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Hitoshi had first gained his provisional licence a few months prior and after weeks of begging Shouta, they had finally agreed to take him out. Hizashi had laid the ground rules that he was never to go out unless he was accompanied by both himself and Shouta, that if they believed it to be too dangerous of a night to go out then there was no arguing about it, and finally that if any member of the League showed up he was to run and not turn back.

The rules had been pretty easy to agree to and so Hitoshi had become used to the ebb and flow of underground hero patrols. They'd stopped a few robbers, caught a guy who'd tried to hold up a grocery store, and followed leads for the police.

"Heroes!" A little girl cried out in delight as she wandered over to Hitoshi excitedly.

"Jiji, don't run off like that." The mother scorned as she caught up with her daughter, taking her by the hand. "I'm so sorry."

"No, it's okay." Hitoshi smiled, crouching down beside her.

"Your name's Jiji, right?"

The little girl nodded.

"That's a lovely name."

Shouta rolled his eyes with a smirk as he looked over to see his husband signing an autograph outside the convenience store he'd stopped at to grab snacks. He truly was thrilled to be unrecognisable.

Interrupted by an abrupt 'crack', Hitoshi and Shouta turned to see the concrete crumbling seconds before the building began to lean.

"Oh god..." Hitoshi gasped. "Move! Move!" He ordered, corralling the mother and daughter to run as he looked around to check if anyone else was in the line of the falling structure.


Hitoshi broke into a sprint as he closed the distance between them.

Shouta's eyes locked onto his.


Shouta tried to grab him but Hitoshi beat him to it as he threw out his capture weapon, wrapping it around the arm of his foster parent and throwing him away from the building.

Seconds later, it all came down.

"HITOSHI!" Shouta bellowed, his scream raw as the cloud of dust swept away all visibility.

"NO!" Hizashi's broken tone followed as he sprinted over.

Shouta's ears rang as he felt sick.

Not again. Not with Toshi. Please.

The second the dust cleared even the slightest amount the two pros raced to the piles of scattered rubble and began digging, throwing aside chunks of the building.

"Toshi! Toshi!" Shouta shouted desperately.

Hizashi was beside him, the blonde looking as bad as he knew he also looked in that moment.

As they heaved away a support beam a stream of white fabric fluttered up in the wind like a kite.


Quickly shoving away the rubble revealed a heavily unconscious and bloody Hitoshi.

Sirens could be heard approaching before an ambulance burst into view.

"Toshi! Toshi!" Shouta's wrecked fingers fumbled for a pulse as his husband carefully manoeuvred the boy from the wreckage, holding him in his arms as they rushed towards the paramedics.

(three days later)

Toshi cracked his eyes open with a groan to see Hizashi sat beside the bed looking drained and older than his years and Shouta pacing nervously around the room.

The smell of antiseptic hit his nose, wincing as he jarred clearly bruised ribs.

"Careful, just, lie back." Hizashi guided him to the pillows with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"What happened?"

"You don't remember?" The blonde asked in concern.

"The building collapsed?"

Hizashi nodded.

"Did I save the girl?"

The pro hero smiled sweetly at his selfless foster son.

"Yes you did, Toshi."

"You never do that again, do you understand me?" Came the sharp tone of Shouta as his gaze finally rose.

Hitoshi furrowed an eyebrow, retreating away.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"You threw me out of the way of that building. That is not your job. I'm supposed to have the buildings fall on me not you. Never you. Do you understand?!"

"Shou..." Hizashi's tone interrupted, soft and warning.

Shouta took a breath, hands shaking.

"It was the same as Oboro, Zashi... They both..."

The blonde looked positively ill at the words as he stood up from the seat beside the bed and collected his husband in his arms as he broke down, harsh wracking sobs overcoming him.

"I can't get it out of my head, Zashi... I feel like I'm back there watching him die all over again." Shouta's glassy eyes rose to meet his husband's. "I couldn't save him and now I nearly couldn't save Toshi."

"Hitoshi is alive. Oboro..." He paused taking a breath. "Oboro may not have been so lucky but it didn't happen again. We found Toshi and we saved him, Shou."

Hizashi looked towards the bed where their foster son looked tired, pained, and guilty.

"You saved my Shouta, and I am grateful for that. But I think what he was trying to say is that if anything like this ever happens again you don't try and save us, you get yourself the hell out of there and you run."

"Why?" A small voice answered.

Shouta took a seat once again beside the bed, guiding Hizashi to do the same. He then reached forward and took Hitoshi's hand, offering it a squeeze.

"Because you're our kid, Toshi. We'd die for you in a heartbeat. If you had..." Shouta paused. "If you had died today then I don't know what we would have done. Parents aren't supposed to outlive their children, and I would take on anything if it meant you would have time to get to safety."

"I wouldn't be much of a hero if I didn't try."

Shouta carefully pulled his foster son in for a hug, holding him tight.

"I'm sorry for shouting, I shouldn't have raised my voice like that to you."

"You were scared."

Shouta shook his head.

"That's not an excuse."

"It's okay, Dad."

The pro's eyes widened before he smiled, tussling Hitoshi's purple hair.

"Get some sleep, kid."

"We'll be here when you wake up." Hizashi added, softly.

"Thanks, Papa."