Era

44

Hizashi liked to consider himself a patient person. His life was a flurry of activity, yes, a constant ebb and flow of here and now, flitting from one place to the next as if he feared it might pass him by.

But he was patient. Could be, anyway. Though he found himself frustrated by stillness, by inaction, Hizashi prided himself on his ability to stop, look, and listen. People always looked to Shouta as the voice of reason, ever the pragmatist; but it was Hizashi who pulled the insomniac back from the brink whenever his work overtook him, and he pushed too hard towards a solution just out of his grasp.

Thing was, the whole Suzuki Era business was really trying his nerves, and it was becoming more and more difficult to disguise it. Shouta could tell—obviously, Shouta could always tell—but Hizashi had always been adept at hiding his true feelings, at putting on a good show so everyone would be laughing too damned much to notice anything out of place. Originally it was what his therapist might call a "coping mechanism", but into his hero career he'd found the skill was more helpful than not, and he'd managed to get it to the point where it didn't bite him in the ass too much. Shouta was always there. Even if Hizashi swept everything up beneath stupid outfits and a ridiculous, swaggering persona, Shouta could always tell. So things didn't get bottled up as much as they used to, and Hizashi was doing his due diligence in "clear and honest communication" and "emotional acceptance" and "practicing mindfulness".

Maybe he needed to see his therapist again, but that was besides the point. Something was wrong, and it was wearing his patience dangerously thin.

He needed to be doing something, anything to help. It was that burning instinct inside of him, that itch that had led him towards becoming a hero in the first place: do whatever good you can. Here, Hizashi was deeply afraid of causing more harm than good, and it was beginning to leave him restless and unsure.

Small steps, that was always key. Forgo the bigger picture for just a moment and focus on the now. Suzuki Era was struggling in class, and while he was going to be patient and wait for her to ask for help it was becoming increasingly apparent that that would never happen. Caught in the flux of all of her many, many issues beginning to rear their ugly heads, this one seemed rather small.

Which was why he would do his best to address it. To take it off the pile, remove the burden even if it seemed light in comparison to the rest.

Suzuki hadn't fidgeted uncomfortably when he'd asked her to meet him in the teacher's lounge after class, nor did she twitch or tug at her clothes when she stood at the open door, peering in with a polite greeting.

He knew she fidgeted in class, though. Probably thought he couldn't see it, but Hizashi had a keen eye for that sort of thing and he'd caught the way her hands bunched up the fabric of her pant legs, or her fingers drummed lightly against the side of her chair. Most notable—and a cause for most concern, he thought—on days where she was more obviously exhausted he'd seen her hands clench into tight fists, nails leaving crescent marks against her palms in what he assumed was an attempt to stay awake.

Given what he knew, he really didn't like her doing that. Didn't like the idea of marks he couldn't see, faded pale and jagged across the skin before they could be questioned.

But Hizashi was not only patient but also a good liar, so when she peeked her head into the near-empty lounge and softly knocked on the doorframe he smiled wide.

"Hey there listener! Come on in, I got us set up on this table over here if that's alright!"

"That's fine, sensei," she said, far too out of character with how Shouta always described her. As she walked over Hizashi caught her eyes flicking over to the other teachers scattered around the room. Snipe was still at his desk writing up some paperwork, Ectoplasm sitting by a window with a few ungraded tests in his lap, and Midnight appeared to be reading something in the corner. No one was paying much attention to them, although Snipe did glance up from his monitor when Suzuki sat down.