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February 14th arrived with as little fanfare as Shōta could have hoped for. Little chains of paper hearts decorated the walls of every classroom, and students filed in to discover saccharine messages and indulgently-wrapped candies left on their desks. He’d done his best to continue with business as usual, but classroom activities had routinely been disrupted by giggling and whispered speculation as to who the students’ secret admirers could be. Shōta had had to entertain irrelevant questions as to who had left what on whose desk prior to the beginning of class. He, of course, provided no clues.
Shōta wasn’t a fan of holidays in general, but Valentine’s Day in particular seemed especially pointless to him. It was, at best, a distraction that took valuable time and energy away from more productive pursuits. The next sports festival was in just a couple months, and he was trying to get the students prepared to compete , not to accurately determine if their crush liked them or not.
Regardless of his feelings about it, the rest of the staff hadn’t taken any issue with getting festive for the occasion, with Nemuri passing out candy to her students and gushing about their “youthful energy.” Thirteen had walked into the staff room with a dozen lipstick marks smeared all over their visor. Even All Might sat down to his desk and found a heart-shaped card from an anonymous admirer, leaving everyone mystified as to the identity of the sender. And Shōta, unenthusiastic as he was about the frivolity of it all, would be lying if he said Hizashi’s card for him wasn’t cute. It had a cat on it, for god’s sake—not to mention a message sweet enough to draw a genuine smile from him (he was unsuccessful in hiding it). So, though it was just another meaningless holiday, Shōta supposed there were perks to having a valentine on Valentine’s Day.
That didn’t mean it couldn’t still be annoying and embarrassing, however, as he would soon discover. The trouble began once all students had returned to the dorms, though Shōta wouldn’t suspect anything until much later.
He was busy inputting grades on his laptop, semi-comfortably situated in the common area on the first floor. Eri had already been put to sleep and Hizashi was gone for the rest of the night, leaving Shōta with little else to do besides work in lieu of any available company.
He’d had been at it for a while and was beginning to lose focus, which left him liable to become distracted. This was not quite triggered by the fact that most of the girls and several of the boys had taken it upon themselves to start binge-watching a bunch of rom-coms in the living area. Shōta managed to tune them out, the noise of the movie and their nonsensical chatter fading into the background as he tried to catch up on all the work he’d been procrastinating on. He wasn’t as far enough away as he should have liked, his table only a few meters away from the couches, but it would be too much of a pain to move his workspace into his own apartment. They didn’t seem to be paying him any mind, anyway.
A few hours passed, and Shōta vaguely registered a climactic scene and the credits of the movie rolling. A brief discussion thus ensued concerning what the group should watch next. He heard Uraraka complain about being sleepy and assumed, incorrectly, that this would be their cue to start heading upstairs. Shōta checked the time—it was already 9:00, just a couple hours until lights-out. If the students wanted to be well-rested the next day, now would be a good time to call it a day.
Then, Jirou suggested they listen to the radio. A few protested, but Yaoyorozu piped up, saying that they could use the time for a last minute study session, which drew an even less enthusiastic response. Finally, Sero suggested they play a board game, which persuaded most of them to stay for just a few more minutes, if only out of peer pressure. Shōta didn’t really care what they did, as long as they did it quietly and not past 11:00.
They ended up turning on the station anyway, and, to Shōta’s faint amusement, listened to Put Your Hands Up Radio, coincidentally (or not). Hizashi would be out doing his show until early in the morning, disappointingly, so Shōta was actually somewhat pleased to hear his voice mixed in with the students’ chitchat. It comforted a small, soft part of him while simultaneously reminding him of his loneliness.
The conversation meandered here and there, and Shōta once again stopped paying any attention to what they were saying. He’d refocused on the task at hand and was finishing up the last of the grading, music softly flowing from the center of the activity. The warm lights in the dining area were too dim for his liking; his laptop screen was bright against the backdrop, and the light was a terrible strain on his eyes.
