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Shouta had a...weird friendship. When he said weird, for the most part, it was because there weren’t really any other way to describe it. His friendship with Mic was exciting and albeit a bit annoying, same went for Midnight. What he had with Joke were banter and teasing, the way siblings would do to get under the other’s skin. He and All Might was colleagues, co-teaching the rascal of 1-A and the same with the other teachers.
So yes, this particular friendship was weird. Could he even call this a friendship? Shouta had a few close friends sure, but in this case, the man felt more into the acquaintances zone. But also not quite true. After all, who would meet up with an “acquaintance” at a cursed hour in the night in a dark alley for the past few years or so? Him apparently.
The loud banter of his students knocked Shouta out of his thoughts, and he stood up from his sleeping bag. Those brats seemed to have finished the test already huh? Even Kaminari was chilling and talking to Ashido. Iida had already collected all the papers, putting it into even stacks on his desk.
Everyone quieted down when he got up, shifting back to a more hushed hushed chatting instead of the chaotic yelling from before. Shouta looked at the top hero ethic paper of the stack, checking over the number. He noted Midoriya’s chicken-scratch of a handwriting, no doubt this kid would ace the test yet again.
Another look at the clock told him it was only ten more minutes until school ended, and to be honest he saw no harm in letting the kid go a bit earlier. There wasn’t anything else to do anyway, plus he could also leave so win-win.
“Alright” his tired voice echoed through the class, and the last of the banter died out. Good, at least they were getting better at acting like an adult. “You can go now, remember tomorrow we have a school trip. You will get a more detailed email later anyway.”
The class seemed to brighten up even more. Ah right, teenagers, always thirsty for some action. They rushed out the room, mouth running a mile a minute, speculating about this trip. He watched as the last student filed out, before taking the papers and exited too.
It took Shouta 15 more minutes to get back to his apartment near the school, swinging on top of buildings like some sort of cryptic. As if he wasn’t an internet myth already, what was with those posts on the internet. Some even called him Mothman, how did that make any sense? Best not to think too hard about it.
Shouta felt more comfortable the moment he stepped in the house, a hint of a smile on his lips. He could hear the lazy meowing of his cats, both domesticated one and those stray that hung out around here. First order of business, feed the cats. He filled the bowls, calling out for Nimbus and Smeagol. Shouta stood there for a moment, just waiting for the cats to rushed out. They didn't. Little fucker.
Next, sleep - He, unfortunately, had hero work to do tonight, the usual patrol. Shouta grumbled half-heartedly as he crawled under the blanket, snuggling close to the warm bed. And so he slept, comfortably with his cats sometimes walked over and cuddled up with him as time flew by. It passed too fast, and soon his alarm clock was waking him up. Shouta had never hated his work more than this moment.
Soon enough it was 9, and Shouta lazily walked out of his small apartment. The trip to his patrol route didn’t take long at all, and after a few swings he was settling on top of a building, yellow goggles in place. It was a cold night, and he tightened his scarf/capture weapon, cursing the weather. What a pain really.
The routine was something comfortable, though calling it a routine was a stretch. Routine would easily get him killed because someone was bound to learn the pattern. So he switched it up, from the smallest of adjustments like turning left instead of right or jumping down instead of keeping height. Seeing how he was still alive, that worked out well enough.
Though there really was one thing he had never really change. The ending point, while varies from streets to streets, alleys to alleys always had the same man waiting. With his cigarette lit ablaze, and that smug grin with a gap in place.
And so Shouta did his work for the night, busting a few petty crimes here and there and counting the minute until his shift ended. It was a slow night comparing to others, no major slipped up from a villain or serious fight that he had to intervene. A small blessing for a tired man like him. Seriously, juggling his work as a teacher for the hero course at UA and being an underground hero? Draining as fuck.
Shouta’s phone vibrated in his pocket, and he took it out, checking the message and time. 2:30, only half an hour to go. The message was simply an address, which Shouta immediately recognized as that 24/7 convenience store, only a few buildings away. He pocketed the phone again, before jumping off. One more patrol round and then to the store, he still had ample time.
Exactly 27 minutes later, Shouta landed outside the unassuming store. There weren’t much to do now, except to wait. He leaned against the wall, tapping his foot impatiently against the cement wall.
Exactly 3 minutes later, Giran walked into his sight as puncture as ever. He wondered for a moment how long had the other just stood there, waiting to make a dramatic appearance as he liked to call it. Walking in right on time was hardly a dramatic appearance in Shouta’s opinion, but if that was what Giran want to think then sure.
The man still had on his lavender suit and matching pants, the white shirt unbuttoned. The scarf was ever-present, as did the cigarette, its grey smoke fluttering in the air. And of course, the smug grin, showing that gap and the circular glasses. A familiar sight indeed.
Giran walked past him, and Shouta quickly followed in the other’s steps, letting the Broker lead him to this time location. To be fair it would probably be another dark alley somewhere, though at least there would be no eyes and ears around. Giran always had a spot or ten, perhaps even hundreds like that. Each Shouta marked after a meeting.
He had gone to nearly a hundred of them. He only reported a handful.
Shouta really didn’t understand why he hadn’t turned the man in yet. After all, he was a confirmed B-ranked, even if he did sometimes leave an anonymous tip for the hero side. Shouta could recognize that fancy handwriting anywhere. Well, that handwriting and the fact that Giran signed each note with a cat face.
This really wasn’t the first time Shouta think of arresting him. This also wasn’t the first time he let the thought melt away. Rationally, he should right? But then, Shouta wasn’t a robot unlike some people think, and years of tentative friendship might also come into play. When was it that he met Giran? 5-6 years ago?
Ah yes, around that time. It was during a case, the Trigger drug that enhanced the user’s quirk. He wasn’t even a teacher back then and was an active hero most of the time. He still had his hands full with that vigilante group (been a while since he checked on them) anyway, so as if there was much of a difference.
He vaguely heard Giran talking about something by his side, and Shouta focused back on reality, concentrating on that raspy voice of the smoker. As usual, he was rambling on about his business, giving not enough information for Shouta to make a definite claim. Of course, he really didn’t expect a man like Giran to slip up with details like that.
He let his friend(?) talked his heart out as the topic swiftly changed from this to that in a heartbeat, from business to cat and bunny and much more. Another thing he liked about the villain, as much as he acted unsympathetic...or well, an act or not was hard to tell, he hadn’t seen the man be too cruel to animals...Well, perhaps he would be cruel to officer Tamawaka…
They eventually stopped in a, you guessed it, dark alley in some corner of the area. There was only the streetlight and the moon to illuminate the narrow path, casting a mix of silver and gold over the building. They leaned against a relatively clean wall as if Shouta cared much but Giran and his expensive suit would be a mess after that.
“Enough ‘bout me-” his companion said after exhaling another wisp of smoke “How are you lately Aizawa?”
It was Eraserhead, then Eraser (“It was such a mouthful”), and now Aizawa. It never did go further than that, even after 6 years. For a short moment, he wondered why Giran didn't use Shouta. And why did he want Giran to use Shouta?
“Tired.” Was his flat answer, and it must have also shown in his voice enough to warrant a concerned look that flashed behind those glasses. Or perhaps because that was his answer for the last few days, or weeks, repeating without fail. Then again, when was he not tired?. The school really had been taking much more than usual out of him, this year was a pain to deal with.
“Too many paperwork and I have to draw up a lesson plan for the hero course. That and working underground…” He trailed off, shrugging.
Giran made something akin to a guilty noise under his breath, so small that normal person couldn’t pick up on. Shouta wasn't a civilian though. He raised an eyebrow in question, because why would Giran felt guilty? Or did he read it wrong?
The other chuckled, and perhaps Shouta’s imagination was going into overdrive. But there really was guilt lying under those layers of cold confidence, what even the actual fuck? He decided not to mention it if Giran didn’t want to talk he wouldn’t force him too.
So they ventured into safer territory, where instead of hero and villain work they chatted about pets. Shouta really wasn’t shy to admit that he had two whole kittens at home, each one of them adopted impulsively. That is not to mention the number of stray cats around him. He scrolled through pictures of Smeagol rolling on the carpet and Nimbus stretching on the window, smiling.
Giran had a cat and a rabbit, both treated like royalty if that fancy cat bed had anything to say. He showed Shouta their pictures on his phone with those bunny ears case that always made him smiled a bit inside.
