Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Aizawa Shouta was stressed. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary but it was unwelcome. He didn’t understand why he of all people should be the one interviewed – there were plenty of others in their small organisation better suited to it: Extroverted people. Talkative people. People who were not Aizawa Shouta. Sure, he’d been involved in the organisation since its inception, and he knew their runnings inside out, but he was not socially competent and didn’t particularly want to be, thank you very much. He’d even happily write out the answers to whatever questions the interviewer (God, the interviewer) had so they could be read on air. But it was part of a series of interviews and everyone else had let themselves be recorded; he didn’t want to give people the impression that the organisation was standoffish and unpersonable. Shouta was standoffish and unpersonable. And he had to give an interview in the next half hour! Why did he join a cat rescue and not an organisation for introverts’ rights?

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the radio show either; Put Your Hands Up! Radio had been doing well for the last year and a half – they’d already given Mic a new slot earlier in the evening so that he could build an audience that wasn’t only night owls, and to celebrate he wanted to do a series of interviews with representatives from local charities and then choosing one to sponsor at the end via vote! It was a great idea and the publicity from an interview would already help their rescue even if they didn’t end up with the sponsorship at the end (getting the sponsorship at the end would be an excellent development, though).

But now it was all down to Shouta. Well, Shouta and Mic, technically. One of the few things that made him feel better about the whole ordeal was that Mic seemed to be a very capable interviewer, and Shouta was sort of hoping that he would be personable enough for the both of them. He’d been enjoying the show since it first aired, since neo-natal kitten care was the sort of job that had you up at night and it was nice to have some background noise as well as a way to tell how much time was passing. Even if the music wasn’t always to his taste (Mic’s tastes seemed to be quite eclectic, so any day was a grab-bag of genres), it was something. And sometimes the songs or artists made good kitten names.

But now he was going to be interviewed for it. They’d agreed to do the interview at Aizawa’s apartment since his current neo-nates were young enough to need feeding every 2 hours, so he wasn’t leaving the house a whole lot (not that you’d hear him complaining). This meant that he was having the interview somewhere he felt comfortable, but it also meant that Mic was going to be inside his apartment. Aizawa tried to keep his place clean, he really did, but kittens made messes, and if you’re up every 2 hours a night to bottle-feed you don’t often feel up to doing laundry the next day. His clothes only got covered in fur and formula when he put them on anyway! He had tried with his outfit – he was wearing his nicest jeans and a black sweater that wasn’t stained yet. He had even put his hair up to look ‘less scruffy’ (Oboro’s words).

A knock at the door. Shouta froze, checking the time – dead on half one. Mic was punctual. An excellent quality to have. Aizawa didn’t appreciate it right now. He opened the door anyway, only to come face-to-face with the most garish shirt he’d ever seen.

“Aizawa Shouta?”

He looked up to find the face responsible for choosing the awful shirt. The face was . . . not awful. Could this situation get any more stressful? Was he supposed to clarify, when invited for an interview, that he would prefer that the interviewer not be a tall, statuesque blonde with a waterfall of what looked like the softest hair Shouta had ever seen? Having to talk to someone was already stressful enough, why would they make him talk to someone attractive? This was just sadistic.

“Present Mic?” Aizawa responded.

Mic waved his hand with an easy smile, “Yamada Hizashi, ‘Mic’ is more of a stage name.”

“Yamada, then,” Shouta said, stepping aside to let him in.

Yamada gave him a quick bow before stepping inside and removing his shoes, asking; “ever been interviewed before?”

“Never.”

“Well, it’s not that bad, promise,” Yamada said with a smile, “treat it like we’re just having a chat and you’ll be fine.”

Shouta decided not to mention that he only ever ‘had a chat’ under duress.

“Should I set up the microphone on the coffee table over there, or is there somewhere else you’d prefer?”

“Coffee table’s fine.”

“Brilliant,” Mic said, setting a bag down and starting to set up.

What was the polite thing to do now? There must be a polite thing to say…“Do you want anything to drink?” Aizawa asked. Nailed it.

“Some water might be a good idea,” Mic said.

Aizawa Shouta was going to get an A+ in social interaction, something that was both normal to want and possible to achieve. He got Mic- no, Yamada, a glass of water and a cup of coffee for himself and returned to sit himself down at the other end of the sofa.

“Okay, I’ve already set everything up, so the rest of the interview will mostly just be us having a conversation,” Yamada said. Aizawa looked down at the equipment he had been fiddling with and it was just a small microphone and some wires. He thought it would be less…subtle. It almost blended in with the rest of the stuff left on the table.

“If there’s anything you don’t want to make it into the interview just let me know and I’ll cut it.”

Well, at least if he made an utter ass of himself (likely) the general public wouldn’t know. Just Yamada, the very handsome man he’d be talking to. Why did Aizawa ever agree to this? He took a deep breath. He was doing this to help the rescue. This was going to help a lot of cats, hopefully. He could muddle his way through this interview for their sakes.

