Work Text:
Yamada Hizashi falls in love with Aizawa Shouta in the middle of a screaming crowd, face down in cracked concrete and sputtering on the blood seeping from his broken nose. The gravel created when his quirk broke the concrete of the ring the first and only time he managed to use it bites into his cheek. What just happened? He barely hears the teacher call the round. The only thing that stands out to his poor fuzzy head is the commentator exclaiming “Yamada Hizashi is eliminated- which means Aizawa Shouta from Gen Ed advances to the semi-finals!”
Which is how he learns the other boy’s name, having been paying more attention to the crowd than the commentator when they were introduced at the start of the (very very short) round.
A hand on his shoulder frees him from his shock.
“You good?” asks a quiet voice. The bindings loosen and Hizashi wiggles free, hand to his bleeding nose as he rolls over, coughing. He stares up at the bluest sky he’s ever seen. A frowning face enters his field of view and a hand follows it, snapping in front of his nose a few times. “Hey, are you alright?” Hizashi nearly swallows his tongue. Oh, cute boy, he thinks.
The sun trickles through waves of chin length black hair, highlighting tired narrow eyes- dark, glinting, and sharp. His stomach swoops and twirls. Butterflies flirting about a painfully blue sky. His chest aches in a way that has nothing to do with getting wrapped up and slammed into concrete.
Hizashi inhales too quick and chokes on blood for his trouble. He gags and lurches up, wild heartbeat throwing it's hat in the ring of bodily functions currently rebelling against him. The other boy moves to accommodate him, not touching him but still hovering.
“I’m, uh." Woah, ok Hizashi, you can do this. You're good at words. They're, like, your whole thing! "Um. I’m okay. Just- uh- just busted my nose a bit.” The words come out a bit thick but they must be understandable enough because Aizawa relaxes, if only slightly. "Good."
Aizawa steps back and starts to slowly wind the weird scarf he used to toss Hizashi around. Hizashi studiously ignores the growing voice in his head wailing at the loss.
“Still. I dropped you a little harder than I meant to.” Aizawa glances over at him, hesitates, and holds his hand out to Hizashi. The painfully blue sky frames him, the light of the sun directly behind him haloing him. Or maybe that's just Hizashi's head.
Hizashi prays to every god he can think of that his palms aren't horribly sweaty and he's not blushing as hard as he thinks he is and takes it, letting the other boy pull him to his feet. Ohhhh his hands are calloused. That's not fair.
“It’s totally fine!” he says, definitely not squeaking. Aizawa raises an eyebrow as Hizashi wobbles on his feet.
“...I should make sure you get to the nurse's office okay anyway.”
“Ok,” Hizashi croaks. And then he does what he does best. He starts talking.
Rambling. Babbling. Same difference. He can't even remember half of what he talks about as his hands flail thorough the air, sneaking glances at painfully cute boy next to him. There's a good chunk of his brain function currently dedicated to shrieking Cute boy! Cute boy! Cute boy!
Aizawa walks along near silently, hands in his pockets and the scarf loosely draped around his neck. He hums occasionally, eyes catching Hizashi's far too often for his poor heart to take.
They reach the nurse's temporary office simultaneously too fast and not fast enough.
Aizawa makes to leave him with a mumbled “I need to get ready for my next match,” after Recovery Girl is finished scolding him for being too harsh on Hizashi. Apparently Hizashi has a minor concussion. He’s pretty sure its got nothing to do with the way his brain is goes to goo every time he sees Aizawa.
"Okay bye! Talk to you later!" Hizashi says too loudly, waving his arm in a way that immediately makes him want to die the second his brain catches up.
But he the tiniest, most minuscule, smile he catches pulling at Aizawa's lips as tucks his chin into his scarf makes it more than worth it. Aizawa lifts a hand in a simple wave as he ducks out of the room. Hizashi giggles stupidly and then slaps his hands over his own face.
Not thirty seconds later Shirakumo throws the door open.
"Holy shit Yamada!" he shrieks. Recovery Girl frowns at him and Shirakumo ducks his head, scraching at the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry Recovery Girl!"
He darts away from her exasperated smile and plops himself on Hizashi's cot. "Dude, you totally got your ass kicked!" Hizashi keeps staring off into space, mind still fixed on that tiny smile. That little wave. What do they mean? Does Aizawa like him? Does he think he's funny? Cute? He's going to go nuts!
“Heeey Hizashi! Earth to Hizashi! How you feeling?” Shirakumo asks as he waves his hand in front of Hizashi's face. Hizashi blinks, owlish, at his friend. “Shirakumo…” he says seriously. Shirakumo tilts his head, smile confused and a little concerned. “I think I’m in love.”
Shirakumo bursts out laughing. Hizashi squawks with indignation.
And since he's Shirakumo he's still laughing when Aizawa launches him out of the ring and all the way into the stands two rounds later. Hizashi cheers loud enough for his classmates to throw their hands over their ears and duck away from him, glaring. But the sky is bright and blue and Aizawa is looking at him, shocked and red faced as he turns away and ducks his chin into his scarf. But he still raises his hand in that barely-a-wave wave.
And then he does it again two weeks later when Hizashi half jumps out of his seat when their homeroom teacher introduces Aizawa as the newest member of class 1-A.