He was in the middle of a short clip as Giran fed the bunny some green when a message notification popped in the screen. Now, Shouta really didn’t mean to read it. But he was so focused on those fluffy white ears so when the notification suddenly appeared on screen, his eyes immediately darted up. He didn’t get much of course, a strange number, probably from a burner phone and something about recruitment.
Sounded like something Giran was doing really, after all, he was the Broker. He turned back to his own phone, looking the other way as Giran typed something back to the mysterious number. The conversation picked up again, as he and Giran talked about everything and at the same time nothing at all as time flew by.
At some point, he did mention his ki- students, not by name or quirk or something drastic like that. He opted for problem child one, problem child two, etc. as nicknames. Giran also mentioned his own recruitments, simply referred to as Red and Blue.
“I found them alone, broken. Could you really believe that? How cruel~” His mocking voice said, yet his expression and the drum of his fingers on the phone told another story.
“Blue was worse for wear, couldn't even fight back. But both of them got potential.” He talked as if they were tools, and perhaps they were, but Shouta had heard enough lies like that to know Giran was lying through his (gap of) teeth.
He didn’t call the other out on that. Instead, he threw in his own story in the mix, about how Green was reckless but he had a righteous soul and potential that shone brightly. How Anger was rough around the edge but could be sharpened into a deathly blade as time went by.
They had always talked in code and riddle, hadn’t they? Nothing outright like name, they played on too different of a side to risk that. It had always been riddled like that, and a particular code that got developed as time gone by. A click of the fancy dress shoe Giran always had on, a series of knocking on the door. A snap of the finger and a flash in the night.
“You sounded like you had it rough this year eh Aizawa?” Giran commented, and funny how he wasn’t looking directly at Shouta. Did he do something?
“That’s the understatement of the year.” He replied, and wondered if Giran knew something he didn’t. Stupid question, of course, he did, the Broker had connections all around.
The sun was rising now, and Shouta watched as the first ray of light appeared from behind the cloud. Watched as the orange color reflected against the Giran’s round glasses, momentarily hid his red eyes behind the glint.
His phone beeped in his pocket, the alarm clock setting at 6 make itself known with a loud noise. Huh, time did fly when you were having fun. He lazily waved at Giran, ready to get back to his apartment or back to school straight away. They would be going to the USJ anyway, and he would be damned if he didn’t get some sleep first.
Shouta was half-way out of the alley, hand in his pocket and orange goggles hid under his scarf when he heard Giran muttered something. Then his muttering turned louder, loud enough to be clearly heard. Loud enough to make him stopped in his walk and turned back to face Giran.
“Be careful.”
Two simple words. So much more feelings and emotions behind. He stared at Giran, trying to decipher what just happened. Their night had always ended with a simple goodbye, sometimes a parting gift on special occasions. This though…
Giran was nervous, that was clear. Now with the proper lighting, he could tell how that grey hair was a mess, much much messier than usual. It was clear that the other had run his hand through those locks multiple time - a nervous habit Giran had. He was not standing as straight, as usual, his posture was not of the smugly self-confident Broker.
‘What is going on…?’ He thought in his head, looking at Giran in silence. He didn't ask that, instead, answering.
“I will.” He kept his voice aloof and casual unlikely the rest of him, panicking over the unknown.
Giran seemed to sigh in relief, before waving him off as if whatever it was didn’t happen. Well, it be like that sometimes he supposed. Aizawa glanced at his friend one last time, nodding in goodbye before walking away. He got children to teach, he would panic about this later.
(He didn’t panic about this later, he panicked right there and then in his sleeping bag under the teacher desk. He panicked on the bus, half paying attention to the students.)
Shouta missed the frown on the other’s face, the displeasure mixed with pain behind those glasses. He missed Giran walking off, calling up his contact for the day as he tried to sort out the troop for the ambush. The ambush with his Shouta in the middle of the chaos.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Shouta let out a quiet moan from his spot on the school bus, glaring at his students. They didn’t even notice his glare, instead deciding to continue with their useless chattering. And Shouta was really really getting more tired as each moment pass without a single sound of silence.
Granted, he didn’t get much sleep today, so he was a bit more temperamental than usual. Fucking Giran and his cryptic advice and worry, making his brain unable to turn off. He was extra paranoia- something he thought was impossible to even be more, he was an underground hero, paranoia was his middle name.
And so he might have dropped by his house and grabbed some more extra gear...just as a caution. A gun, cause seriously while he didn’t have a honing quirk, a gun could still deal a lotta damage. More smoke bombs, some poisoned (he should probably be more careful with that) and even more weapons! You couldn't have too much weapon.
The bus stopped at some point while he was in his head, and Shouta ushered the students off the bus. God, it was like he isn’t even a teacher, more of a shepherd really. A shepherd and 20 something sheep with one wanted to kill all the other. God, he hated this year class.
(Mic said he didn’t. That talking banana even went as far as implying he had adopted the class. As if-)
They walked in the USJ, and Shouta fondly watched as his students were amazed by the amazing place. It reminded him of his own expression once upon a time ago, excitement and thrill swirled behind his dark eyes. In all honesty, Shouta was still a bit excited by the structure and the system here, so much had changed.
He waved at 13, who waved back happily. Midoriya was already off to the site, muttered about something; Katsuki is threatening a student again with Eijiro trying to hold the explosive boy back. They would work well together, he noted mentally, perhaps pairing them up wouldn’t be that bad of an idea.
He turned back to 13, handing them a short and concise report of the students, their quirk and where did he think they should go first for rescue training. While waiting for 13 to finished reading, Shouta moved to the side, taking out his phone and scrolled through his texts, killing the time.
There were many messages from Hizashi, as expected, which probably had a bunch of memes and just silly picture that he saved for later. And some from All Might. He opened that up, reading the words and grinding his teeth in frustration.
“Sorry, Eraserhead! I’m afraid I might be late for a bit! (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄) ”
“Though you need not to worry my colleague! I will be there soon! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ ”
“PLUS ULTRA!!!
☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆ !
”
God, he could hear those text in All Might’s voice, loud and booming and making him want to go deaf. He sighed, quickly giving 13 the new before getting back to his phone. Calm down Shouta, look at cat pictures instead.
And that was what he did for the next few minutes as 13 debriefed the students on where to go and what to do. All was fine and well until his short clip of Nimbus purring started getting glitchy, the sound distorted and demonic. His phone then immediately shut off, leaving a back screen with his slightly surprised eyes reflected on the smooth surface. Wha-
“W-What’s that?!” He looked up, hearing Mineta’s panicked voice, and looked over to where the student was pointing. He saw...a void? With, oh god, one too many villains stepping out from the dark.
He leaped toward his kids, and he saw 13 moving to a defensive stand as well, ready to protect the class if things were to go south. Shouta put his goggles on and grabbed the capture weapon, ready to fight as the scarf floated up.
“But Sensei, you can’t find them all alone! Against that many...even you can’t nullify all their quirks!” He heard problem child one yelled in the background, the smart kid looked like he was going to cry. “Your fighting style involves erasure and a quick bind capture. Head-on battle is-”
Shouta looked back, smiling slightly under his flying scarf. “No good hero is a one-trick pony.” He said with false confidence. After all, he wasn't that delusional to think he could hold that many back, but damn it was he going to try anyway.
And with those parting words, Shouta jumped down the stair, quirk activated. He quickly erased a villain with a gun-like quirk, smugly laughed inside at the confused look. Oh, perhaps the element of surprise would be by his side for a while.
His scarf shot forward, wrapping around the villain before flinging them around, knocking the others off. A punch was approaching, he dodged right, using the momentum and flung the captured at the villain behind him.
Pfft, amateur.
Dodge, dodge, kick, flip, punch back, use villains as a meat shield and his own weapon. Repeated with variation. Routines could get you kill after all.
Dodge, kick, flung, kick, dodge, punch. Stabbed a bitch, a mutant type. Cocky fucker was probably thinking he had the upper hand. Well too bad then.
Kick, flung, punch, dodge, kick, dodge, flip, and shield. Three emitters, down. Many more to go.
Someone caught an end of his scarf, fuck. Shouta felt himself getting choked as he was forcefully pulled back. His hand immediately wandered toward his pocket, and Shouta let out a victorious sound at the gun he found.
Bang! Another one down, their cherry red blood tainted the USJ floor and he could breathe again.
Bang! Bang! Missed, or did he really? Shouta rolled over to one side, quickly getting back to a safer position as part of the ceiling fell down.
A sickening crunch. Three down.