“What would you like to talk about?” He asked, throwing an arm over the back of his sofa, desperately trying to project some kind of confidence as he sipped his coffee. He even made eye contact over the rim of his cup as he asked, that was polite, right? His teachers always told him it was rude when he avoided eye contact. There was a pause, Yamada looking a little pinker than before. Shit, too much eye contact? He looked away. No, he was definitely overthinking this, he made eye contact with other people every day without thinking about it this much, the interview was just stressing him out.

“Well,” Yamada started, “we could always start with why the work you do is important?”

Aizawa was taken aback, and without thinking said, “if I don’t take care of the kittens they die.”

“No, no!” Yamada said, hands flailing in front of him in surprise, “I didn’t mean it like that!”

Fuck, Shouta had messed up the interview already?!

“I meant,” Yamada said, “going through the specifics of what you do and why it’s important.”

“What kind of specifics?”

“Well, uh,” Yamada said, pausing to think, “why don’t you walk me through what taking care of a neo-natal kitten looks like?”

“Well, it depends on their age, but they need feeding every couple of hours and the rest of the time they spend in the incubator so long as there’s nothing else they need from me.”

“Okay,” Yamada said, smiling as if this was going well, “and I assume those incubators are something the charity’s funds go towards, right?”

Shouta nodded, “when we first started, I only had a heated blanket and a red-light that I bought myself, but they weren’t very efficient – the incubators we have now are much better.” He motioned over his shoulder to where there were two machines on an L-shaped table in the corner.

“I can only see lights on in one of them, do you only have one litter at the moment?” Yamada asked.

“I have two, but only one set of neonates so I don’t need the other incubator right now.”

“So those are the ones you’re feeding every two hours?” Yamada asked.

“Yeah, the others are about 4-5 weeks old, so they get fed every 5-6 hours.”

“Whereabouts are they?” Yamada asked, looking about the room.

“I normally set up a pen for them over there,” Shouta explained, motioning to the other side of the coffee table, “but they’re in the bathroom at the moment so they can’t get underfoot.”

“So how many kittens are you taking care of in total right now?”

“There’s 5 in the neonate litter and 3 in the older one.”

“8 kittens?” Yamada said, surprised, “I’m surprised you have the room!”

“The neonates don’t take up any real space outside of the incubator,” Shouta said, awkwardly.

“I know we said we could do the interview at the coffee table, but how would you feel about walking me through the equipment you use so people know what kinda things the charity’s investing in?” Yamada asked, looking over at Shouta with curious eyes.

“Uh, yeah, okay,” Shouta said.

Very suave, Shouta, he thought to himself.

“Awesome!” Yamada cried, standing up, then froze, “Crap, I was trying to keep quiet so I wouldn’t wake them!” He whispered, face suddenly overtaken with guilt.

“Don’t worry about it,” Shouta immediately reassured him, “Neonates are deaf, and the others are already awake.”

“Oh, thank god,” Yamada said, clutching his chest.

Aizawa stood up and headed over to the corner of the room devoted to kitten care, “I try to keep most of the kitten’s things over here, but it kinda spreads out over the whole flat after a while,” he said, flushing.

“I have the same thing with my radio stuff,” Yamada said, walking up next to him, and putting the recorder on the side table.

“Well, that’s the incubator,” Shouta said, motioning to where it was emitting a soft orange glow, “which I already mentioned.”

Yamada leaned over to peer inside, clearly holding back a squeal as he looked inside, “they’re so small,” he whispered, despite Shouta having assured him he couldn’t disturb them.

“They’ve already doubled their weight since yesterday, they won’t stay that small for long.”

“Doubled?!” Yamada said, turning around to look at him in shock.

Shouta nodded and then motioned to the whiteboard in front of him, where a table cataloguing the litters’ individual weights before and after each feeding was.

Yamada leaned forward to read it, asking, “so you record their weight before and after each feed?”

Shouta thought that was obvious, then realised with a start that Yamada was probably saying that out loud for the benefit of the recorder, “uh, yes,” he said, quickly trying to make up for his blunder, “you can see that most of them put on about 5g after a feed, sometimes they lose a little of that before the next one, but so long as their weight's going up steadily that’s fine.”

“That one ate 7g!” Yamada said, pointing at one column in playful accusation, “little. . .” and then there was a pause as Yamada’s eyes moved up the chart to find a name, “DURAN DURAN?!” he screeched in delight, before spinning to face Shouta with a big dumb smile on his big dumb handsome face.

Shouta looked down as he felt his face heat up, “because he’s hungry like the wolf,” he explained in embarrassment. It seemed like such a good name at 4:00 am, but now he was feeling quite silly. So long as Yamada didn’t figure out that Shouta named his kittens based on whatever songs he was playing on his radio programme though, Shouta might be able to get through this interview without dying of embarrassment.

“I love that!” Yamada crowed before immediately spinning back around to read the other names listed.

Shouta wanted to crawl into a hole at this point.

“BANANARAMA!?”

Shouta winced at the volume and nodded, still looking down at his feet.

“Oh my God, this is amazing, do you name all your cats after 80s artists?”

“Only these two litters.”

“I did a Hits of the 80s special last week! This is so cool!”

Shouta did everything in his power not to tense at that – Yamada had no reason to suspect that Shouta had named them all whilst listening to that exact special, and he wasn’t going to give him a reason to. He just needed to stay calm and play it off.

