants to explain what he knows, help his classmates understand, but he can’t, because that would be crossing a line he never wants to cross.
He fills his time at home with grading the assignments Shouta’s class turned in today and browsing Twitter. Already, there are speculation articles popping up—No. 1 Hero Deku’s Unexpected Day Off, Where Was Hero Deku Today?, things like that—and it makes something turn and curl in his gut as he reads.
In a way, he’s relieved that he never broke the top one hundred. Only a handful of them ever did—Izuku, obviously, and Katsuki. Eijirou broke top fifty, and Ochako had peaked at Number Seven before deciding to cut back on hero work. Shouto, of course, for his two years of hero work, had gone back and forth between Number Four and Number Five.
The rest of them barely even broke one-fifty.
Grading eats up his time, and soon, he has to leave if he wants to get to Shouta’s place in time. He’s wearing some casual jeans and a button-up, not worried about dressing up, because no one else there is going to be dressed up, most likely.
As he rides the train over, he finds his veins humming with apprehension. He’s not… It’s not like he doesn’t want to see Izuku, but the knowledge of exactly how low his friend came last night, of the kind of state he must be in… it presses in on the edges of Hanta’s mind, and it suddenly hits him exactly how unprepared for this he is. He’s had to talk a few people down from rooftops, or off of bridges, and even had to last-minute catch a few, but those were all strangers. And Izuku is… he’s past that point, it seems, already talked down (for the moment, a voice whispers in the back of Hanta’s mind, because he knows that those thoughts never leave, never permanently, he’s had harrowing phone calls with Eijirou and been there often enough to offer support to his best friend and heard enough from him to know that those kinds of thoughts never go away).
So, Izuku is past needing talked down, and Hanta has to figure out what comes next. Eijirou’s never come this low, never fallen this hard, so…
He’s a little bit at a loss.
However, he can’t stew forever, because the train reaches the stop he needs to get off at, and it’s only a short walk from there to Shouta’s house. It’s mid-evening, and starting to cool off, the neighborhood still caught on the cusp of late spring and early summer, the sky beginning to paint itself in pinks and purples.
It’s calm, with a light breeze, carrying on it the scent of trees and fresh-cut grass and asphalt. There’s a cat sitting on a fence and a flock of birds takes off from the power lines and soon, Hanta’s standing outside Shouta’s front door, hand raised and ready to knock.
He hesitates, taking a deep breath, and then knocks, three times.
A moment later, and Eri’s opening the door. She’s a tiny young woman, single shiny horn spiraling tall above her head. Her hair is chopped short, messy and tousled and still slightly damp from a shower, and she’s wearing bright-patterned leggings and a large, soft grey sweater he recognizes as being one that once belonged to Hitoshi. There’s energy and life in the way she moves.
She grins, easy and bright. “We were just waiting on you!” she says, stepping aside to let him in. There’s a pair of guest slippers waiting for him, and he slides his shoes off and slips into them.
“Sorry to make you wait,” he replies, smiling back at her before following her further into the house. There’s noise coming from the kitchen, the sound of Shouta banging around, cooking something, or maybe setting the table? Honestly, if Shouta’s cooked dinner tonight, then Hanta is… unsure whether he’ll be enjoying the food or not. He’s never seen Shouta’s cooking and he’s skeptical of if the man even knows how.
“Dad just got done cooking, so we really haven’t been waiting!” Eri replies, half-skipping into the dining room. There’s a Uravity hoodie hanging on the back of a chair that can only belong to one person, one person who’s currently setting bowls around the table.
Izuku looks… worn out. That’s the only way to describe him. There’s a drawn-ness to his face that’s probably been well-hidden under makeup, because Hanta knows he wears it, regularly, uses it to cover up the long scar that cuts across his face, from his jaw, over his nose, up to his hairline. If he can cover that wicked, twisted and raised thing, can make it disappear when he wants it to, then he can definitely make himself look healthy.
He doesn’t look completely terrible, though, Hanta has to admit. If he saw Izuku without knowing that he had just hit rock-bottom, then he could never guess it, because he doesn’t look like someone who almost killed himself. He looks tired, yes, but there’s a small smile on his face as Hizashi says something to him, one that reaches his eyes.
“Hey, Izuku,” Hanta says, raising a hand and waving. Izuku sets the last bowl down and looks at Hanta, his expression losing a little of its ease.
“Uh, hey,” Izuku replies, giving Hanta a small wave back. “It’s. Uh. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, well,” Hanta shrugs. “It is what it is! I’ve been a little busy, what with TA-ing under Shouta of all people.”
Izuku glances back at the kitchen and snorts, just in time to dodge Shouta and his pan of noodles. “I can imagine how stressful that can be.”
“Good to see you two are already ganging up to bully me,” Shouta deadpans. He sets the pan down and steps back from the table, turning his head towards the hallway. “Hizashi! Get out here!”
“I need to finish moisturizing!” Hizashi yells back, from what Hanta assumes is the bathroom.
“If it takes more than five minutes, you’re fending for yourself!” With finality, Shouta pulls his chair out and sits down. “Help yourself to however much you want.”
Hanta sits across from Shouta, watching as Eri all-but-forces Izuku into the seat between herself and Hanta, leaving the open spot for Hizashi at Shouta’s right.
It’s almost a mistake, seating Izuku and Hanta next to each other, what with Hanta’s righthandedness and Izuku only having a left hand, but luckily, there’s enough space for them to scoot apart from each other to avoid bumping elbows. Bumping elbows is especially dangerous with Hanta, because he has a lot more elbow with which to bump.