They all looked afraid of him now, Shouta pleasantly noted. Oh, he was sure they underestimated him and his non-flashy quirk, well look who had the last laugh now.
A group of five surged forward, wanting to outnumber him. Dodged easily, guiding their fists to their comrades’ face, curses soon followed. No slacking off Aizawa! Must keep going on right away as more approached, surrounding him.
Hands to pocket, smoke bomb found! Throwing it down, smirking as their eyes went wide. Shouta enjoyed the surprise look one last second before grey mist covered them all. Oh, seemed like they weren’t very comfortable with losing their sight, too depending on their eyes. Unlike him.
Unlike Shouta, who ears picked up the slightest of noise as he moved left, dodging a kick to the face. The rustle of clothing on the right, the heavy breathing to the far left, growling from behind.
Waiting, before jumping up, smirking as he heard a crack of bones and yells of pain. They really were amateur. He landed on someone’s head it seemed, using that as a base to launch away from the confusing group. The smoke was clearing up anyway.
He continued the mindless fight, putting down as many villains as possible, hyper-focused. A moment of distraction meant death in his line of career, and Shouta had learned his lesson well now.
His burning red eyes looked around, scouting for more threats when he saw a blue-haired man standing near the void. He looked too relax, idling around and seemingly enjoy the fight, the leader? Oh, and there were hands everywhere, Shouta noted as he kicked another one in the knee, before knocking them unconscious with a well placed hit at the neck.
Shouta glared, flinging the newest captured villain at the presumed leader. The man dodged, turning over and glared back at him? it was hard to tell with the hands and hair. Shouta smirked, knocking another one down with a punch, taunting the leader as he flipped and choked another one with his scarf.
The man seemed agitated now, scratching his neck up and down, again and again, grumbling something under his breath. Shouta glanced at the remaining villains, pleased to see there weren’t much left on the play field. He noticed some had scattered out, going to the different terrain for his students, but oh Shouta had faith in them. The villains wouldn’t know what’s coming.
And so, with most of the minor problem out of the way, he surged toward hands man, scarf flying in the air ready to wrap around him and never let go, choking till that pale skin becomes blue like the messy hair. Oh, but his opponent was fast.
Handy man stepped back, and with outstretched hand reached to his elbow, clamming down with all five fingers. And instantly, Shouta felt something traveled through his hand as pieces and pieces of clothing and skin and soon more crumbled off, leaving him with excruciating pain and a bare elbow.
He glared at the man, quirk activated and happily noted that the disintegrating stopped. Shouta jumped back, using his scarf to wrap around the man that restricted his hand the most. The grey scarf, like a snake, surrounded him and held his two arms tightly to his body, before throwing them to the wall.
Shouta approached the unmoving carefully, slowly, each step calculated until he was closed. He was expecting curses and swear really, not low scratchy laughter that seemed to get more and more maniac as the seconds tick by. Oh, the other was hyperventilating now, laughing uncontrollably before taking in a deep breath, calming down again.
“Oh, Eraserhead! I’m not the final boss for this round.” He cooed at Shouta, before chuckling again.
“Then who is?” He asked back, voice threatening. His hair was flying along with the scarf, casting a shadow over the apparently not leader of the ambush, demanding an answer.
What he got was pain, shocking pain that zapped through his body and set his nerves on fire. The echo of a laughter was there again, or at least he thought he heard that and he heard the ground getting smashed to pieces and his vision turned red. Oh-
He felt large, colossal hand on his head now, gripping down and he felt like he was being crushed, perhaps he really was. He moved his eyes up, trying to see through the blood - his blood - and found a monster.
A literally monster, looking back at him with unmoving eyes, void of any emotion before slamming him down again. Black, then red as he got pulled up, then black. He distantly felt his arm being grabbed, the feeling of rough fingers against tissues almost paled compare to how he was feeling right now.
Then Crack! and he felt like he was being burnt alive, hot searing pain in every inch of his body. Slam! And he felt like passing out, sleeping would be a good idea. The light was getting dimmer, black edge crawled its way into his vision beside the crimson and fuck make it stop make it stop stop it just kill him already!
Was he screaming? Was that why his throat was so dry and scorched now or was it because of how he got whipped from one place to another, crushing against the hard concrete floor.
Oh, he was screaming alright, but he heard something else too. It was small, almost unnoticeable in the midst of war, a splash of water, the man’s scratchy voice, low mumbled that stood out to Shouta.
He tried to open his eyes again, cursing at another burst of pain just from such small action. Everything was blurry and red, but that green hair and the frog-like pose was so recognizable. And he saw hands, fingers, five fingers outstretched, reaching for Asui. Dust, disintegrate, fuck the pain was distracting him, stayed awake just a minute more, please.
Time stopped. His fingers made contact. His quirk flared up. And the chuckle was back, the scratchy chuckle was back, getting under his skin and making him want to scratch until it bleed but Asui was saved, Asui was saved and that was more important. Not his life, hers. Their lives.
“You. Really. Are. Cool. Eraserhead.” Each word and he was stepping closer, and closer, crouching down and looking at him through that grey cold hand. Shouta shivered involuntarily, a fear settling deep down in his gut. This was it then.
“Fini-” The sentence was cut short, and now he heard cursing. He was being released, and the cold damaged floor of USJ confirmed that. There was too much noise, he just wanted to...drift...off.
“Hang in there man.” He heard a voice, Hizashi? It was hard to tell, everything blurred together, sensations and feeling, everything messed up until it left him numb in the hands of his friend.
The world turned black and Shouta slept.
‘This was a bad idea.’ He thought, hands fidgeting around his phone, tapping against the hard case.
‘This was a very bad idea.’ He thought, tapping on an app, its icon disguised as a normal mobile game.
“This was an amazingly bad idea.” Giran muttered to the empty room, cursing at himself before clicking play.
The footage was still new, the event had only happened a few hours ago and yet the press had already swarmed to it like vultures, tearing UA into pieces. He had watched, from his huge sofa on the big flat screen, safe and sound in his lair, but not comfortable. The Broker was jittery, feet tapping against the hard wooden floor, getting more and more frantic as the security feed load.
A rare sight.
The footage played, noise scratchy and distorted, like an old cassette player. The visual, on the other hand, was crisp and accurate, tracking movement with lightning speed. An HD view, to what?
To Shouta, his Shouta, his brave brave Shouta surging forward like a soldier, a protector. For him to watch his angel tore down bodies to bodies, fast, efficient and he had hope. Hope that Shouta would be safe, he must be. Giran wouldn’t accept any other alternative, not when Shouta’s life was on the line.
His red eyes followed Shouta as his hand switched from camera to camera, keeping track of the whole fight. His amazing Shouta, fierce and smart, always hiding tricks up his black sleeves. Shouta who killed, murdered for his students. And the guilt was back, hitting him harder than ever. Wave and wave of guilt, of self-deprecation, of blame hit him, making his gripped shake and the room tilted.
You should have warned him~
You should have stopped him from going back
The blood’s on your hand Giran
You are to blame, you are to blame, it’s your fault, yes it is, stop trying to deny it, it’s on your hand, it’syourfaultyouaretoblameyoucausedthisyoumadethishappenownuptoit no stop it stop it STOP IT!
He was screaming now, breathing was hard and fuck it was his fault, his fault and Giran forced himself to keep watching - watched what you have done.
He watched on as Shouta confronted the brat Tomura, watched as Shouta’s elbow get disintegrated to dust, fading away on the battlefield. He felt cold liquid running down his hand, along with shattered glass - when had he poured himself a drink? Didn’t matter, what was the cut of glass anyway, compared to how Shouta’s pain - being thrown around like a ragdoll, something dispensable. His blood mixed with Brandy, the sting of alcohol nothing compared to his heartbreaking.
Crack! His screen cracked in time as the Nomu broke Shouta’s arm, and he let out a gasp at his friend’s scream. His vision was blurry now, had he been crying, or was it just the glitching screen of his phone?
The footage had ended at some point, and soon the room was quite saved for the sobbing. How long had he been sitting there, paralyzed by the cold hard guilt forming in his brain?
“Oi bastard! Where did you put the gaming cons- Jesus fucking Christ what the actual fuck?!”
Giran jumped, hissing at the sudden movement that made the shards dig deeper in his skin. He looked up, eyes widening at the sight of Dabi standing there, leaning on the door. Did he forget to lock it? Of course, he did...
“Ah, it’s nothin’ to worry about” He hoped his voice didn’t shake as he tried to brush off the whole ordeal, but judging by the way Dabi glared at him, he didn’t really buy it. His lies were slipping now, though at least he could blame this on...himself. It was all his fault in the end anyway, why shift blame?
