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Aizawa watched the map on screen. The weather report showed a mass of clouds rolling over Musutafu in a slow, lolling pace. If Yagi’s room had a window, Aizawa knew he’d likely see the storm, great curtains of rain buffeted by strong winds. And Yagi wasn’t back yet. Aizawa wasn’t worried about the other man, per say, but did wonder if he’d remembered to bring his umbrella. He’d already located his lover’s raincoat, forgotten in the closet.
When Yagi texted him that he was picking up yakisoba from one of Aizawa’s favorite places close to campus, Aizawa had invited himself over to wait. It wasn’t unusual, now that they had keys to one another’s rooms, for Yagi to come home to find Aizawa sprawled on his oversized couch. Yagi seemed pleased to find him each time, so Aizawa figured he was welcome. So, he brought his book over and killed time until Yagi returned with dinner.
A quiet clicking outside the door had the back of Aizawa’s neck tingling. He tensed as he heard someone outside, ready to use his quirk at a moment’s notice. The footsteps sounded like Yagi’s familiar gait, but the rapid tapping that accompanied them made Aizawa’s muscles tense as his body readied to flood with adrenaline.
The door opened and the first thing Aizawa noticed was Yagi. His defenses almost lowered, until he saw his furry companion. The dog stood knee-high on Yagi, at least when it wasn’t jumping on its hind legs. It pranced excitedly at his side, a fluffed mass of golden hair and flopping ears. They were both soaked. In one hand, Yagi had a rope that ended on the collar of the dog. In the other, the to-go bag and his broken umbrella.
“Hey, Shouta,” Yagi greeted, dropping the umbrella and makeshift leash. The dog shook itself off, sending sprays of water flying around the room. It then trotted, tail raised, around the entryway, sniffing at everything. Yagi toed his shoes and socks off.
Towels. That was a simple task Aizawa’s brain could focus on. He retreated quickly to the small bathroom and grabbed every towel Yagi had. He dropped one on the floor where the dog had dripped water and threw another over Yagi’s head. He rubbed at Yagi’s hair in attempts to dry it, mussing already-untamed locks.
“A dog.” Aizawa winced. He was usually much sharper than that—pointing out the obvious was needless. But he was at a loss for words. “You brought a dog home.”
“Yeah,” Yagi chuckled, a nervous blush on his high cheekbones. He reached up to take over drying his own hair. Aizawa took the to-go bag from him and walked it to the tiny kitchenette area. “It was storming, and I couldn’t just leave her out there.”
Aizawa eyed their guest. He should be drying her off, since she was still dripping water everywhere. But he just… didn’t want any part of that. This situation was entirely out of his comfort zone and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.
An anxious prickle started on the back of his neck. He should have stayed in his own room.
“Did you inform the principal?” Aizawa didn’t know how Nezu would react to the news of one of his staff members taking in a dog, however temporary. The principal did look like a small prey animal, after all.
Yagi’s shoulders stiffened. “Uh, I hadn’t quite gotten that far.” He smiled apologetically. “It’s just for the night. Tomorrow morning, I’ll look for her owner.” He grabbed a set of dry clothes and self-consciously hid in the bathroom to change. Aizawa wasn’t sure why he still did that. He’d seen and very much enjoyed Yagi in any and every state of undress.
Still. Aizawa closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging the space between his eyes. He could feel a headache coming on.
“You’re upset,” Yagi commented, exiting the bathroom. He was wearing an overly large T-shirt and a pair of lavender sweatpants that Aizawa secretly liked because of how they hung off Yagi’s body. “She’s lost. I couldn’t just ignore her.” Almost to emphasize his point, he grabbed a dry towel and called her to him. She galloped over and collided with his legs. He kneeled to towel her off and her tongue lolled out in a goofy dog grin. Her head tilted back until she was staring at Aizawa.
“I’m not upset,” Aizawa responded. “Really, I’m not.” He just got irritable when his quiet evening plans got interrupted unexpectedly. Yamada said because he was an introvert. Aizawa had told him to shove it. “Does she have any tags?”
Yagi nodded. “It has the name and number of a veterinary office, but I imagine they’re closed now.” It was late, so it was most likely that an answering machine would pick up any calls. “I’ll look up their hours and bring her in when they open. They should have the owners on record.”
Aizawa sighed. “All Might. Not just a hero to humans, anymore.”
When Yagi smiled, it seemed to stretch across his face. His earnestness still threw Aizawa off sometimes and made him pleasantly warm. That heat currently settled somewhere behind his sternum.
Aizawa busied himself by mopping up the sprays of water from when the dog shook herself off. “You’re a really good person, you know that, right?”
“I try.”
Aizawa held back a scoff. Yagi Toshinori didn’t do things halfway—there was no “try”, only do or don’t, and in this case, he did in spades. He was a good man. The best man, in Aizawa’s own opinion. Not that Yagi ever believed him when they had their little heart to heart talks.
Yagi finished drying the dog off and set about gathering the soiled towels. He set them in the hamper as Aizawa began rummaging through the to-go bag.
“Yours is the spicy beef,” Yagi pointed out. He pulled two plates and a bowl from the cabinet. The bowl he filled with water and put on the bathroom tile. The dog followed and noisily lapped at the water.