“I know,” he said, without thinking.

Yamada paused to look at him, “you listen to the show?” he asked with a smile.

“Sometimes,” Shouta said, doing his best to play it off, “I usually have the radio on when I do night-time feeds.”

“Really?” Yamada said, looking delighted and touched. Shouta needed to redirect him before he figured out just how much he enjoyed the show.

“That one’s Bananarama,” he said, pointing at the tiny yellow tabby in the incubator sleeping on her back with her legs sticking up.

Yamada squealed and immediately moved closer to the incubator to peer inside. Thank God people are so easily distracted by kittens, Shouta thought, like a hypocrite.

“Which one’s Duran Duran?”

Shouta moved up behind Yamada so he could peer in next to him, “He’s behind the teddy bear at the moment, that’s his tail poking out, over there,” he said pointing.

“And the other ones?” Yamada asked, moving over so Shouta had more space to point them out:

“The chocolate tabby over there is Toto, the cream tabby is Buggles and the solid cream one is Blondie.”

“Africa, Video Killed the Radio Star and Call Me?” Yamada asked.

Shouta nodded, ignoring how much he wanted to hear that final one said by Yamada for a different reason.

“I’ll keep an eye on Buggles then,” said Yamada looking suspiciously at the kitten, “who knows what he could be planning.”

“Well,” Shouta said, deciding to try his hand at a joke, despite it almost certainly being a bad idea, “video equipment requires opposable thumbs, so you should be safe for now.”

Yamada burst out laughing, mercifully it seemed as though Shouta had managed to make a joke land. He hoped he hadn’t used up the last of his luck for that.

“Are those the weights for your 3 older ones?” Yamada asked, pointing to the other side of the whiteboard.

“Yes.”

“Wow, they do get big quickly! There’s only a month difference between these two litters, right?”

“Roughly, yeah.”

“They weigh more than like, three times these little ones!”

“Yeah, that’s pretty standard.”

“So, I’m guessing the rescue also provides the formula, right? Cause you must get through a lot of it.” Yamada asked.

“Yes, any purchases I make for kitten care get reimbursed by the rescue, same with the electricity used by running the incubators.”

“Oh, I bet those can run up your bills, huh?”

“Yeah, but it’s fine. Like I said, they reimburse me, and the kittens need it.”

“But if they couldn’t then you wouldn’t be able to take care of these poor kittens; they’d get too cold, right?”

“Yeah, they can’t thermoregulate until they’re about a month old, and that’s only if they’re in a warm room.”

“Wow, they’re really delicate, huh?”

“Most newborn animals are.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s why specialist care like the kind you provide is so important, right?”

Shouta had to choose between being humble and impressing upon an audience how much their charity needed funding. It was not a nice place to be. Being stuck between a rock and a hard place with a beautiful radio host watching. Surely, such a thing qualified as cruel and unusual torture.

“Yes,” he said, in the end.

“What about the older kittens? What does their care look like?” Hizashi asked.

“Well, they only need feeding every 4-5 hours, as I said earlier, and they’re starting to get to the ages where we can give them their shots, which is also done by the rescue. Then a little further down the line, they’ll have their spay and neuter appointments as well.”

“I’m assuming also done by the rescue?”

“Yes. After that, they go up for adoption.”

“How many kittens have you fostered, in total?”

Shouta paused, thinking back to when he started, but… “I don’t know. I’ve never counted.”

“Do they all get adopted?”

Shouta nodded, “when they’re still kittens it’s pretty easy to get them adopted unless they have any special requirements. And the adoption fee goes towards covering the costs of most of their medical bills.”

Yamada nodded, “have you ever had any foster fails?” he asked with a smile.

Shouta couldn’t help but smile at the question, “yes, one, but she wasn’t one of my neonates.”

“Wait,” Yamada said, “are there more than 8 cats in this flat?”

Shouta nodded, “there are 9. You asked about fosters earlier, so I didn’t include her.”

“What’s her name? How long have you had her? Did you adopt her through the rescue?” Yamada asked as if they were in a quick-fire round.

“Jelly, 6 years, yes.”

“Is she in the bathroom with the kittens?”

“No, she’s in my room on her cat tree.”

“Aww,” Yamada said, which in Shouta’s opinion was the correct reaction to Jelly.

“So, you didn’t name her after any music artists?”

“No, I wasn’t in the habit of listening to the radio at that point.”

Yamada nodded, “fair enough.”

There was a quiet pause as they both watched the peacefully sleeping kittens in front of them, before Yamada shook his head as if remembering why he was there:

“What would you say is the most difficult part of kitten care?”

“When they’re sick,” Shouta said, without hesitation, “we get a lot in who are already ill, or weak and all we can do is hope they pull through. Especially when they’re this small sometimes it’s already too late but you can’t always know. You just have to wait.”

“That sounds… really rough,” Yamada said, his voice soft.

“It is. But it has to be done.”

Yamada looked back at the kittens in front of them, but now his face looked pensive and sad. Uh oh, that wasn’t good, right? People were supposed to be happy when they were talking to you, if it was going well. Had Shouta messed up again? What if he had ruined the interview? What if he had ruined Yamada’s mood?