He saw Dabi moved toward him, blue eyes scanning over the state of everything - bloody hand and broken glass, the cracked phone on the floor and his overall messed up state. It didn’t take a genius to realize something was wrong.
“God, what fucking happened?” He heard Dabi muttered, fussing over him like a worried hen. Oh how the table had turned, the scene reminding him of when he was the one bandaging Dabi after finding the kid on the street.
Giran sighed, his non-injured hand went up and messed with the grey hair. “Nothing rea-”
“Cut the bullshit!” Dabi talked over him, a spark of blue on the fingertip that died out so fast, he wasn’t sure it actually happened in the first place. And when had his flame got the first aid kit? He stayed silent as Dabi tried to bandage his hand up as good as possible, picking off shards of glass and dabbed away the blood.
Giran sank back on the sofa, content with watching Dabi as he tried to be calm again. Get your shit under control Giran.
“So do you, I don’t know, wanna talk about it or something?” Dabi’s uncertainty shown through his voice and his hand fidgeting, but the kid really was trying to help and he appreciated that.
“No...maybe not now at least.”
“Oh, ok then.”
And the silence was back, but not uncomfortable. At one point Dabi had sat down next to him, grabbing the remote and surfing through channels, avoiding the news like a plague.
He really didn’t need to see another interview of Endeavor or another shitty All Might segment of exclusive interviews after the ambush ordeal.
Giran didn’t even focus much on whatever movie Dabi had decided to stop on, all the dialogues and cheesy soundtracks faded to white noise. He was too tired to care, emotionally exhausted - he doubted he could stand up straight without falling over anyway.
He didn’t notice Dabi picking up the broken phone, eyes squinting at the screen. Cracked, with strips of black zigzagged through the screen and constant glitching. He could still make out the place, after all, who wouldn’t recognize the USJ after whatever just happened. Whatever it was that made the bastard a wreck was someone in the mess. A student maybe? Didn’t matter...
Whatever or whoever it was would pay.
No one messed with his people.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Beep. Beep. Beep.
It was so dark.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Where was he? Why was it so dark?
Beep. Beep. Beep.
He felt floaty, soft and mellow.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
There was a spark of light now, blinding.
“I wish I was there sooner.”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The void brightened, exploding like a supernova.
“I am so sorry.”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Shouta opened his eyes before immediately shut it again, the light was blinding. Too much.
“Aizawa! You’re awake! Oh god, I need to get the nurse.”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The too familiar smell of antibiotics and drugs, the white wall and white ceiling and white everything. Hospital. Fuck he hated hospital. And one of his hand was strung up...oh, the elbow. Fuck, the sequel.
He squinted at the bright light source - yellow, like the sun, oh. All Might, what was he doing here, cowering beside him and frantically pressing buttons? Why was he here while he still had more important responsibilities, like checking in on the students-
Beepbeepbeepbeepbe-
The students, fuck!
“Calm down Aizawa, they’re ok! All heal up too!” He must have said that aloud, but the strong words from All Might calmed him down.
Breath in - they were safe.
Hold - no one was severely injured.
Breath out - it was going to be ok.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“H-how long?” He uttered out, speaking was hard. His throat was too dry, and forming words had never been more exhausting.
“You were out for 4 days, please relax sir.” Another voice, softer. Must be a doctor then. He nodded, trying to follow the doctor's words.
Hospital and its clinical atmosphere had never been calming to him.
“What happened?” He asked, voice smaller. Take it easy, breath in, breath out.
All Might looked at him with sympathy and pity, the last type of gaze he wanted. It made his heart rate pick up, the frantic beeping filled the room.
Breath in. Hold. Breath out.
The doctor started talking, using smaller words for Shouta to understand as if he was only three years old. Fuck, he hated it so much.
“Broken bones.” The usual.
“Blood lost.” A normal day.
“Internal bleeding.” Hi good old friend.
“Almost lost your quirk.” Wait what?!
“I’m sorry, what?” Did he mishear? He must have, right? But then he remembered the smashing and felt a nasty headache coming, making him bit his lips to stop the groan from coming out.
“Yes, you almost lost your quirk. The damage done to your head and eyes were lethal, it’s a wonder you are still functioning.” The doctor explained, his voice was dripping with fake care. “You underwent a surgery three days ago.”
All Might made a choked noise from his corner of the room, eyes widen with unspilled tears, glittering under the white light. And Shouta just felt numb.
His quirk, almost gone. His quirk…
“Almost...you said almost.” All Might spoke up, with an almost forced positivity that strained his voice.
“Yes, almost. The surgery was a success, and your Erasure is saved. However, you might find its effectiveness or power changed, it’s a common side-effect from the surgery.”
Shouta nodded, silent. It would just be another challenge to overcome, a hindrance that could vanish with enough training.
He could work with that.
The doctor continued on, about a few physical and psychological examinations before he could be released before excusing himself out, dragging All Might with him. Ah, visiting time must have ended.
And so he was alone, alone in this quiet room with his thoughts. He looked over at the bedside, seeing a sudden burst of color contrasting to the white cell.
Red and green and blue and yellow more, the colors that made his eyes twitched before was suddenly his favorite shade for today, anything to fight against the pristine white walls. He lifted his hand, trying to grab the nearest card. It took much more energy than he thought, his hand was so heavy.
Shouta did finally grab the card with a victorious noise, bringing it closer. A normal yellow card, with the usual ‘Get Well Soon’ on the front and accompanied by drawing. Not the usual clip-arts drawing, his own students’ doodles. He had seen enough on their notebooks to recognized those style.
Opening the card made his heart jumped, the monitor beeping fast before calming down as he took a deep breath. 20 wishes, all from his kids. Each used a different color, each with a different handwriting.
Midoriya’s chicken scratch in green, with a pony badly drawn on the side. “Get well soon sir!”
Asui - she was alive - with a darker green, with a frog on a lily pad, tongue hanging out. “Thank you so much, sir!”
Even the Todoroki had written something down in red and blue, though lack a doodle unlike the rest of the class with a simple “Get well.”
Shouta scanned through the rest of the note, an unwitting smile grew bigger until he reached the last one from Katsuki with his bold writing and a “GET WELL SOON WEAKLING!”
The rest of the card was from the other teachers, plus a few gifts here and there. A bouquet of lavenders, a new capture scarf, a lot of cat plushies (damn it Hizashi and/or Midnight) and more.
If asked, Shouta would deny that he was actually touched by the mountain of gifts. No, he was annoyed at the gift, it was impractical and a waste of money and so he was keeping all of them so none come to waste. Comparing to the number of gifts a few years ago when he younger and more impulsive, ending in the hospital a lot more, this was...way too much. It was almost overwhelming.
He spent the rest of the day going through all the cards, reading and rereading them until he could recite the whole thing word by word.
And then there was the last one in the stack, the color a total contrast to the cheerful notes from the others. It was a dark purple, with no visible name or signature on the outside, the sender unknown. It wasn’t a store-bought card, lacking those annoying phrases and arts, just a piece of purple paper fold in half.
He reached for the last card, checking the outside twice over for any kind of signature there might be. He really didn’t like surprises, but this card could be anything from anyone. Shouta stared at it for another solid minute, before muttering a fuck it and opened the damn thing, quickly reading it over.
“Get well soon Shouta,” It read in silver letters, the curves and curls of the words that he was once happy to see now just fueled him with anger. He slammed the card close, breath picking up again.
Beepbeepbeepbeepbe-
Breath in - Remain calm.
Hold - Take it easy, he needed to get out of this hell hole asap.
Breath out - To kill a bastard.
Shouta looked down at the card and wondered what he should do next. The thoughts of tearing it to pieces like confetti crossed his mind but was brushed aside for now. After all, Shouta was, above anything else, curious. He could tear this thing, burn it and let the ash get blown away later.
“Get well soon Shouta,
I am terribly sorry I couldn't be there with you.
I’m very sorry for
what i did
what happened.
I’d understand if you don’t want to talk to me
but please at least don’t cut me out
ever again
I hope you
are alive
have a quick and successful recovery and wish you the best.”
The usual signature of a cat was there, looking sadder than ever. Then there were many scratched out words which he couldn't read, and near the end, the letters were shaky, with even a spilled droplet of ink, it was nothing like those letters of tips at the station. It was so out of character, but it was from Giran, that was sure.
