bnha oneshots!!

48 - unspoken strength 🖤(💗)

ship: shōta aizawa + hizashi yamada.

The sound of keys jangling echoed through the quiet apartment as Shōta Aizawa, known to the world as Eraserhead, unlocked the door and stepped inside. The weight of the day's exhaustion hung heavy on his shoulders, but he pushed it aside, his thoughts already drifting to his husband, Hizashi Yamada, also known as Present Mic. He was looking forward to unwinding with him, finding solace in their shared presence.

But as soon as he closed the door behind him, Aizawa felt a shift in the air, a tension that prickled at his senses. The usual energetic hum of the apartment was absent, replaced by an oppressive silence. Concern knitted his brows as he walked further into their home.

"Hizashi?" he called out, his voice steady but tinged with worry.

There was no response. Aizawa's concern deepened, and he moved quickly, his instincts guiding him to the living room. What he saw there made his heart clench painfully.

Hizashi was sitting on the floor, his back against the couch, knees drawn to his chest. His hands clutched his hair, pulling at it in a way that seemed almost desperate. His usually vibrant green eyes were wide and unfocused, filled with a terror that Aizawa rarely saw. Hizashi's entire body trembled with the force of his silent sobs.

Aizawa's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight. Hizashi was the epitome of energy and confidence, always the loudest voice in any room, always the one to lift others' spirits. Seeing him like this, so broken and vulnerable, was a stark reminder of the burdens they both carried.

"Hizashi," Aizawa said softly, kneeling down in front of him. He reached out, gently prying Hizashi's hands away from his hair. "Baby, It's me, Shōta. I'm here."

Hizashi's eyes flickered, focusing on Aizawa for a moment before fresh tears spilled over. "Shōta," he choked out, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I... I can't..."

Aizawa's heart ached at the sound of his husband's anguish. He didn't need to ask what was wrong; he knew that sometimes the weight of their responsibilities, the constant threat of danger, and the toll of their work could become too much. He had his own ways of coping, but Hizashi's bright exterior hid a fragile heart that could shatter under the pressure.

Without another word, Aizawa gathered Hizashi into his arms, holding him tightly. Hizashi clung to him, his sobs growing louder, more desperate. Aizawa pressed his lips to Hizashi's temple, murmuring soothing words, even as his own emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

"I'm here, 'Zashi. I've got you. You're not alone," Aizawa whispered, his voice steady, a lifeline in the storm of Hizashi's despair.

Hizashi's sobs eventually subsided, replaced by shuddering breaths. He leaned heavily against Aizawa, as if drawing strength from his presence. Aizawa held him close, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Hizashi's back.

"I just... I felt so alone," Hizashi said, his voice hoarse from crying. "Everything felt so dark, and I couldn't see a way out."

Aizawa tightened his hold on him, his own eyes stinging with unshed tears. "You're never alone, Hizashi. No matter how dark it gets, I'm always here with you."

Hizashi nodded against his chest, taking in the comfort of Aizawa's words. Slowly, he began to calm down, his breathing evening out. They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other's arms, finding solace in their shared presence.

After what felt like an eternity, Hizashi pulled back slightly, looking up at Aizawa with red-rimmed eyes. "I'm sorry, Shōta. I didn't mean to fall apart like this."

Aizawa cupped Hizashi's face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the remaining tears. "You don't need to apologize, Hizashi. You're allowed to feel this way. We're allowed to lean on each other."

Hizashi nodded, his expression softening as he looked into Aizawa's eyes. "Thank you, Shōta. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Aizawa leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Hizashi's lips. "You don't have to find out. We're in this together, remember?"

Hizashi returned the kiss, a small smile breaking through the lingering sadness. "Together," he echoed.

They sat there for a while longer, their foreheads pressed together, sharing the silence and the comfort of each other's presence. The world outside could wait; for now, they had each other, and that was enough.

As the night wore on, they eventually moved to the couch, wrapped in a warm blanket. Aizawa brewed some tea, the familiar ritual grounding them both. They sipped their tea in companionable silence, the earlier tension slowly melting away.

Hizashi looked at Aizawa, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. "You always know how to make things better, Shōta."

Aizawa shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Just doing what I can. You're my husband, Hizashi. I'll always be here for you."

Hizashi reached out, taking Aizawa's hand in his. "And I'll always be here for you."

Aizawa squeezed his hand, the warmth of Hizashi's touch a reminder of the strength they drew from each other. No matter how dark the days got, they would face them together, finding light in the love they shared.

Because sometimes, the strongest heroes were those who stood together, holding each other up when the world threatened to bring them down. And in each other's arms, Shōta and Hizashi found the strength to keep going, one day at a time.