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The first time Hitoshi sees Midoriya he gets an odd sense of deja vu. He doesn’t speak to him exactly, instead he addresses his entire class, but he catches the other’s form from the corner of his eye. He spends the rest of his day wondering why those eyes looked so familiar.
The Sports Festival happens, and even though Hitoshi loses to the smaller teen he can’t help but swear he’s seen him before. Of course, true to his own nature, the lilac teen ignores it and forces himself to focus on training and getting admitted into the hero course.
It’s not until he moves into the 1A dorms. Hitoshi becomes friends with Midoriya almost as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The way they talk to each other and sit next to each other is comfortable, practiced, like they’ve done this before. Midoriya’s smile, his bright green eyes, his freckles, they all seemed reminiscent of some earlier part of Hitoshi’s life.
Sometimes, he wondered if maybe they had known each other in a past life, but then he shakes his head at the thought.
The answer comes to him on a regular Wednesday evening. Hitoshi knows he won’t be falling asleep anytime soon, insomnia and him being old friends, so he does what he's done since becoming a hero student. He goes off to bother his neighbor and insomnia buddy, Midoriya.
The teen knows the door’s unlocked, because even if Midoriya falls asleep, he leaves it open so Hitoshi can steal some of his snacks. Therefore when he comes into his room he’s not too surprised to see Midoriya cuddled half-asleep in his bed, half under his god awful All Might covers.
What does surprise him however, is the plushie in his arms.
An old, tattered looking thing, with some clearly sewn up patches and a missing eyeball. It’s kind of gross, but the purple kitten plushie sparks a handful of memories buried deep in his subconscious. Memories of younger days where he spoke a mile a minute and could smile wide with no fear, days long before the whispered words of criminal and villain reached his small ears.
“Shinsou? Are you okay?” Midoriya mumbles around a yawn, tugging the plushie tighter into his embrace.
Hitoshi’s fine, physically at least. He just wanted some snacks and maybe a midnight chat if possible, but now he has to come to grips with that fact that there is no way in hell he hasn’t met Midoriya before. He holds up a finger, asking for a moment, before heading back to his room to rummage through some boxes he had yet to unpack.
He manages to find all the things he’s looking for after the third box, gingerly holding an old action figure that on any other day he wouldn’t be caught dead with out of sheer humiliation. Still, he could never truly throw it out, not even when his mind whispered that the other had forgotten. That he wouldn’t want him anymore, not with his quirk. That he was replaceable.
When he enters Midoriya’s room again the other is out of bed, scarred hands rubbing away sleep from his emerald eyes, the threadbare kitten still in his arms. Hitoshi doesn’t say much, simply holds up the figure and waits for Midoriya to speak.
Emerald eyes grow wide. “I didn’t know you liked All Might, Shinsou!” Midoriya practically vibrates in place as his thoughts pour out of him.
“Wow! That's the limited edition one too, from All Might’s Silver Age. That's so cool! You know, it’s funny, when I was in kindergarten I had one just like that, it was my favorite, but I ended up giving it to my friend who moved away as a wedding gift at our fake wedding. It was kind of silly now that I think about it, but well we didn’t have rings and my mom told me that gifts are about intention and all that stuff, so I gave him my favorite All Might because he was one of my favorite people and he gave me this guy,” he holds up the purple cat, “as his gift. I cried so much when he left, but thankful I still had Hicchan here to see me through it.”
Hitoshi wordlessly holds up a small worn photograph in his other hand. It’s one of the few from his childhood that he personally keeps, instead of being placed in the family album where his dads can gush about how cute he was. He’s smiling wide at the camera, holding the purple plushie his dad won for him at the carnival, and he’s so happy it’s almost jarring comparing it to the face he makes now.
He watches as Midoriya’s mumbles slowly tapers off, as he glances between the All Might figure in his left hand and the picture in his right. Suddenly the shorter teen freezes, before gasping and his eyes flicker up to meet Hitoshi’s.
“Oh my god, we’re married.” He whispers, finally coming to the right answer.
Hitoshi nods, “Yup. Back of the jungle gym, where you somehow conned Bakugou into being a wedding officiant.”
“I’m your husband,” he whispers softly, before gasping again, “you’re my husband.”
“That is also correct,” Hitoshi replies, pulling out a piece of paper from his back pocket. It’s a simple white piece of paper, with the words Hicchan and Zucchan are married by Kacchan written in a bright orange crayon. Midoriya’s mother’s signature is written on a very squiggly line that says witness. There’s no doubt in his mind that this was a child’s handiwork, but Hitoshi will take it as it is.
“Here’s the wedding receipt,” he says, handing the paper to Midoriya.
“It’s a marriage certificate, honey,” the shorter teen teases, “I’m pretty sure I have mine somewhere in this room. Honestly it’s probably with all my other important documents.”
Hitoshi chuckles, because of course he would. Still, it makes him oddly giddy that Midoriya still holds a childish paper in such high regards. That he didn’t forget about him, not completely.
Midoriya runs his thumbs over the sheet fondly, before looking up at Hitoshi. “So what happens now?”
The taller teen shrugs, before a soft smirk graces his lips, “Well, we never did get our honeymoon.”
The suggestive comment is absolutely worth the blushing boy squawking at him in embarrassment. “I—we—I—we haven’t even kissed—Shinsou, I—I can’t believe you’d—we were children—”
Hitoshi laughs, closing the distance between himself and Midoriya, hand reaching out to hold a freckled cheek. “Let’s start with the kissing then,” he suggests.
He doesn’t have to lean down too much. Not when Midoriya immediately springs himself up on his tippy toes to peck him on the lips. His enthusiasm makes Hitoshi's chest flutter and he can’t help but giggle into every subsequent peck on the lips.
No wonder his dads are always stupidly happy around each other, he thinks as he rests his forehead against Midoriya’s, a boyish grin on both their faces. Having a husband is awesome.