“Do you want to see the other kittens?” He asked, in a last-ditch effort to salvage the interaction.

Yamada perked up immediately, “can I?”

“Of course,” Shouta said, trying not to let relief colour his voice as he led the way to his apartment’s small bathroom.

Opening the door, he was greeted by a chorus of high-pitched wailing from the kittens, and they were quickly joined by Yamada as he squealed in delight.

The three kittens were in the bathtub, so they couldn’t start tripping them up or trying to sneak out the door, but they were making a valiant effort of trying to clamber their way out. There were two black kittens and one calico and a bundle of towels to keep them comfortable.

“What are these ones named?” Yamada asked, kneeling to get a closer look.

“That one is Alannah,” Shouta said, pointing at one of the two black kittens.

“Alannah?” Yamada asked, looking puzzled.

“After Alannah Myles,” Shouta explained.

“Oh! Black Velvet,” Yamada said, catching on quickly.

“The other black one is Joan Jett,” Shouta said, pointing.

“Because of the Blackhearts?”

“No, because she kept hissing and clawing when she first came in so she had a bad reputation,” Shouta said.

Yamada laughed, “okay, and this one?” he said, looking at the calico.

“Aerosmith, since he’s a calico.”

There was a pause, “I…don’t get it,” Yamada said.

Shouta felt his face flush, why did he ever think that naming cats after things he heard on the radio was a good idea?

“Well, calico is a colour almost exclusively seen in female cats. There needs to be two X chromosomes for the colour to be possible, so the only way to get a male cat with this coat is if they have XXY chromosomes. Or another rare mutation,” Shouta explained, his voice getting quieter. Yamada was about to realise that he was a weird type of cat-nerd, and not just the regular, acceptable kind. He was going to see that Shouta was strange and not all the kittens in the world would distract him.

“Oh! So, since he’s a calico you named him after Dude Looks Like a Lady!” Yamada said, catching on and not staring at Shouta like he was a weirdo.

Shouta just nodded, too busy trying not to combust spontaneously.

“Aw, we’ve got so much in common!” Yamada said to the little kitten, who yowled up at him in response.

“What?”

“Oh,” Yamada said, looking back up at Shouta, blushing slightly, “well, with my hair and build I get mistaken for a woman semi-regularly.”

“Huh,” Shouta said, leaning back to look at Yamada better, whose face seemed to be getting pinker, “I don’t see it – you’re not particularly feminine. Just pretty.”

Yamada ducked his head under his arm. Uh oh, was that rude? Was that unprofessional? Shouta was just stating a fact though, surely? There was no way Yamada didn’t know he was pretty. That would be ridiculous.

“Wow, uh, thanks,” Yamada said, his voice sounding strained.

Oh no, Shouta had made him uncomfortable. Panicking slightly, he ended up going with the strategy that worked every other time he’d blundered today – kitten distraction.

“Would you like to hold him?” he asked, motioning to Aerosmith.

“Can I? Aren’t you supposed not to touch them in case their mother doesn’t like it?”

“I’m their mother,” Shouta said, scooping the kitten up and holding it out to Yamada, “and I say it’s fine.”

“Oh, uh, okay,” Yamada said, focusing entirely on the small bundle of fur now screeching up from his arms, “I mean, I thought maybe Jelly might be acting as their mother?”

“No,” Shouta said, shaking his head, “I am. Jelly likes the kittens, but she isn’t particularly maternal.”

“I see,” Yamada replied, cradling Aerosmith to his chest.

Unsure what to say next, Shouta reached into the tub and pulled out Joan (who had a much better reputation these days) and placed her on his lap.

“Do you have a favourite?” Yamada asked.

Shouta hummed, thinking, before he said, “no, not really. They’re all different, and I like them that way.”

“Very diplomatic,” Yamada said playfully.

“Well, these ones can hear,” Shouta said with a smile.

Yamada chuckled but didn’t look up from where Aerosmith had rolled onto his back to wave his paws up at him. Shouta didn’t mind. He was a very cute kitten. And Yamada was a very cute radio host.

They sat in companionable silence for a little while (kitten mews not included) until Shouta finally asked, “do you have any more questions?”

Yamada looked up at him in surprise, and for a moment he looked like there was something else to ask, but instead, he just said, “no, I don’t think so. I should have enough for the interview.”

Shouta nodded and placed Joan back in the tub, Yamada following suit with Aerosmith who had fallen asleep on him at some point.

“You’ll probably need to feed the little ones soon, huh?” he asked.

So much for no more questions, Shouta thought with a smile, “in about half an hour.”

He wandered back into the living area, Yamada following behind him as they made their way to the genkan where Yamada’s stuff was waiting.

“You’re a good interviewer, thank you for your time,” Shouta said, bowing.

“I should be thanking you!” Yamada said, “You’re a great interviewee!”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“No, really!” Yamada insisted.

“It’s fine, I trust you to do a good job with what you got,” Shouta said.

Yamada turned pink again, “Oh, well…thank you. But you were a good interviewee.”

