Title: Naptime, Kitten
Author: Timothy Wren
Fandom: BNHA
Relationship: Aizawa Shota/Yamada Hizashi, Aizawa & His Kids
Word Count: 704
Genre: Time travel! Gen! Found family, adoption, time travel fix-it
Summary: Aizawa gets sent back seventeen years and roasts the timeline over an open fire.
Author’s Note: Just transferring this over from ao3, don’t mind me. Look, I know who I am as a person, but I assure you this is super gen. This fic came into being after I saw Aizawa’s English voice actor say a requested line.
Someone asked him to say “goodnight, kitten” and I thought of Eri immediately, but we all know damnwell it was a horny thing and y’all need to leave that man alone 😂
Bonk, go to horny jail.
The day after finishing his to-do list– or as much as he could finish, for the foreseeable future– Aizawa Shouta leaned against the living room door and looked over his apartment, feeling triumphantly pleased with himself.
He was, at once, thirty-six and nineteen years old. He’d been very busy since waking up in the past.
For one, he’d contacted Nezdu and laid most of his cards on the table. The pre-emptive hiring had come with a pre-emptive raise, likely for the sheer chaos he’d dropped in the bear-rat’s lap.
He’d more or less burned down Aldera Middle School, shoved no less than twelve kids into various counseling services, kissed Hizashi full on the mouth with none of the mutual pussyfutting they’d engaged in the first time around, and adopted his cats a few months early.
On his calendar, a general stretch of time five years from now was marked in red. Sometime during that period, he’d have his daughter in his arms again, and then nothing would stop him from falling like the wrath of god upon the Shie Hassaikai.
Their days were literally, incredibly numbered and they didn’t even know it yet.
All for One had been defeated, Yagi no longer faced the removal of half his internal organs, and was in therapy himself to handle his own breathtaking hubris and carelessness, an abruptly necessary self-reflection in the face of his newly adopted ward, Shimura Tenko.
Todoroki Rei was never entered into a medical facility because she never injured her child; she was in therapy, too. Shouta had perhaps vented some frustration on Endeavor. It wasn’t the other man’s fault that Shouta couldn’t bring down the yakuza until Eri was in the picture, but it was his fault that he’d participated in an illegal quirk marriage and raised his children like weapons.
Things would go better this time around. Todoroki Touya, he’d dropped into his mother’s arms like a startled kitten.
Hizashi was asleep in the master bedroom, tired from his late-night radio internship, but the apartment wasn’t empty. Shouta reflected on all that he’d accomplished in such a short time and finally allowed himself to breathe.
He looked out into the living room and felt his whole body relax. Though his daughter hadn’t been born yet, a small child with soft purple hair was sitting on his couch, sleepily petting Meatloaf the cat.
Every few seconds he would doze off, head drooping and tiny hand stopping, before he’d jerk back up and resume carefully, carefully stroking his fingers along her fur.
Shouta’s heart hurt with how careful his son was and part of him mourned the future that would never be, a flinty-eyed and distrustful teenager acting every bit the wary alley cat as he’d first come into their lives and home. It was better this way, though.
Seeing Shinsou Hitoshi, an unbearably cute age four, sitting on his raggedy couch could only be a blessing. He’d never go through the system, jaded and bitter. Meatloaf was laid out next to him, shamelessly receiving pets.
On the back of the couch, the grey Gargoyle watched them like her namesake, a stalwart protector. Bathtub wound pitifully against Shouta’s ankles, hoping to get some treats or perhaps an early dinner.
“Looks like it’s naptime, kitten.” Shouta said, softly.
Hitoshi looked over at him and smiled brightly. What memories he did have of his time in foster care would hopefully fade with time. Four months was a lot different than twelve years.
“‘Kay.” Hitoshi said, easily raising his arms to be picked up.
Shouta gathered the baby up to his chest and kissed his hair. Hitoshi snuggled into it without hesitation. A few days hadn’t been enough to entirely heal all wounds, but his son had sobbed with relief to come home with them and get to have parents again.
All things said and done, Shouta had precisely zero regrets from destroying the old timeline. The last few days had been hectic and borderline insane. He was glad to carry Hitoshi to their big bed and lay him down next to Hizashi’s quietly snoring form.
Shouta climbed in next to them, mindful of the cats that hopped up with him, and fell into easy sleep.