For the first few minutes, it’s pretty quiet, all of them focused on their eating. Hizashi shows up a couple minutes after they start, hair loose, draping over his shoulders and leaving trails of dampness at the ends of the locks.
Eri is the first one to break the quiet.
“Okay, so,” she begins, gesturing with her chopsticks. “I’ve been looking at unis again, and Tsuyu also emailed me back. She thinks she can get me onto a trip with her next year, which would be super exciting, but that means I would be having to take a gap year.”
“Nothing wrong with a gap year,” Shouta replies.
“That’s true,” Eri agrees, “but. Several of my scholarships won’t apply if I take a gap year.”
“I would go with Tsuyu,” Hizashi says. “Experience is its own education.”
Eri frowns, twirling one of her chopsticks between her fingers. “True, but if I’m going to be working mostly in Japan, then why am I going overseas for that?”
“Midoriya, you look like you have something to say,” Shouta says, and Hanta turns to see Izuku blinking, glancing between Eri and Shouta.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” he says. “Working internationally will give you a level of… well-roundedness that you won’t get if you only work in one country. You get to experience more cultures, more viewpoints, more… ways of life, ways of seeing things. And.” Here, Midoriya pauses, and frowns, teeth pulling on his lower lip. “You… never know where you’re going to end up. Just because you think, right now, that you’ll be working in Japan forever, doesn’t mean that’s how it’s going to be.”
Hanta nods, chuckling. “Yeah. When I was your age, I never would have dreamed, in a thousand years, that I’d be a teacher.”
“That’s true! Neither Shouta nor I ever thought we’d be teachers, either, back when we were eighteen,” Hizashi adds. Shouta rolls his eyes at that.
“We were both disasters at eighteen. No one would have wanted us to even consider being teachers.”
Eri sighs, her mouth twisting to the side. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Still… those scholarships are… a pretty big deal…”
“We’ve told you before and we’ll tell you again, you don’t need to worry about paying for university,” Shouta says. “Hizashi and I could pay for several degrees, at least.”
“Yeah, but still…” she shrugs. “I guess I can think about it more.”
For the rest of dinner, Eri and Hizashi drive the conversation, the two chatterboxes more than capable of smoothing over awkward moments and cutting up tension. As time passes, Hanta watches Izuku relax, the lines of his face softening, and despite the clear exhaustion and fatigue in the lethargy of his movements, his smiles, small as they are, seem to come easier.
They finish eating, and Hizashi shoos Izuku and Hanta out of the dining room, away from the kitchen. There are a few brief protests from Izuku, who wants to help clean up. Those only last until Eri hooks his arm with hers and marches him out of the dining room, leading the two of them to the living room and shoving Izuku onto the couch.
“You helped set the table,” she says. “Let the dads handle the cleanup.”
“But Aizawa cooked—”
“Nuh-uh,” Eri says, holding up a finger like she’s going to shush someone, but instead of pressing it to her own lips, she presses it to Izuku’s, effectively shutting him up. “We’re not going to make an exception to the chore-rotation rules for you. If you’re feeling really desperate to help, you can help me clean the bathroom tomorrow.”
With that, she turns and leaves, striding back to the kitchen, leaving Izuku and Hanta staring after her.
“She’s really grown up,” Izuku murmurs, and Hanta gets the feeling he wasn’t supposed to hear that.
Her exit leaves the two of them alone in the living room, Hanta standing and Izuku sitting, listening to the sounds of the Aizawa-Yamada family cleaning up from dinner. Neither of them speak, but Hanta feels weird just… standing there, so he sits down, next to Izuku, and feels awkward there, like there’s a livewire of pure awkwardness connecting them.
“So…” Izuku says, drawing out the vowel as he first lets his head drop, and then lifts it to look at Hanta. “You… know.”
“That you almost killed yourself this morning? Yeah,” Hanta nods. “I know.”
Izuku closes his eyes at that, the briefest flash of resignation crossing his face. “Not my… greatest moment.”
“Well, you can’t be brilliant all the time,” Hanta replies, nudging Izuku’s side with his elbow. “You… don’t have to worry about me judging you, or anything, you know. I’m just glad you’re still here.”
“I…” Izuku sighs, a big huff of air escaping him as he flops back against the couch. “I think I will be, too, eventually. I hope.”
Hanta nods. That’s… Well. “Is there… If there’s any way… If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know, okay? Anything. You have my number. You can call anytime, or text. Don’t… don’t feel like you shouldn’t.”
A long pause, and then Izuku nods. “Alright. I… don’t exactly… know what I need.”
“That’s okay,” Hanta says. “Sometimes it’s hard to know what you need.”
Izuku snorts, shaking his head. “Aizawa said that, too.”
“Well, he is where I learned that from,” Hanta replies, shrugging. “And, uh, I know that anyone else in the class will help, too, if you reach out to them. Maybe you’re… not ready, but, when you are… just. Keep that in mind.”
Izuku looks at him, and for several moments, does not respond. Hanta watches the rise and fall of his chest, relishes in the knowledge that his friend is still alive, and shoves away the other branching path, the one where the news today was filled with the news of his suicide.
“Okay,” Izuku finally says, nodding. “I’ll… try. To remember it.”
“That’s all I can ask,” Hanta replies. “Um. Would you be okay with… a hug right now?” Because, suddenly, just watching Izuku, hearing him, seeing him, it’s not quite enough right now.
And Izuku nods, leaning towards him, the two of them crossing the space. Hanta wraps his arms around Izuku’s shoulders, feels the smaller man bury his face in his shoulder, feels his arm press into his back, gripping the fabric of his shirt.
They hold each other, and they breathe.