Shouta hummed, “agree to disagree?”

Yamada laughed; “sure,” he said as he put his shoes on.

He turned to leave, but turned back after a pause, tucking some hair behind his ear, “I was wondering, actually…”

There was a long pause while Shouta waited for him to continue.

“Would…uh…would you…” Yamada looked down at him for a moment, and then in a rush said, “Would you take advance orders on a kitten?”

“Pardon?”

“Like, would I be able to call dibs on one?” Yamada said, flushed, “It’s just that I’ve been thinking about adopting a cat for a while now, and your cat rescue does such good work and I really liked Aerosmith to be honest.”

“Yeah,” Shouta said.

“Oh, great!” Yamada said though he was still blushing, and he still seemed a little tense.

“He won’t be up for adoption for another couple of weeks, but you can put your name down for him now if you like,” Shouta said, “you can pay the adoption fee in advance or when he goes up for adoption.”

“That’d be brilliant,” Yamada said.

“I can email you the forms,” Shouta offered.

“Oh! I should give you my personal email then,” Yamada said, rummaging through his bag to grab a pen and a bit of paper, scribbling something onto it. There was another pause, “Should I…give you my number as well?”

“Yeah, if you like,” Shouta said. Though he had no idea why he’d need Yamada’s number if he already had the email to send the forms to. Looking down at the piece of paper though, he concluded that it had something to do with Yamada’s awful chicken-scratch handwriting. If he misread the email address and sent it to the wrong person, at least he would have Yamada’s number to check.

“I’ll hear from you later then?” Yamada asked, not meeting his eye.

Shouta nodded, and Yamada gave him a relieved smile before waving goodbye. Shouta shut the door and turned to lean against it as he looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. A moment passed and a thought occurred to him:

Wait, could he have been given the phone number for amorous reasons?

Chapter Text

"Nemuri you don't understand," Hizashi whined into the table, "he has Mother's Day cards. From the kittens. The other staff used inkpads to put their pawprints as signatures. He has them framed."

"And he still hasn't called?" Nemuri asked.

Hizashi sighed, sitting up, "Oh, we've talked," he said, distraught, "but only about the adoption. He's been incredibly professional the entire time."

"My condolences," Nemuri said, taking a sip of her drink.

"I'm worried that after I've adopted Aerosmith, we'll just...never talk again."

"Get a date before you get the cat then." Nemuri said, "Or at the very least a rejection so you can start moving on."

Hizashi let out a self-pitying wail, falling back onto the table in a heap of distraught radio host. "Stop enjoying my misery."

"No." Nemuri replied, "I can't believe you're this caught up on a guy you can't even find pictures of. How am I supposed to know if you're right about him being hot unless you have evidence, hmm?"

"He has no online presence whatsoever!" Hizashi said, for the umpteenth time, "not even on the charity website! He's only listed by name."

"Never thought you'd end up crushing on someone so shy."

"I don't even think he's shy!" Hizashi said, "When we spoke he was really confident in what he was saying, even if he was a little awkward getting used to the radio equipment. I think he's just really private."

"Maybe he's in witness protection or something," Nemuri said, stirring her drink with the straw, "or maybe he's a murder who lures in unsuspecting radio hosts with kittens and then kills them."

"Apparently I didn't make the cut for victim, then," Hizashi grumbled.

Nemuri shrugged, "he probably just didn't spend enough time with you," she said, "in my experience, the urge to murder you grows with exposure."

"You're an awful friend."

"I'm a terrific friend - I'm sitting here listening to you still talking about this."

"I just don't know what to do!" Hizashi said, sitting up again, "I keep dropping clearer and clearer hints and he doesn't respond! Not even to reject me!" He threw his hands up in the arm, before folding them in front of his chest and pouting again, "It's like flirting with a beautiful brick wall."

"How's the kitten though?" Nemuri asked.

"He's good!" Hizashi said, getting his phone out, "Aizawa's been sending me email updates on him with pictures. He's going in for his first lot of jabs next week. Look," he said, pulling up the most recent picture of the kitten from where he'd saved it and passing his phone over to show Nemuri.

Aerosmith had doubled in weight since the interview, now looking much steadier on his feet if a little lanky still. His patched fur was long and silky-looking and in the picture, he was looking up at the camera with big, round eyes, mouth open in a mew. Apparently, there had been a chicken-paste treat held behind the camera.

"Cute," Nemuri said. "Maybe you'll just have to keep adopting cats indefinitely to talk to him."

"My apartment's too small." 

"Yes." Nemuri said, dryly, "That's the reason you can't do that."

"Have you considered getting a cat?" He asked, looking up at her with imploring eyes.

"I'm not adopting a cat to facilitate your stupid cowardly courting ritual."

Hizashi pouted.

"Have you tried just...asking him on a date?"

"Yes."

"I mean in an obvious way he can't sidestep or misinterpret."

"I literally asked him if he wanted to get drinks together - I feel that's pretty obvious."

"What did he say?" Nemuri asked.

"He said he was busy."

"That's it?" Nemuri asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Yeah."

"Ask him if he's still busy."

"What if he says yes?"

"Die."

