#u have all been so patient! so lemme fling this at u and leave

[uhzuku]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒. | 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔-𝐍𝐘𝐀.

𝐂𝐖 ‼️ | hybrids, hybrid au, no quirks, cat hybrid aizawa, hurt slight comfort, shou-nya lore drop ( aka u finally learn abt nem n zashi ).

“It wasn’t just me.”

Shouta’s voice breaks the long silence that had been perpetuated by nothing but the soft sounds of the accented narrator speaking about penguins and other arctic life from the television. You jump, startled by him speaking all of a sudden when you’d thought him asleep; you’d been cozy on the armchair in the corner of the living room, tapping away at your laptop and scribbling rapid notes into a notebook as you worked from home, and Shouta had been dozing on the couch the last time you’d glanced up. 

“Oh?” Is your only response, low and dumb-sounding in your surprise; Shouta wasn’t one for sharing information about his past, so this was mostly new for you. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs quietly, playing with the hem of the blanket he’d wrapped himself up in. He's quiet for a long time, seemingly pondering what to say next, and then, “There were three of us — four, before the accident, but three now.” He suddenly looks uncomfortably wistful — and pained. So pained. “Then. Three then. Now it’s just me.”

Your heart aches for him, despite what little you know. you weren’t an idiot, just from the mere sight of him and his missing eye and limb ( and God, all the scars; some of them  must have been agonizing ) you knew his life hadn’t been easy — and yes, you’d known he’d not gone into the shelter alone thanks to the manager ( though you’d only been informed of him being brought in as a part of a trio, not one amongst four ), but despite that he was a complete question mark, a mystery you’d yet to solve. “You aren’t…” you hesitate as he looks up at you through a curtain of hair reminiscent of the first time the two of you had locked eyes in the shelter, then force yourself to continue. “You aren’t alone anymore. You have me, if you want me.”

Another silence falls over the two of you. You don’t take his lack of a response as any sort of slight, considering he isn’t a chatterbox by any means ( and likely hadn’t ever been, if you were as good of a judge of character as you thought you were ), but still don’t return to your laptop. You instead gaze at him through the silence, eyes soft and considering, as he repetitively glances up to lock eyes with you before looking away. 

“I had a friend. Her name was Nemuri,” he offers quietly, and you try to control your facial expressions; him sharing names, something he clutched tightly against his chest, was a big step. “I met her first.” He goes quiet and blinks towards the window; you pretend like you don’t see how his eyes are growing misty. “Her fur was blue-black, like the sky in the middle of the night, and she was a short-haired hybrid. Her eyes were blue…” he trails off, his thick tail lashing anxiously as he slowly starts to breath hard in what looks like the beginnings of a small panic attack. “Hizashi was the other. He was blond and long-haired, more than me. He had green eyes, like spring grass…”

Shouta’s visibly trembling now, and you feel almost sick. Quietly you say, “Are you — no. What is it, Shouta? What’s wrong?” It’s the correct thing to ask, you discover a tiny bit later. He’s quiet for a long time — a really long time. His eyes are wide and panicked and wet, and he looks on the brink of tears as he gazes out the window into the trees on the edge of the backyard of your property. 

“I can’t,” he whispers quietly, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion as a soft sniff escapes him. “I can’t remember their faces very well anymore — just their eyes, and their fur.” Your heart plummets to your stomach, sharp and cold like a stone coated in ice, as he continues, voice shaking ever so slightly. “Their voices are gone too. It’s been so long…”

Slowly you stand, allowing him to show any signs of being against you going to sit with him. He does nothing but watch out the window, and you sit next to him on the couch gently and pretend you don’t feel when he sags i to you. 

“You speak about them in the past tense,” you say slowly, not wanting to push too far but still so curious,  “Are they…?”

“Might as well be,” he says bitterly, still staring blindly out the window, and the ache in your heart strengthens. “They were taken years ago and I’ve never seen them since.”

“That doesn’t mean that they died, Shouta,” you say as gently as you can manage, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard, clearly holding back all of the big emotions he was feeling. 

“No, but it’s easier.”

“It’s easier to assume they’re dead?” you question softly. 

He nods. “Yeah. Makes it easier. Dead means they’re not out there somewhere, possibly being hurt again. Dead means they’re with—“ He stops himself, almost choking on nothing, and looks away. You want to ask who they could be with, but know you’ve already pushed your luck on sensitive subjects today, and wisely choose to refrain. 

“Do you remember what they were like?” you ask, already knowing the answer, and you warm up inside when he huffs out a tiny laugh and smiles fondly at his hands, visibly losing some of the tension in his shoulders as he melts against you further. Instinctively you begin rubbing gently between his ears, and he snatches up on of your hands to hold in his own, picking at the edges of your fingernails and silently comparing them to his own claws.  

“Yes. They were loud and loved smiling, and they were… they were like the Sun,” he finally says honestly, his voice gooey and soft with a love and reverence you so desperately hoped his former companions had when speaking of him to their owners. “My entire life endlessly revolved around them, they were the only thing that ever mattered to me…” He fixes his one-eyed gaze on you, soft and contemplative. “I suppose you’re my Sun now.”

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.