Shōta closed them and leaned back, wishing he could just crawl into bed next to his husband instead of sitting here, alone on Valentine’s Day. It was stupid, he knew—it was a completely meaningless holiday, indeed, and there was no logical reason he should feel any more unhappy with Hizashi’s late nights today than any other day. But that reasoning didn’t stop him from thinking, selfishly, that if today was supposed to celebrate love, Shōta deserved to be with Hizashi, not doing paperwork for hours before falling asleep alone. He supposed that all the useless fuss around today was finally getting to him.
He was readying himself for the final push until his work was done when it happened. The chatter subsided as Jirou shushed everyone quiet; Shōta found himself subconsciously attuning his ears to the source of her deference. There was a moment of confusion before the other students realized the station’s music had stopped, and that Hizashi was making an announcement.
“—wish all my listeners a Happy Valentine’s Day one last time as we approach the later hours. Stay tuned for more songs to lighten up your evening, whether you’re spending it with your spouse, partner, et cetera… or ridin’ solo. Hey, that’s cool, too! If you’re one of many listeners who finds yourself alone this Valentine’s Day, just remember: you don’t need to be in love to have a good time. But if you’re still not satisfied, well hey, if I can still convince my husband to go out with me, I know you can find someone!”
That earned a few giggles from the couch. Shōta suppressed a smile and rolled his eyes, wondering if he’d be the victim of any more allusions on Hizashi’s show tonight. Only occasionally, Hizashi would make reference to him in his segments without ever mentioning his name or details that would betray his identity. While he made a show of being annoyed with it, he was privately entertained, even as fan speculation was provoked with each mention of Present Mic’s mysterious spouse.
One of the boys started to say something, but Shōta could still make out Hizashi’s voice as he began leading into the next song.
“Now, this number doesn’t quite fit with the rest of out playlist here tonight, but it’s very important that you catch this one, listeners. Well, I’ll be more specific—there’s ONE very special listener in particular that this next song goes out to, in honor of our first date. Let’s hope he’s tuned in!”
Oh, god. Shōta turned his face to the living area, incredulous, as the girls cooed at Hizashi’s announcement. He listened to this channel frequently, certainly on the holidays when Hizashi wasn’t around, and he’d never done anything like this. But if this is what he thought this was...
“Happy Valentine’s Day, babe.”
His face burned as the first few measures kicked in. Yes, yes it was. This was the song—the one Hizashi had played for him the night he’d admitted his crush on him over fifteen years ago. All of the lyrics were in English, and yet, Shōta knew them by heart. He didn’t dare hum along, though, or even tap his foot to the beat. He simply listened as his students squee’d over how cute it was that Present Mic would play their song. Then, their conversation shifted into them wondering just who the target of Mic’s sentiment could be, all while Shōta sat merely a few feet away.
“Oh, how adorable!”
“Yeah, kero, whoever it is is probably feeling pretty lucky right now.”
“Do you think it’s anyone we know of? I mean, Mic-sensei’s mentioned him going out on patrols, so…”
“Another pro hero? Interesting.”
Long ago, Shōta had made a personal rule not to share any personal information about himself with his students; it simply made it easier to avoid intrusive questions when they knew he wouldn’t budge on any details. This extended to the fact that he was married to Hizashi, another teacher of theirs, who honored this policy and didn’t spill that tea, either. But unbeknownst to him, his grand romantic gesture was being broadcasted to at least half of Shōta’s class, causing them all to speculate on the identity of his spouse exactly like his hoard of rabid fans. Only, they actually knew the person it was being broadcasted for .
He attempted to return to ignoring the background noise, but it was far too late. Shōta was hopelessly distracted.
His mind roamed back to their high school days, when he’d received his first glitter-drowned card from Hizashi, and all the years that followed, each February bringing the promise of another Valentine’s gift. Shōta thought of how, even as Hizashi referenced him from time to time, he’d never once played this song, let alone dedicated it to him. Why?
Then, Shōta suddenly recalled a conversation they’d had days ago. Shōta had said, offhand-like, that he wished Hizashi didn’t have to be away during so many holidays. Hizashi had seemed apologetic at the time, but had said that it was out of his hands for the time being. Now, he was playing their song for the first time, completely out of the blue. Was… was this Hizashi’s way of apologizing? Shōta had to wonder. He wondered, and was touched. Perhaps, in a way, he wasn’t alone on Valentine’s Day after all.