"Okay," Hizashi said, downing the rest of his drink and yanking his phone back. "I'm going to go and grab another drink before I ask about your love life."

Nemuri gave him a Cheshire grin, "Make it a double: I, unlike you, have pictures."

"Keep'em PG-13," Hizashi said, getting up.

"PG-15 is the best I can do," Nemuri said.

"Fine, PG-15 and I get the cherries from your drinks for the rest of the night."

"Deal."

The next morning Hizashi wasn't hungover, because he was an adult and he and Nemuri always had a juice-drinking competition at the end of their nights out to make sure they were hydrated before they went to bed. He was still groggy and over-tired because staying out until past 3 am would do that to you, and his mouth tasted like cheap 'Tropical Juice Drink!' because he'd forgotten to brush his teeth after said juice-drinking contest. He wandered out of his room and past Nemuri, crashed on the sofa in a pair of his pyjamas, into the kitchen where he put the coffee machine on.

He heard a groan behind him and turned to see Nemuri with one eyes cracked open and glaring at him.

"How're you?" He asked, his voice rough with sleep.

"Killing you with the power of my mind."

"Well do it faster then," he shot back, before pouring the coffee and wandering over to pass her one.

They were Put Your Hands Up! Radio mugs, because half of everything Hizashi owned was branded merch for his own radio show. Nemuri sat up, her hair doing a good impression of Hizashi's Present Mic do, and took a sip.

"Any news from your kitten-wielding beau?" She asked.

Hizashi wrinkled his nose, "Why would there be news?"

Nemuri took a sip of her coffee while staring at him.

"You're really ominous sometimes, you know that, right?"

"Yeah."

Hizashi collapsed onto the sofa next to her, pulling her feet out of the way and putting them back on his lap, before unlocking his phone to figure out what she was being ominous about this time.

"NEMURI!" He screamed, spitting out his coffee.

"OW!" She yelled back, hands covering her ears, spilling coffee down her sleeve.

Served her right. There, in Hizashi's chat with Aizawa, which up until that point had been professional but friendly, were a set of messages that he did not remember sending. Because he clearly wasn't the sender:

Hizashi> let's trade kitten pictures! I'll go first

Followed by a picture of Hizashi flopped over the table and staring at his drink.

Aizawa> pardon

Hizashi> cute kitten, no?

Hizashi> now u send a pic of one of urs

Aizawa> I'm confused

Aizawa> Yamada are you okay?

Hizashi> this isn't zashi, it's kayama. we're out so I can complain to him abt my girlfriends

Followed by a selfie of Nemuri throwing up a peace sign.

Aizawa> I see

Aizawa> Why do you have his phone though?

Hizashi> he gave it to me when he was showing me pics of aerosmith

Aizawa> You want more photos of Aerosmith?

Hizashi> yeah, that's the point of trading kitten pics. I send you pic of a kitten, u send me a pic of a kitten <3

Followed by a picture of Hizashi trying to spear one of the cherries in Nemuri's drink with a cocktail stick. Something he could do at the beginning of the night, but not at the end of the night when they went out.

And another picture of Hizashi, this time with a hairband between his teeth and halfway through putting his hair up (in an attempt to improve his cherry-spearing skills).

Hizashi> ur 3 pics in debt to me u realise

Aizawa> Do you want pictures of aerosmith specifically, or any kitten?

Hizashi> any kitten

Aizawa> Ok.

Then three pictures of Bananarama and Duran Duran (both much bigger now).

Hizashi> and the fourth?

Aizawa> You said I owed you three.

Hizashi> I charge a high interest for kitten pics.

Then two pictures of Blondie, one of him meowing and one with a muzzle covered in milk.

Hizashi> a fifth? How generous

Aizawa> I thought we were trading?

Followed by a photo of Hizashi, triumphantly holding up a cherry, his hair already falling out of the frankly pitiful attempt at a bun from earlier.

Aizawa> I'm surprised you guys are up this late, doesn't he have to be in the studio tomorrow?

Hizashi> he's got the afternoon slot, we'll be fine. besides, ur up late too, mister

Aizawa> I'm caring for the kittens.

Hizashi> if only someone would take care of my kitten 

Aizawa> Yamada seems perfectly capable of caring for himself to me.

Hizashi> a bold claim considering I just sent u photographic evidence of him taking a full 10 mins to skewer a single cherry

Aizawa> Regardless, I'm sure that if Yamada were looking for someone to care for him he wouldn't have a shortage of people willing

Hizashi> you'd think that, and yet

Aizawa> What do you mean by that?

Hizashi> he seems to lean towards stoic oblivious types

Aizawa> I guess I can see how that might make things more difficult for him.

Aizawa> But I still find it hard to believe it would be enough to stop him from finding someone.

A picture of Jelly, curled up into a loaf on her cat tree and watching birds on the balcony.

A picture of Hizashi walking over, holding the next set of their drinks and smiling at Nemuri behind the camera.

Aizawa> Are the two of you drinking plenty of water as well?

Hizashi> when we go home we both drink at least one full carton of juice 

Aizawa> That's good.

Hizashi> do u drink?

Aizawa> Not really. I tried but it's not really my thing.

