Just A Myth | Shota Aizawa

Chapter 31

Third person pov

Aizawa ended up carrying Atlantis once they docked. It hadn't taken long to get back to land, the tides dragging Gang Orca's vessel into its previous position as though it had never left to begin with. Of the three involved with the ritual, Hitoshi was the only one who'd retained consciousness. He'd stayed laid out on the deck's floor uncaring of any water that splashed its way onto his face and already-soaked clothing, staring up at the sky. Though clearly tired, anyone could see just how contented he was to be there. No one dared to interrupt him.

Toshinori was very carefully moved onto one of the benches, covered in blankets and head propped up with a sandbag of all things. The man breathed in deep and peaceful, his face laxer than Recovery Girl had seen it in a very long time. The woman was truly speechless as she checked over him, stethoscope coming up to listen to his lungs. Her heart had clenched when she'd first realized he had both back, full and sounding as strong as ever. The man was still skin and bones, but he was skin and bones with healthy organs. And that was two thirds of the battle, really.

"He should wake up within the next few hours, but it'll probably be a day or two before he stops feeling tired." Hitoshi noted mildly as the blonde man was awkwardly loaded into the vehicle they'd brought here. Atlantis remained dead asleep, curled up in Aizawa's arms like a cat. As exhausted as he was, Shota could tell he wasn't hurt in any way. It was relieving enough for him to maintain his straight face, even at the looks Nezu and Recovery Girl were giving him. They had just watched something insanely supernatural occur, after all. Even he was blown away by it. Just when he thought things couldn't get any crazier, Atlantis would pull out a whole new deck of cards.

Nezu didn't ask anymore questions. A surprise, yes, but one Shota didn't dare to inquire about. Hitoshi lightly dozed the entire way back, shifting vaguely in and out of sleep. Recovery Girl continued to shoot him glances. It was hard to believe a tired, disheveled teenager wrapped in a bright orange beach towel could be a mythical creature out of a children's fairytale. Ancient and powerful, and hardly of this world. It's almost comical. If you'd told Shota a year ago this is where he'd be today, he'd... well, he might actually believe you, with how much he adored merfolk. He hadn't been embarrassed by his fascination then and he most certainly wasn't now.

Aizawa hauled Atlantis up to his apartment, Hitoshi following after him and stumbling like a drunk the whole way. Atlantis doesn't stir even slightly. The only indication he gives of life is the soft snores that escape him as he lies limply in his husband's arms. Shota lays him on their bed with a gentle kiss to the forehead before escaping to go try and force some food down Hitoshi's throat. The boy looked absolutely exhausted, and he isn't about to let his husband's cousin pass out on the floor without some sort of nutrients.

Hitoshi is going to be living with them. Custody would be Aizawa's in no time flat, so they were going to have to find a place for the kid. Aizawa's apartment was hardly big enough for three, even with his spare bedroom. It's basically a shoebox it's so small. They're going to have to move. This place is cheap and though it's close to work, it's rickety at best. Being an underground hero and a teacher pays pretty well, however. Aizawa won't say he's amassed tons of wealth, but... wait. Wait, wait, wait. That box of gold Atlantis had found and then hidden at Shota's request. Get that appraised and they could get a house with a pool a mile long. And a few cats to boot. It's more than ideal when he thinks about it. He feels fond.

Aizawa enters the kitchen expecting Hitoshi to still be slumped down in a barstool with his upper half draped over the countertop. And yeah, he is, but he isn't alone. Aizawa is so uncharacteristically startled that he almost lets out a yelp, just barely managing to catch himself as Hizashi and Nemuri slowly turn to him. They're both standing there huddled up next to each other, eyes wide like they hadn't expected to be caught. Mic's phone is out, pointed directly at Hitoshi. Aizawa resists the urge to bash his head through the nearest wall.