Four simple sentences. How come four sentences could still make him angry and hurt and sad and all the bad but the good feeling at once. Even when he wasn’t here, Giran could still make him confused and a mess as usual.
Shouta looked over at the lavenders and wondered if that was from Giran. The ambush must had be Giran’s doing too, or at least he had a helping hand in it. If there was a way to gather that big of a gang, it would be through the Broker’s connection.
What happened at the last meeting was making more sense now, the guiltiness and the look and those parting words. ‘Be careful’ He had said, with so much emotion behind those words. Fuck.
Shouta tossed the card back onto the table, before closing his eyes. Of course, this would happen sooner or later, they were on two different sides. They were bounds to clash one way or another. It was...irrational, to think this strained relationship would survive reality. How childish of him to even think like that. Grow up Shouta.
He sighed. Now he was really truly alone in the hospital room, nothing to do with his thoughts swirling around, threatening to spill over the edge. Stop. Stop it. Stop thinking about that fucking villain, no no no. He really was in deep deep trouble, this wasn’t happening but it was and he was panicking.
Beepbeepbeepbeepbe-
Breath in - He could forget Giran.
Hold - It’d be fine, it wasn’t like Giran was...someone...No, don’t go down that train of thought!
Breath out - Just forget about him, and forget about their friendship, why not?
Breath in - It was only 6 years anyway, 6 years of nightly meeting.
Hold - It wasn’t like he was...looking forward to their chat every night.
Breath out - Giran isn’t someone special.
He could do this.
The lavender still laid there on the bedside, the flowery smell calming him down. It was sweet, not too overwhelming, gently holding him. He was over-confidence, smug and yet...still so so comforting, so sweet. Fuck.
He couldn't do this.
Shouta groaned, lying back down on the cold sheet of the hospital bed. He was mad, he was furious, he wanted to stay mad at the man. He would forgive him in a heartbeat. He wanted to forget, to move on. He would get drawn to the same alley on a cold winter night, sharing a smoke with his “friend.”
He was truly and utterly fucked. Since when did this friendship entangle itself so deep into his heart, engulfing him into this space of emotion? Since when did Shouta let himself get attached?
Apparently since now, or since years ago.
‘This Is too much’ He thought, closing his eyes. Perhaps he should just rest now, all the other thing can wait until he was healed enough to at least get back to school.
He dreamt of cigarettes smoke and gapped smile.
The next time he woke up, he saw Hizashi beside him, listening to music while reading through his cards like it was his business.
“Rude” he muttered, letting the blond know he was awake and would rather keep those cards away from prying eyes.
Hizashi didn’t even act ashamed, instead, instead shoving the 1-A group card in his face with a bright smile on his face. “Awww! See, they do care about you Shou!”
“Yeah yeah, whatever.” He grumbled, ducking down to hide his face behind the scar- oh wait. He was still in the hospital gown, exposed and defenceless. Kinda, he had fought in a worse state.
“You’re not going to stop looking through my stuff right?” He asked, voice resigned.
“Nope!” Came the cheery respond.
Shouta sighed, sinking back down to the bed, done with everything. Hizashi was still beside him, talking excitedly about the card, commenting on every little detail. His friend’s voice wasn’t so loud now, the blond had clearly lower it since they were both in a hospital. Ah, he could fall asleep to this, just like how he did multiple time before - Hizashi had a great relaxing voice when he wanted it to.
Just as his eyes were about to shut and sleep almost claimed him, Hizashi let out a particular louder noise that shook the bed and made him jump. He turned toward his friend, glaring with his quirk activated on instinct before another headache assaulted him.
Fuck, right, operation, quirk different.
He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and tried to ignore the painful headache. “What?!”
“Shou! You didn’t tell me you had a mysterious friend! How could you hide this from me!” The melodramatic tone was back, and he swore Hizashi did this to annoy him specifically.
“What mysterious friend?”
“Purple cat!” Oh- “Woah, they didn’t even sign the card. Oh, do I love a good mystery! Detective Mic is on the case!”
He snatched the card back, growling “You will do no such thing you hear me? Plus, he’s just one of my...acquaintances.”
Hizashi’s grin widened, and at that point, he knew his loud friend was not letting this go, not by a long shot.
“Just an acquaintance eh?” He asked, voice teasing and damn Shouta was getting hot now, he was definitely blushing. With no scarf to hide under, of course, Hizashi would catch all the detail.
“Come on Shou~! Spill the tea! Tell me all about this juicy secret relationship!” Hizashi was practically vibrating in his spot now, bouncing up and down like a puppy. An overgrown puppy in an adult body.
“There’s no secret relationship-” Well...it was a secret relationship, after all, if the news came out about how he was meeting up with a villain, things wouldn’t be pretty. “-He had been helping the agency and the police station for quite some time now, you can ask the others.”
“Oh don’t mind if I do!” He was definitely going to do it, and who could say no to the charismatic Present Mic? Not his coworker, that’s who.
“Hizashi, please, just leave it be won’t you?” He asked again, looking straight at his friend, a note of desperation leaking in. The last thing he need was people trying to look into this Giran... He was still trying to protect the bastard. No, he was trying to protect his imagery in the hero community, get your priority straight Shouta.
“...Alright then.” Hizashi replied, shrugging lightly before moving on to the other cards, acting as if the whole thing didn’t happen. Thank god for small miracles.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Himiko was worried. Which in itself was quite a rare thing to happen, there weren’t many people to be worried over in her life and Toga prefer to just let all worries go.
Hakuna Matata baby!
But while there weren’t many people in her life, she had always had a soft spot for Dabi - the flame user who took her in a long time ago. She wasn’t raised by the best of families, and with a quirk that needed blood, such a villainy quirk, she was bound to be kicked out eventually.
That was when she met Dabi, another homeless kid on the street like her, with deep burned scars on his skin. Dabi was older, and he was more experienced with both the street and his quirk and he had protected her. Taught her what he knew. Rescued her from the cold and hungry pathetic state she was in.
Somewhere along the line, Dabi had become an older brother of a sort in her eyes.
After a few years of surviving on the street, she and Dabi against the whole world, Giran walked in. Or well, more accurately, they walked in on him. Oh, Himiko wouldn’t forget that day, keeping the memories close to her heart.
She and Dabi were on a run, from a couple of thugs in the area. Usually, Dabi would have roasted all of them to death, but it was an unfortunate day where they hadn’t eaten anything, or well, a few days.
They ran through the dirty street and into many shortcuts they had discovered in a few years around the area, yet still unable to catch the thugs off. Left, right, right, left, straight, fuck, a dead end.
Though this time, leaning on the wall was a man, idly smoking in a fancy suit. What? Who did that? Dabi had stopped, staring at the stranger while Himiko looked back, seeing the group getting nearer and nearer.
They were surrounded, she and Dabi and strange suit man. She doubted she could climb up that wall, or if she could fight back against seven or so adults. Dabi glanced at her, and she saw fear flashed in his eyes as her brother desperately tried to summon the blue flame. There was only a small spark.
They were getting nearer, grinning and snaring and she stepped back until her back touched the wall. Dabi was also in the same situation, though he had a small stolen knife he had out, holding it in a shaky grip.
Strange suit man didn’t even seem fazed, just keep smoking and exhaling the grey smoke, that fancy smell assaulted her nose. The distant kept closing as the men approached, and Himiko snarled, hoping her sharp fang would at least intimidated some. It didn’t, they only saw it as cute, like an angry cat.
“Back off will ya?” She heard a voice, and looked over to strange suit man, seeing him talked back to the thugs as if they were only ants under his shoes “Or else your dealer is gonna be pissed. Wouldn’t want the contract to be canceled now, do ya?”
The thugs visibly stiffened, though only a few of them stepped back. The man sighed, pulling out his phone with a pink rabbit case that made her eyes shone and pressed a few buttons. Soon enough there was now another voice coming from the device, distorted enough to keep their identity hidden.
“What are you all dumbfuck thinking?! Retreat right fucking now you fuck, god! I can’t believe I’m stuck with you lot” The person was yelling and Himiko relaxed as the distance was cleared. Whoever strange suit man was, he had enough influence to tell them to fuck off, and she was grateful.
He was talking to the person on the phone now, chatting friendlily as the last of the thugs retreated, leaving the three of them alone in the alley. Dabi seemed hesitant to moved away from the wall but did so with shaky steps, and she walked over to her brother, hugging him tightly. Dabi hugged back, even with more strength than her.