Hizashi> Zashi knows some places that serve great mocktails, u should join us sometime

Aizawa> It's not the alcohol I have a problem with.

Hizashi> Oh?

Aizawa> Caring for the kittens means I can only really leave them for a few hours at a time

Hizashi> they keep u on a tight schedule, huh?

Aizawa> They need me.

A video of Aerosmith yowling and circling around Aizawa's slippered feet, before jumping up onto his hind legs to bash his head against the camera.

A video of Hizashi in the booth, the camera is a little shaky and the music sounds tinny through the speakers:

"Zashi!" Nemuri called over the music.

"What? Why are you filming?"

"None of your business! Now be cute!"

There was a pause whilst Hizashi looked confused for a moment, before shrugging and making various heart-shaped gestures with his hands with a slightly dazed smile before breaking out into laughter.

Hizashi> u know it tells me when ur typing right?

Aizawa> What?

Hizashi> It tells me when u start typing. I know that ur typing something and then deleting it, just say it dude

Four pictures of the kittens; two of Aerosmith climbing on the countertops, one of Bananarama asleep on a teddy bear, and one of Jelly curled up in a loaf on the coffee table.

Hizashi> r u trying to distract me with kittens?

Two more pictures of Jelly, one of her mid-stretch and one of her flopped on her back with her fluffy belly showing.

Hizashi> Dude, slow down, I don't have as many kittens as u!

Aizawa> You better hope my interest rates are more forgiving than yours, then.

Hizashi> ruthless. I respect that

Hizashi> might have to go into the archives to pay up tho, brb

Aizawa> archives?

Followed by six photos from Hizashi's camera roll, some taken by Nemuri and some selfies.

There was one of him doing his Present Mic hair, which involved him sitting upside down on the sofa, his feet over the back and his head hanging off the edge of the seat so that he could use the hair dryer to coerce his hair into sticking straight up. He hadn't gotten into his Present Mic clothes yet, so he was in pink joggers and a worn, blue tie-dye t-shirt. One of him posing in a changing room trying on a vintage flower-power denim jacket in bright pinks and greens (he hadn't gotten it in the end since it was way too short in the sleeve) with a smile on a particularly good hair day. Two that Tensei had taken of him and Nemuri when they were testing out different plaited hairstyles on each other - one of Hizashi with his hair down, kneeling behind a sat-down, bare-faced Nemuri as he separated her hair into sections, and another one this time of Nemuri behind him, with a plaited crown crisscrossed through with ribbons and her tongue sticking out as Hizashi looked up at her, his mouth still open where they had been talking as she held out four sections of his hair in confusion. Then there was one of him making a snow-angel from last New Years and another one from his first week at work, sat in the booth with the 'on air' sign aglow as he gave the camera a thumbs-up. Finally, there was another changing room one of him trying on some vintage 80s platforms (which had fit and were currently in his genkan) and showing off that he could easily touch the ceiling with them on, the selfie clearly taken while he held back laughter.

Hizashi> The plaiting pics are a 2-for-1 deal bc I'm so generous and couldn't pick a fav

Aizawa> How kind.

Hizashi> so who has the cutest kitten? me or u?

Hizashi> I can see when u type and delete stuff, remember?

Aizawa> I have too many eavesdroppers to answer that question.

Hizashi> what's there to eavesdrop? ur typing

Aizawa> I think that they're all very cute and that it's pointless to try and turn it into a competition. 

Hizashi> some might consider that a diplomatic answer. I consider it a cowardly one

Aizawa> You considering me a coward doesn't bother me

Hizashi> >:(

Hizashi> see if I send u anymore kitten pics now

Aizawa: We were trading. If you stop sending yours to me then I stop sending mine to you.

Hizashi> I could always find a different trading partner.

Hizashi> know any other kitten foster dads who would b interested in this face?

Followed by a picture of Hizashi at the bar, his face grasped in Nemuri's hand so that his cheeks were squished together.

Aizawa> I'm sure many people would be interested, as I said earlier.

Hizashi> but u arent?

Aizawa> I didn't say that.

Hizashi> what r u saying then?

Aizawa> Yamada is a pleasant and charismatic person and I'm sure he has no shortage of people interested in him.

Hizasahi> very diplomatic >.>

Aizawa> Feeding times over. I'm going back to bed.

Hizashi> <link> This is a cat cafe across town. Zashi wants to invite u but's worried he'd be overstepping

Hizashi> sweet dreams ;)

Hizashi looked up from his phone in horror, "Nemuri!" He wailed.

"Has he replied?" she asked, unapologetic.

"No," Hizashi said.

"Really?" she said, looking confused. "What time is it?" She craned her neck to check the wall clock. "It's past eleven; he should be up by now."

Hizashi groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

"If he's feeding kittens then he'd have been up every couple of hours," he said, "Not only has he been up, but he's gone back to bed. Probably two or three times."

"Ouch," Nemuri said.

"Yes, ouch," Hizashi said, voice cracking.

"Want me to make you breakfast about it?" She offered.

"Can you even cook?" Hizashi asked, confused.

"No, I was gonna order in."