What a stupid, meaningless holiday… Shōta failed to quell the warm, fuzzy feelings blooming in his chest.
The song faded out, and regular programming resumed, Hizashi announcing the beginning of their late night call-in segment. At last, Shōta was content to slip out of the room, unnoticed, as the students continued to talk over the radio. He closed his laptop and gathered his paperwork, looking forward to passing out in the near future.
However, no sooner had he stood up than Shōta felt several pairs of eyes on him, presumably alerted by the sound of chair legs scraping against the hardwood floor. A couple of students had turned his way, looking at him as if they’d just realized he was there. Shōta took a path around the tables that led him closer to the couch, confused and a little uncomfortable under their scrutiny.
He was a few feet from the back of the couch when Ashido suddenly directed her attention towards him. “Sensei, do you know who Mic-sensei’s husband is?”
Shōta stopped in his tracks. It made sense, really. He was pretty sure the class knew the two of them were good friends, so it was logical that they’d look to him if they wanted to know who Hizashi was married to. But he, for once, struggled to respond.
Ordinarily, you see, the solution would be simple. When confronted with personal questions from his students, Shōta would normally just zip up his sleeping bag and act like he hadn’t heard. But, admittedly, it had been a while since he’d been asked anything so directly, and he’d never been asked about Hizashi’s spouse—especially just after thinking about how lucky he was to be Hizashi’s spouse. And, well… there was something undeniably tempting about the fact that the call-in segment was happening right now, and it would only be a few seconds until the station started counting the numbers.
So, in retrospect, what followed might not have been the most well thought-out decision Shōta had ever made, but he’d be damned if it wasn’t satisfying.
Ashido, along with a few of the others, was staring at him now, no doubt confused by his atypical silence. As soon as she’d opened her mouth to say something, however, Shōta had already unpocketed his phone and clicked on a number he’d saved. He raised it to his ear and let it ring without saying a word.
For anyone else, there would have been next to no chance of calling in on the first try, but Shōta had the advantage no one else did. He’d only ever done it once before, but he knew for a fact that the station had saved his number—and that his call would be prioritized above all others. Perhaps it was unfair to the thousands of fans dying to get on Present Mic’s radio show, but the opportunity was simply too perfect. Call it a rare moment of impulsivity, but Shōta needed the call to go through right now, if only to see their reactions.
“... Sensei?”
Shōta looked from the wall to Yaoyorozu, who was fixing him with a look of plain concern. His eyes flickered back to the center of the room as the call continued to ring, silently asking her to wait just a second longer. If this didn’t work, it was going to be awkward, but if it did…
Jirou was the first to realize. No one had yet caught on to what he was doing until she clapped a hand over her mouth and gasped.
“You…”
Next to her, Yaoyorozu was turning, and the other students briefly shifted their focus to her as well. Just as they all looked away, Shōta heard a click on the other end.
“Greetings, listener! You’re the lucky caller of the evening! So, what’s your romance-themed question?”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, you idiot.”
Shōta felt ten pairs of eyes snap to him in an instant, their mouths agape. A smile spread across his face as he took in their awe-filled expressions and heard Hizashi’s sputtering on the other end.
“Sh—babe, holy shit, what—”
“Oh my god—!”
“Ohhhh!”
“MIC-SENSEI SAID THE S-WORD!”
“Kaminari, is that really the most noteworthy part of this?!”
“Wait, does this mean Mic-sensei and Aizawa-sensei are married?!”
"I KNEW IT I TOTALLY KNEW IT!”
Shōta put the phone on speaker just as Kirishima flipped the game board triumphantly.
“Wait, are those the students?!”
A chorus of young voices rang out.
“HI, SENSEI!”
Perhaps entertaining a few personal questions wasn’t so bad, after all, thought Shōta, watching his class express vibrant joy over being on Hizashi’s radio show for a few minutes. He supposed he could afford to let his guard down a bit, just for today—for one useless, frivolous, meaningless holiday. And for the looks on their faces.
He wrestled with the idea of staying up all night until Hizashi came home. A couple kids asked if they could, too, but Shōta forced them all upstairs before lights-out.