He was warm, not as warm as usual with his blue flame burning bright, but still- Himiko reluctantly pulled away, detached herself from Dabi as she turned over to look at strange suit man. He was off the phone now, back to smoking the cigarette as if the whole ordeal hadn’t happened.
His round glasses hid his eyes though she was sure he was watching them. Was that a good or bad thing? She knew she wasn’t supposed to attract attention, so were they in trouble? He had much more power, he had managed to order those thugs to leave them alone. And he didn’t even result in violence, just a phone call.
Dabi had also looked at the man, the same puzzle expression mirrored her. He must be thinking the same thing she was, his mind running. If Himiko concentrated, maybe she could hear the cogs and gears turning.
“Thank you!” Himiko said, her voice the usual high psychotic tone as people had pointed out before they were knock out cold and get their blood digested. She did that a lot, disguising as random people and buy the two of them the necessities. After all, two ragtag kids were equal to trouble, who would actually let them hang around?
Dabi also muttered a thank you beside her, smaller but the sincerity was there. And then he turned back, holding her hand and dragging her away from the man. Stranger danger, he had said once.
“Do ya kids need help or something? You seem a bit, ah.” The man gestured vaguely at both herself and Dabi “- well, you two are in some trouble.”
“We will take care of ourselves.” Dabi cut him off. “We don’t need your help.”
Her brother was back to being snarky, though that seemed to only amuse the man. “Ah, yes, like you don’t need my help back there with those guys.” He replied teasingly, and Himiko giggled a bit while Dabi frowned.
“How can we trust you?” He shot back, and she nodded along. A valid point indeed. For all intent and purpose, he was suspicious as fuck. Loitering around in an alley smoking then casually told off a gang, he could be kidnapping them for all she knew.
“I could’ve let you die there.” He pointed out. “Wasted a small favor to call them off. Plus they think I’m interested in you too now, might as well.”
“Are you interested in us?” Dabi followed up right away, moving closer to Himiko and placed a protective hand on her shoulder...Yeah with that face, he did look like a p-
“What! No! Did you really just-? No!” Ok, nevermind, that was too real to be acting. And too funny, the way the man actually looked scandalised at the mere implication of that. Himiko giggled again, which turned into happy laughter echoed off the alley.
“Then why help?”
Strange suit man hesitated, opening then closed his mouth, shrugging. He seemed as clueless as they were, trying to think of something. Then he gave them an answer, though calling it an answer would be a stretch. He didn’t answer shit.
“Cause I want to. ‘Cause Why not?”
Looking back, Himiko was still clueless as to the reason Giran decided to take both of them in, and that was one of the more recurring questions she always asked.
“Why?”
Giran always shrugged, shooting her a smile before turning back to whatever he was doing. Himiko would let the question go, skipping back to her job with a cheerful wave. It was a routine now, and Giran intended to keep his mouth shut tight.
After all, he couldn’t tell his two favorite
adopted children
recruitments that he simply thought they needed someone. They needed family and someone to lean on and trust and damn even if he knew there was someone out there better fitted for this, but those tiny humans were his now.
If they knew this they would never let it go, and Dabi had got enough blackmail material on him thank you very much.
Himiko and Dabi both leveled a man with the fiercest glare a kid could make, which just made Giran grinned wider, not a bit scared.
“I’m Toga Himiko!” She introduced herself after a period of silence, earning a glare from her brother and a nod from strange suit man...That nickname was going to stuck, even after she knew his name. Not that he would ever complain.
Dabi still grumbled beside her but did eventually give his name like a petulant 3 years old.
“Giran.” Strange suit man replied, smiling wide and only then did she notice the gap in his teeth. Damn, she was curious about the story behind that? Oh, Giran probably got fucked up in a fight, but she hoped it was more interesting than that. He seemed like an interesting kind of guy.
He dropped the cigarette to the ground, crushing it with his shoes before began walking off, Dabi and Himiko followed quickly. Falling in step with the man, she and Dabi traded look, before Dabi nodded, deeming the man “safe” for now. That was good enough for her.
He led them to a fancy long car, opening the door and ushered them in. It was warm inside, not as warm as Dabi’s flame but it would do and Himiko sunk deeper into the soft seat. Dabi kept on grumbling, but she knew he was grateful too, and he was definitely enjoying this.
“There’s probably some snack back there, help yourself. It’ll be a long ride back anyway.” Giran called from his place, and the car started running. Dabi had already located the good, passing her a some chips and he himself gets a sweeter flavor.
At some point, Dabi had fallen asleep on her, his messy hair found its way on her shoulder as Himiko finished the last of the snack, eyes had begun to felt shut. The two kid slept the whole way, safe and sound for once in their life.
And now, another person added to her list, their Giran. He was something alright, someone, who raised them from that point and gave them education and training, making them stronger and better every day. Himiko would be lying if she said she didn’t see strange suit man as a father figure of a sort, and she knew her brother felt the same way. A dysfunctional family indeed.
Which brought her back to the point, because Himiko was a lot of things, and protectiveness was definitely on the list somewhere. So yes, she was very worried when she walked in the room grinning only to stop at the sight of Giran sleeping on Dabi’s shoulder, the man seemed more tired than ever. She didn’t think she had seen Giran that dead on his feet.
Dabi was still wide awake, and put a finger up his lips when he noticed her, being as careful as not to move too much. Himiko nodded, before tip-toeing over to the duo.
“What happened?” She asked, keeping her voice small and light.
Her brother shook his head, shrugging with his unpreoccupied shoulder as best as he could. Didn’t know then. He gestured to the cracked phone on the ground with his foot, and Himiko picked it up, inspecting the thing.
Giran’s favorite case was on, the bunny ears would always make her giggle. The screen was cracked horribly, even with small pieces falling on the wooden floor. It was still viewable, and if she tried hard enough the touch-sensitivity was still there.
Her yellow cat-like eyes focused on the footage, or well, a frame of it. The whole video had long frozen, the visible part of the screen shown a man elbowing someone in the face, hard if the blood had anything to say.
So whoever this man was, he was responsible...probably. That or the video was just paused at the wrong time, but it looked like the camera was focused on him and him alone. Giran wouldn’t have camera tracing some dead ass villain he picked up on the street.
Himiko briefly wondered who could affect Giran that much, and why hadn’t she know about them. Dabi was clueless too as she showed him the screen, and the two shared a look.
They would find him, and that man better had a good explanation for what happened. No one made Giran a miserable bastard, except for them.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Shouta was back at school, walking to his class for a homeroom period. He had aced all the physical and mental health test, and the hospital had seen it fit to let him go. Good, Shouta didn’t think he could stand another second in there.
At least he wasn’t a walking mummy on day one, he was more of a half-hearted Halloween costume that had been given up halfway. He wondered if he could move the bandage up like his scarf.
Shouta didn’t try to find out. That meant activating his quirk and if he could minimize that it would be great. His quirk could still erasure other’s, but he could only keep his eyes open for a much shorter time. Hmm, what if he only looked at them with one eye, then change eyes?
His hypothesis was cut short when he stopped in front of the class, and Shouta hesitated. His class usually was a pain to deal with, the least he could hope now was for them to behave a bit.
He slid the door open. There was no chattering or banter, no explosions, and no loud music, no nothing. He walked in, and instantly feeling 20 pairs of eyes staring at him. This was uncanny.
They were neatly sat in their own seats, what the fuck, and was behaving, what the fuck?! Even the usual troublemakers were quiet…
“Iida.” He called, watching as the class president stood up, “Mind explaining to me what happened?”
The boy adjusted his glasses nervously, hand chopping in the usual motion. “Sensei! We had uh…”
Even the class president was hesitant to disclose the plan, and at this point, Shouta was a bit scared of whatever they were going to do.
“...I won’t be mad, just tell me. Or keep your secret and do a test on Wednesday.”
Denki was, as expected, crack first and blurted out the special secret. Shouta’s teaching tip: threatened them with tests and they would talk like there was no tomorrow.
“We’re planning a party for you sensei please don’t make us do more tests!”
And that was when the silent facade cracked, and the class started talking all over each other, throwing ideas all around.
“We should get cats! Like plushies! And lots of pillows! And a sleeping bag too!”
“Sensei doesn’t like people much so only invite some close friend of his? And us of course”
“Cake cake cake! What type of flavor do you want Sensei?”
He could feel the headache creeping around the corner, and he sighed. Katsuki seemed to be the only one notice, as the explosive blond yelled at the class to “Shut up, you extras!”