"Yeah, okay," Hizashi said, collapsing sideways so his head was in her lap.

"Okay, gimme a moment," she said, typing away on her phone in one hand and holding her coffee in the other. For a moment Hizashi wondered if he was the only person to see Nemuri this way - no make-up, messy bun, angle so he could see right up her nose. Maybe.

"Got you a passionfruit bubble tea with edible glitter and the most sickly sweet pastries they had," she said, before putting her phone to the side and stroking her hand through his hair comfortingly.

"Thank you," Hizashi said, pitifully.

"Sorry I couldn't get you a date, too," she said.

Hizashi sighed, "You can't force someone to like you. Or, well, you can't force someone to like me."

"I've never really needed to, to be fair," Nemuri said, "You're pretty damn likeable without my help."

"Not likeable enough, apparently," Hizashi said.

"I'm sure there are other handsome, oblivious men for you to pine after," Nemuri said.

"I'm busy with this one, thanks," Hizashi said, voice cracking.

Nemuri sighed and just continued stroking his hair. He felt himself starting to drift off again, despite the coffee, as he waited for breakfast to arrive and tried to emotionally prepare himself for adopting Aerosmith from Aizawa knowing that he'd made a move and been rejected. Eventually, the doorbell rang and Hizashi lifted his head to free Nemuri so she could go fetch the food as he flopped back down in a puddle of self-pity. His phone buzzed by his head, making him sigh before reaching blindly for it - it could be work. He took a look at the screen and then shot up, holding it up to his nose to check that he was seeing things right without his glasses.

Aizawa> Hello, I hope you aren't hungover. Also, please confirm if I'm talking to Yamada or Kayama currently.

Hizashi> Hi! This is Yamada! (⌒▽⌒)☆

Aizawa> Good. I hope you are well.

Hizashi> Yep! Just waiting on breakfast! We ordered in. (っ˘ω˘ς )

Aizawa> We?

Hizashi> Yeah, Kayama stayed over. Means I sleep on the couch, but at least she doesn't have to walk home in the dark.

Aizawa> I see. You two are good friends.

Hizashi> Yep! Known each other since high school. \( ˙▿˙ )/\( ˙▿˙ )/

Aizawa> So you two are close?

Hizashi> Very! She's one of my best friends.

Aizawa> So you're comfortable with her speaking on your behalf then?

Hizashi> Yeah, as a general rule. She knows me well and knows my boundaries, so I trust her.

Aizawa> I see. 

Aizawa> So you are thinking about going to Beans&Beans?

Hizashi> you mean the cat cafe? Yeah! It looks nice and it has some great reviews!

He watched as the 'typing...' bubble came up, disappeared, then came up again. Rinse and repeat for a few minutes. Hizashi smiled.

Hizashi> wanna join me?

Aizawa> Yes. That would be nice.

Hizashi> ☆ ～('▽^人)

Hizashi> lmk what kind of schedule you're on for the kitties and I'll plan around their feeding times! (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b

Aizawa> That's very considerate, thank you.

Hizashi squealed quietly in excitement, kicking his feet before going through his phone to look at his work schedule. He'd need to plan around that as well. A notification came up and he clicked back into his chat with Aizawa.

Aizawa> Yamada is this a date?

Hizashi> Yes.

Aizawa> Okay, good.

Hizashi fell against the couch cushion smiling at his phone.

"Someone's happy," Nemuri said.

Hizashi looked up to see her curled up in the armchair adjacent scrolling through her phone, the pastries already laid out on the coffee table and his bubble tea on a coaster. He hadn't even noticed her putting them there (he also suspected that she'd already nabbed the custard danish, but was too happy to care).

"Yeah," he said, turning back to his phone.

"You get a date or something?" She asked.

"Yeah," Hizashi replied grinning.

"With Aizawa?" She asked, the smile evident in her voice.

"Yeah," Hizashi said, a smile evident in his too.

She hummed, before saying, "I should never have doubted me."

Bonus:

Kayama> Hey, its Kayama from last night

Kayama> Zashi's friend. I got ur # from his phone

Aizawa> Hello.

Aizawa> You're both awake then, I take it?

Kayama> Yeah, just finishing up our coffee b4 breakfast gets here

Kayama> what r u up to? Feeding more kittens?

Aizawa> Texting Yamada.

Kayama> I'll leave u 2 it then. C u around ;)

(5 minutes later)

A short video taken from the armchair, Hizashi curled up on the nearby sofa and smiling at his phone in a tie-dye homemade Put Your Hands Up! Radio sweatshirt. Nemuri's voice pipes up from behind the camera; "someone's happy."

"Yeah," Hizashi said, briefly looking up at her, before turning back to his phone, smiling.

"You get a date or something?"

"Yeah," Hizashi replied, still grinning.

"With Aizawa?" She asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

"Yeah," Hizashi said, sounding softly delighted.

Kayama> thought u might appreciate seeing that

Aizawa> Thank you. I do.

Kayama> Also we need 2 organise a meet-up just us

Kayama> so I can give u the shovel talk.

Aizawa> I see. I'll forward you my current feeding schedule so we can work around that.

Kayama> great! C u then ;)