Aizawa could hear Yagi chuckle. He let the corner of his mouth lift. At least Yagi as happy. He opened the first to-go box and grimaced. Chicken, but without much spice or salt. Yagi’s. Aizawa may have lov—really liked Yagi, but he didn’t envy his dietary restrictions. He found his beef noodles and forwent a plate. He hadn’t eaten that day. There weren’t going to be any leftovers. He broke apart the disposable wooden chopsticks and sat at the table. Yagi joined him, a small portion of his order on his plate.
Their four-legged guest sat at their feet, staring up at them expectantly. She whined and put her chin on Aizawa’s knee.
“This isn’t for you,” he murmured. He really didn’t know much about dogs, but he was pretty sure the amount of spice in his food wasn’t healthy for humans, let alone canines.
Yagi frowned. “We don’t have any dog food for her, huh?” He reached down to pet her head. Sensing an opening, she scooted over to focus her attention on him.
“Did you get a side of steamed rice?” Aizawa asked. Yagi sometimes ordered an extra, just in case his stomach rejected whatever he planned to eat. “She might be able to have some of your grilled vegetables as well.”
Yagi retrieved Aizawa’s unused plate and shoveled some steamed rice onto it, and then a few pieces of broccoli and chicken. For once, he was glad his food was rather plain. The dog’s tail shook so hard that her entire rear moved as he put the plate on the floor. She quickly ate, following as her enthusiasm pushed the plate across the hard floor. Yagi sat back down and watched her. They ate in relative quiet.
As he was finishing, Aizawa asked, “will you be okay with her overnight?” He didn’t make a habit of staying over. If it happened only occasionally on the weekends, he could have deniability if caught. He could claim that they were hanging out and that he had drank too much. Most of his coworkers and students would believe that. He just wasn’t sure about leaving Yagi alone with the dog.
“I should be okay,” Yagi replied. “She shouldn’t be too much of a hassle.” Said dog was currently laying under the table, seemingly passed out.
Aizawa frowned and Yagi could see the thoughts racing behind his dark eyes. “Come get me if you need help.”
Yagi smiled tiredly. “You worry too much.”
The deadpan look on Aizawa’s face said that he wasn’t amused. He stood and cleared their plates. “I’ll come by in the morning.”
“I’ve got that,” Yagi murmured. He stood and followed Aizawa to the kitchenette sink. He wrapped his arms around Aizawa and pulled his lover’s side against his chest. Aizawa sighed and leaned into him. Yagi kissed the bridge of his nose. “Thanks for putting up with me.”
Aizawa felt all over. Shit. He really, really liked Yagi. He needed to get away. He needed to breathe. He pushed lightly against Yagi’s chest. “I need to finish creating next week’s written exam. I’ll see you tomorrow.” When Yagi released him without protest—he never questioned Aizawa’s seemingly sudden need to pull away and somehow being understood like that was terrifying—Aizawa stood on his toes to kiss Yagi’s thin lips.
Yagi smiled into the kiss, his hands cupping Aizawa’s face as if he were cherished.
They parted and Aizawa found it hard to look into those brilliant blue eyes because he knew precisely what he’d see in them. “Goodnight, Toshinori.”
“Goodnight, Shouta,” Yagi returned, kissing the hair over Aizawa’s temple.
When the younger man left, Yagi finished clearing dinner and rinsing the dishes in the sink. His guest raised her head to watch him for a few moments before plopping back on the floor. When he finished, he went to lie down.
Soon, very soon, he was going to tell Aizawa that he loved him. Three terrifying words humbled and frightened him.
Yagi heard the click of nails and the jingling of metal. He looked over. The dog stared at him. “Come on.” He patted the sliver of open bed next to his legs. The bed wasn’t large, but he could make due. “You may as well.” She jumped into bed and curled up in the bend of his knees.
Smiling to himself, Yagi grabbed his phone and looked up the veterinary clinic listed on her tags. They were close by and opened at 7AM. He could probably sneak her out earlier, before most of the students were awake.
“I’ll get you home, girl.”
Iida wanted to say something. When he saw All Might—it was still weird to think of the tall, skeletal man as All Might sometimes—walking a dog in the early hours before the sun rose, he wanted to inquire. Pets on campus were against the rules. But this was All Might. So, he continued his jog in silence, having decided to ignore the infraction.
“Kira! I missed you so much!” The little girl threw her arms around the dog’s neck. The dog, Kira, danced happily as her owner hugged her.
“Thank you so much for taking her in,” the father said. “Haruko was worried sick.”
“It’s nothing,” Yagi answered. “She was a pleasant guest.”
“Thank you, mister!” Haruko grabbed his large hand in both her little ones. “You’re my hero! Kira’s too!”
The father chuckled. “Even without your quirk, you’re still helping people.”
Yagi blushed, still not used to being recognized in this form. “It’s what heroes do.” And he’d keep doing whatever he could.
The Kira and her family left, Yagi waved goodbye. He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to walk back to campus. He had a lot of laundry to do, and afternoon classes to get ready for.
Yagi may not be able to defeat villains or pull victims from rubble, but at least he could make a little girl’s day. He couldn’t save the world, but he could still do little acts of good. That was worth smiling about.