Sometimes he really liked Katsuki. Which was a very weird thing all by its own.
The class did quite down, thank god. He sighed, picking up a chalk and started writing down information about the sports festival, ignoring the confused look of the class. When he turned back, they had all finished reading what was written, and the class’s atmosphere got more serious. He could see gleams of competitiveness rising out from his students, clenched fists and determined eyes.
“Right, if you want to, I don’t know, actually throw a party, save it for later. We got more important thing to concentrate on.”
The class nodded at his words before Ashido’s cheerful tone came up again. “Sensei sensei! If we win you will let us throw you a party right? Right?”
Aizawa frowned but nodded regardless. Perhaps this was some weird kind of motivation for the kids, so good for them. “If...this class get at least 5 people in top ten then we can talk.”
And the tense atmosphere was gone almost instantly, as Ashido and Denki cheered, while the other laughed, promised to do their best...Hizashi was right, he was so whipped for the class.
“Alright then, since the festival is the only thing I want to bring up today for this period, and we still got...quite some time left, you can do whatever you want as long as it’s not hurting, maiming, destroying property or disturbing the other class. The usual, got it?”
He didn’t even wait for their answer, instead just sat down under the teacher’s desk, wanting some well-deserved rest. He would need all the rest he could get the next few days, after all, the sooner he got out of these bandages the better. And so the class chatted on, not noticing the usual quiet Kouda Kouji as expected. The boy was usually too shy to participate, often gazing out of the window more than chatting.
This time he was still looking out, though his eyes shifted between watching the tree and glancing at Shouta, blinking in question a few time. This was him?
Himiko found it hard to believe really, that this was the one. He was nothing of special, there wasn’t anything that stood out about him. His whole demeanor and attitude screamed boring, but if he was boring Giran wouldn’t have been...attracted by the man.
She had one day to observe this man before she had to return the original Kouda back to the class. He wouldn’t remember anything, but that boy was too shy to speak up anyway. So Himiko watched as Aizawa slept behind the teacher table, chest going up and down in slow rhythm.
Haizz, Dabi’s plan was boring. He was the one that dug up all the information Giran had about the man - Aizawa Shouta, Eraserhead, and had sadly found nothing much besides the most basic of record. Comparing this to the other files was like looking at a piece of paper then a whole dictionary.
Dabi had suggested that perhaps Giran had destroyed the file he had on Aizawa, and that sounded the most possible. But Giran? Willingly destroying someone’s file? Never heard of that. He still had hers and Dabi’s file, more hidden in the database but still there. So this Aizawa must be the one then, but why? Why why why?
Himiko sighed, directing her eyes back to the tree outside. It was going to be a long day. She just hoped Dabi was distracting Giran enough that he forgot about the pain.
Unfortunately, Dabi was doing a not so good job if the half-empty bottle of drink and the mess of paperwork on Giran’s desk had anything to say. Dabi shrugged helplessly at the mess, before tapping on Giran’s shoulder, waking him up.
He left for a few hours at most, searching for documents with Himiko and he came back to this. Sometimes Dabi wondered if he was the only responsible one around here, at this state? Definitely.
Dad did wake up with a loud groan, his hand immediately went up to his eyes, covering them from the light. Ah, a hungover then. Giran was never that good at holding his alcohol…
“Come on, we got work to do you bastard. Get your ass up and go.” He scolded, acting as normal as he could (read: a sassy fucker.)
This really wasn’t the first time this had happened, Giran usually had these late meetings that lasted through the night, that or he was just out smoking. All those time it was Dabi who woke him up, usually with a bucket of cold water or a harmless blast of heat, and get him to start his day. God, he really was the only adult here.
Giran let out another groan, ah, the headache must be killing him then. Dabi passed him a glass of water, staring at Giran until the bastard downed it all. Good, he would give Giran some painkiller later.
“God, what even the absolute fuck happened to you?” He muttered, feeling a headache of his own creeping up.
“Life happened.” Came the almost depressing answer that got Dabi blinked in surprise. Huh, usually he would just ignore the question…
“Yeah, too fucking bad then.” He shot back, falling into a friendly banter though he couldn’t quite hide the hint of concern. “We all got shit to deal with, including you, so get up.”
“Alright alright, I swear you are worse than Shouta.” And there was that name again. A slip of mouth from Giran? Almost impossible, but that was what happen, or he just stopped caring anymore...Probably the second one...hopefully…
First the video, then some not so subtle sobbing after drinking, then now...Sending Himiko to spy on the man was a good choice then. Dabi wanted to learn more about the man who caused all this, for...reasons of course.
“There you go with that name again, what’s the deal with him?” Dabi probed, perhaps Giran was simply in a talkative mood today. Again, hopefully, he wanted some information.
“Hmmm, I fucked everything up and he would probably be mad at me.” Giran spat out, with malice and anger but rather than directed at the man...it was at himself? Oh god, this was worse than he thought. Self-blaming and Giran, two things that should never go together.
“You? Mr.I-want-everything-to-be-perfect? Fucking things up? I’d believe it when I see it.”
As an answer, Giran just flung a piece of paper at Dabi weakly, before laying back on the table again. At least he didn’t touch the bottle...not yet that was. He needed to get all alcoholic substances away from Giran soon.
Dabi caught it easily, looking at a definitely freeze frame from a camera in a hospital. On the bed was...a mummy. Or well, Aizawa all wrapped up like a mummy, he couldn't even see much of the pale skin.
“Yeah, an underground hero injured. What’s fucking new?” Oh wait...he got fucked up during the USJ which Dabi knew Giran had a helping hand in. He wasted quite a few day finding an army for that League, that explained the self-blaming then.
“You didn’t, this wasn’t your fault you dick!” He slammed the picture on the table, making Giran yelped and looked up at him with bloodshot eyes, redder than usual.
“You weren’t there beating him up, hell, the little shit you sent there didn’t even do that much damage and I doubt you have a...whatever the purple thing was. Now stop being a wallowing bitch and get up.”
Giran looked at him for a few minutes, an uncomfortable silence washed over the room. Dabi didn’t like people staring at him, but Giran...those red eyes took him apart and study his inside, bits by bits. It made Dabi feel vulnerable, but the flame user didn’t look away.
“Alright. Yeah, y-you’re right.” The older man finally said and Dabi sighed in relief, glad that this...emotion thing was over. He didn’t think he could stand this any longer.
“...Thanks, Dabi.” Came the muttered words, and Dabi sighed.
“Whatever, just, I don’t know, clean your dead ass up or something. Jesus Christ aren’t you supposed to be an adult?”
Giran just chuckled at his words but nodded anyway.
Throughout the day, Dabi kept a close eye on Giran while acting like he wasn't. That included barging in randomly asking where the gaming console was, casually walked in to steal whatever there was in the room and being himself.
Huh...did he subconsciously do this whole thing to keep an eye out too? Oh motherfucking god he did. But at least Giran seemed to have at least slowly getting back to being himself, so at least that happened.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
02/05/2XXX
Giran: The newly opened bar, angel light. I’m at the back.
(Read.)
03/05/2XXX
Giran: You know that new 24/7 convenience store? Just wait at the front.
(Read.)
04/05/2XXX
Giran: It’s weird, texting you now.
Giran: I saw the news, and the footage.
Giran: Will you be mad at me when you wake up?
Giran: I’d probably deserve it…
Giran: I hope you will be ok.
> Are you sure you want to delete these messages?
> 5 messages deleted.
05/05/2XXX
Giran: So, you’re still in surgery right now.
Giran: Quite a long time...Not much of a surprise though.
Giran: I’ve seen what that thing done to you.
Giran: I still don’t know what that is...I will ask Mist soon i guess.
Giran: Imm sorr y anyway.
Giran: Shoulda warned you that night…
Giran: I dontkn ow wha t would i do withou t you
> Are you sure you want to delete these messages?
> 7 messages deleted.
06/05/2XXX
Giran: I left you a card.
Giran: And some flower too.
Giran: I wonder if you’d like it, you never seem to be one for flowers and what not.
Giran: I heard the surgery was a success.
Giran: I’m glad that you’re alright.
07/05/2XXX
Giran: You’re awake now!
Giran: That’s great
Giran: Is it bad that i was watching you through the camera in the room?
Giran: A bit pathetic, i know.
Giran: I even started talking to you.
Giran: Guess i miss you a bit too much.
Giran: Text back when you can?
(Read.)
08/05/2XXX
Giran: You’re already back to school.
Giran: You should rest more you know.
(Read.)
09/05/2XXX
Giran: Are you not going to respond?
Giran: I guess i deserve it, don’t i?
(Read.)
10/05/2XXX
Giran: Heard you’re back to hero work.
Giran: Be careful.
Giran: You still haven’t fully recovered.
Giran: Do you want to meet up tonight?
Giran: If anything, i’ll be waiting in front of the store then.
(Read.)
11/05/2XXX
Giran: You didn't come.
Giran: Well
Giran: I’ll always be waiting here.
Giran: So feel free to drop by.
(Read.)
12/05/2XXX
Giran: Hope you can take all the bandages off soon.
Giran: Oh, the kiddos are calling.
Giran: I will talk to you later?
(Read.)
Aizawa is typing . . .
13/05/2XXX
Giran: I miss you.
Giran: Please reply soon?
(Read.)
Aizawa: Miss you too.
> Message could not be sent. check your network and try again.
Aizawa: Huh.
> Message could not be sent. check your network and try again.
14/05/2XXX
Giran: I came across another child today.
Giran: 14 something, he’s still in his school uniform.
Giran: As you guess, I took him in too-
Giran: My pets are still doing fine btw
> Giran sent a photo.
Giran: Cute no?
Giran: Anyway, how was your day?
Giran: Hmmm-
Giran: I guess you’re still pretty tired.
Giran: But the recovery seems to be progressing quite nice!
Giran: How’s your class?
Giran:
Giran: Kinda pathetic having this one-sided conversation with you, isn’t it?
Giran: Will you ever reply?
Giran: Hope you will.
(Read.)
15/05/2XXX
Giran: Hi.
Giran: Nice day today isn’t it?
Giran: Or well, nice night.
Giran: You’re probably still in the middle of your underground work.
Giran: Be careful by the way.
Giran: Well, when you’re done.
Giran: You know the place.
Giran: Hope i’m not bothering you with the messaging.
Giran: I just want to talk to you i guess.
(Read.)
16/05/2XXX
Giran: Hey.
Giran: I found out about the thing that-
Giran: Well you know, the big purple thing.
Giran: Anyway, i don’t think i can share much, especially not through text
Giran: Perhaps i can tell you more face to face?
Giran:
Giran: Yeah, i don’t actually know much about it.
Giran: You can probably see through that lie already.
Giran: Heh.
Giran: I just wanna see you at this point.
Giran: See you, not watch you through the CCTV.
Giran: Oh well.
Giran: Talk to you soon?
(Read.)
17/05/2XXX
Giran: Just saw the sports festival.
Giran: It’s weird hearing your voice from the tv.
Giran: Red and Blue watched it too, we bought a lot of snacks.
Giran: Blue was extremely invested btw, with one of the kids in your class.
Giran: Hope you’ve been well.
(Read.)
18/05/2XXX
19/05/2XXX
20/05/2XXX
21/05/2XXX
22/05/2XXX
23/05/2XXX
24/05/2XXX
25/05/2XXX
26/05/2XXX
27/05/2XXX
28/05/2XXX
Aizawa is typing . . .
Aizawa: Can’t believe i’m actually missing your text.
Aizawa: Fuck.
Aizawa: I miss you too.
Aizawa: Sorry for not replying btw.
Aizawa: Took a while.
Aizawa: To stop the whole blaming that is.
Aizawa: I hate emotion.
Aizawa: But it’s your job.
Aizawa: Plus you didn’t actually want me to get beaten to a pulp.
Aizawa: At least i think you don’t.
Aizawa: Anyway, sorry about that.
Aizawa: You can’t feel the sincerity through text so perhaps i do need to say this face to face.
Aizawa: Though it seems like you’re busy doing your thing.
Aizawa: Oh, the class’s about to start, hope to hear from you soon.
Giran: What the fuck-
29/05/2XXX
Giran: Oi!
Aizawa: oh hey.
Aizawa: You’re back.
Giran: The old man isn’t back yet.
Giran: Still out there doing god knows what.
Giran: Fucker left his phone though.
Giran: Looks like old age is catching up on him.
Aizawa: And who are you?
Giran: Eh.
Giran: One of his fav.
Aizawa: So you’re Red or Blue?
Giran: Oh? Giran talked about us eh?
Giran: Blue i guess.
Aizawa: So the sassy one.
Giran: Yeah sound bout fucking right.
Giran: Anyway, enough chit chatty.
Giran: Wtf did you do to him?!
Aizawa: Gonna need more context kid.
Giran: He cares about you.
Aizawa: Yeh, surprise what years of friendship do to your heart.
Giran: Wait, friendship?
Aizawa: Yes.
Giran: What the fuck do you mean friesdfghjkl-
Giran: Asdfghjuiop’][poig
Aizawa: Are you ok?
Giran: HI! :D
Giran: OOOOH! YOU MUST BE SHOUTA! :D
Giran: HEWWO HEWWO! O WO
Aizawa: Red i'm assuming?
Giran: AWWW! DID HE CALL ME THAT? :0
Giran: YEP YEP! ;3
Giran: YOU CAN CALL ME TOGhjqwertYUIOP[‘nbv-
Giran: Yes, that’s red, ignore what she said.
Giran: >:0!
Aizawa: I can see what Giran meant when he said you two are childish.
Giran: ARE NOT!
Giran: Yes, I’m the childish one that helps the fucker when he’s drunk off his ass and moped around like someone die.
Giran: So childish, i know. I’m not the pining one in this relationship.
Giran: SHUUUUSH! :\
Giran: AT LEAST LET HE CONFESS IN HIS OWN TIME! :3c
Giran: As if it isn’t obvious enough.
Giran: S H U S H! >:|
Aizawa:
Aizawa: What?
Giran: Nothing for you to worry about.
Aizawa:
Aizawa: Ok then…
Aizawa: Anyway, so Giran just forgot his phone then?
Giran: lmao yeh
Giran: It’s ridiculously easy to guess the pw.
Giran: IT’S SHOUSHOU- HAHAHAHA!
Giran: OH THIS IS COMEDY GOLD!
Giran: Saw your notifs blowing up his phone~!
Giran: I’ll tell him his Shouta texted when he get back.
Giran: “HIS SHOUTA”
Giran: THAT’S YOUR NAME ON HIS CONTACT!!!
Giran: THIS IS SO CUUUUUTE!
Aizawa: …
Aizawa: Just call me Aizawa.
Aizawa: Ugh, chatting with you two is just like dealing with my class. Painful.
Aizawa: Bye.
Giran: Bye bitch.
Giran: O WO/ BYYYYYYYYE!
30/05/2XXX
31/05/2XXX
Giran: Aizawa!
Aizawa: Hey.
Aizawa: Im assuming you’ve re-read the stuff above.
Aizawa: Cool recruits you got there.
Giran: Right, ignore what they said.
Aizawa: Been doing that already.
Aizawa: Anyway, what’s up with you?
Giran: Work work.
Giran: I heard some news, and got some things done.
Giran: I’m just glad you reply-
Aizawa: Me too.
Aizawa: Sorry again btw.
Giran: Im sorry too.
Aizawa: Nonsense, you got nothing to be sorry for.
Aizawa: Except maybe all the villainy stuff.
Aizawa: Ok not a maybe.
Aizawa: Oh wait that means-
Aizawa: Nvm, you know what i mean.
Giran: Yeah.
Giran: So-
Giran: Do you want to meet up at some point?
Giran: I really do miss you, ya know?
Aizawa: Yeah.
Aizawa: Intern week’s about to start, so i’ll be free for most of the week.
Aizawa: Thank god for small miracles.
Giran: Great then!
Aizawa is typing . . .
.
.
.
Aizawa is typing . . .
Aizawa: Wanna swing by my place?
Aizawa: Or perhaps yours, can you imagine if you got caught on camera near me?
Aizawa: And idk if Mic will do one of his surprise visit.
Aizawa: You still there?
Aizawa: Gir?
Giran: He said yes.
Giran: >:3c! HE WILL PICK YOU UP!
Giran: He will when he’s done being a mess.
Giran: HE WONT STOP BEING A GAERTYUIO-
Giran: Sorry.
Giran: But yeah, I will send someone to pick you up.
Aizawa: K.
Aizawa: Notify me bout the time first and we good.
Aizawa: Also you do realise you can call me Shouta right?
Giran: He’s back to being a mess again.
Giran: Excuse us, I think he needs something to drink.
Aizawa: K then
Aizawa: Talk to you later ig-
Aizawa: Bye.