Death Did Not Take Him… - Beware_The_Tristero - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia (2024)

Chapter 1: I knew you could do it, Shou~!

Chapter Text

Shouta… couldn’t believe it…

Garvey, his hulking mass barely breathing, was down for the count…

He’d won.

He’d won~!

“Shira—” he began, his best friend’s name almost leaving his mouth, the word intermingled with joy and astonishment, as he turned back to the devastated building.

The same building where the body of the boy he’d been (secretly) in love with since he’d literally floated into class, Sushi so conspicuously hidden in the clouds he’d used for modesty’s sake, was still lying amidst the debris scattered ground.

He wasn’t moving…

The Nursey children were crying…

Their teacher was a sobbing mess as she clutched them to her in the drizzling rain…

No.

No, no, no~!

Moving despite the ache in his limbs, his mind, his heart, Shouta was skidding on his knees, his pants torn in the wake of his fear as he desperately scrabbled at the older teen’s seemingly lifeless body.

“O-Oboro~!” he gasped, fumbling hands shifting a few peppered chunks of masonry away from the other’s face; “God-damn-it~! Answer me, you—”

“H-heh… what’s w-with all’a’the… yelling, huh?”

Feeling the nausea that’d been threatening him leech away, the sounds of paramedics, the police and civilians slowly trickling through his senses, Shouta found his eyes tearing as they gazed at the dazed, sky-blue irises of his friend (alive, breathing, a river of scarlet smearing down from his brow and nothing more).

“Y-you did it, Shou~!” the other smiled, his perfect teeth smudged by the crimson still sluggishly crawling down his handsome (albeit bruised) features; “you did it~!”

Blinking, his left-hand scrubbing uselessly at his eyes, the right-hand already clutching at the trembling fingers of his partner, the eraser-quirk user could only nod as Hizashi rounded him to kneel at his side whilst His Purple Highness, his battered form limping towards them, barked at the ambulance crews to move their asses and tend to his interns.

God.

He’d never been more relieved in his life…

~*~

Oboro had never been one for hospitals (sure, his mom was a nurse but, for him? The sterile environment, serious faces and smell of disinfectant wasn’t something he could ever get used to); however, if lying in bed whilst his grumpy, little tsundere took care of his every need would be part of his treatment, then he’d learn to manage.

“Shouta, honestly, I’m fine~!”

“You have three minor skull-fractures, a mild concussion, three broken ribs and a busted collar-bone, you moron” the dark-haired teen quipped angrily whilst re-fluffing his pillow, those adorable features pulled into a worried frown that looked more like a pout if you asked him; “how in the nine rings of hell is that fine, huh?”

Raising his hands (bandaged; there were only a few scrapes and a bit of swelling hidden beneath them) in surrender, the older of the two seventeen-year olds offered the shorter man a sheepish grin; “umm, it could’ve been worse, I guess?”

“Tch, don’t remind me” the capture-weapon user huffed, his body momentarily leaving the bed-side so that he could pour his partner another cup of the (ugh, how could he drink this stuff?) violently coloured gatorade his father sent to him from America, his eyes rolling at the silly-straw the older hero insisted that he needed. “You’re lucky that your head is so full of clouds that the bricks just bounced right off of you…”

“H-hey now~!” the ivory, azure accent-haired boy chuckled, his smile possibly one of the most glorious things Shouta had ever seen; “that’s not a very nice thing to say~!”

“It’s true, though” the shorter quipped; “now come on, your mom said that you needed plenty of liquids while we wait for Recovery Girl to get around to you… even if this does look like toxic waste” he grimaced: “I daren’t think about how much sugar is in this stuff…”

“Heh, don’t knock it until you try it, Shou-kun~!” the staff-wielder chirped, his lips making ridiculous (adorable) sucking motions at the straw’s approach.

Rolling his eyes (his cheeks pinking from embarrassment at the other’s antics and not because he looked cute as he made those stupid kissy motions) the younger hero-trainee steadied his hands (which were only trembling out of exhaustion, not nervousness or worry, thank you very much) and watched the other drink.

They… they’d been really lucky, hadn’t they?

If that huge, corner stone of the building’s collapsed roof had fallen just a little more to the right, then…

“Oi, you okay, man?”

Blinking, a huff leaving his lips as he turned away, Shouta heard himself say “m’fine” before depositing the almost empty glass onto the little side table next to the bed, his body turning toward the private room’s door as he prepared to leave before he did or said something that’d ruin their friendship; “now come on… you need your rest, so…”

“I might need you hanging out with me more, though” Oboro called, his body sitting up (albeit stiffly), his expression pleading; “do… do you really have to go?”

“I…”

“Cus, you know… ugh… I’m pretty sure that that creepy-nurse has got the hots for me and, well? She might not be so quick to check in if you’re watching over me, you know?”

“Heh… so what? I’m supposed to stay awake and guard the door?” the raven-haired teen quipped even though there was no heat, no venom in his words; “what about me getting some rest, huh?”

“Oh… umm, ah, there’s plenty of room if, you know, you wanted to camp out in the bed with me… maybe?”

Blinking slowly, his hand stopping as it reached for the handle, the erasure-quirk user felt his cheeks ignite at the implication.

No… no he couldn’t… he didn’t mean to offer something so personal, surely?

“Hah~! Sorry~! I didn’t mean to make this weird~!”

Carefully looking over his shoulder, Aizawa Shouta became aware of two very important things; the first? Oboro was blushing harder than he was and looking as though he thoroughly regretted asking him at all.

“sh*t… I didn’t… I wasn’t… I…”

The second?

“Please… please don’t hate me for saying such a stupid thing…”

He sounded devastated.

“Oboro” he breathed, his form jerkily moving as though this was all some strange, hyper-realistic dream; “I… I don’t hate you I… I never could… you… you’re” he said, their eyes locking, both of them brightening as a quiet, amazing understanding of their feelings unfurled between them…

Could this be real?

Did they really…

“I…”

“Hey guys~!! Look who’s here with surprise hamburgers, fries and onion-rings~!!”

Baulking, the door he’d been so close to almost smacking into his back, Shouta leapt out of the way with a yelp as Hizashi made his grand-entrance with a thoroughly grinning Nemuri and heavily bandaged His Purple Highness (on crutches, of all things) quickly following.

“Maa~ Eraserhead~ What are you doing all pressed up against the wall like that, ah?”

Feeling his quirk activate out of sheer ire alone, the shortest member of the ‘Three Dum-igos’ snapped his seething, red glare to glower at the sunny-blonde who recoiled, his body twitching into a defensive stance, the paper-bags of fast-food moving with him as he gasped.

“You almost flattened me, you moron~!”

“Wah~! No~! Don’t choke me… with your… stupid-d… d-death-scarf-f-f~!”

Watching as his two male best friends comically wrestled with each other whilst Nemuri (the fourth and arguably best member of their rooftop quartet) merrily stole their sneaked in food-stuff and brought it to the table his precious Gatorade was resting on, Oboro could hardly contain his laughter whilst the Pro-Hero hosting their internship snorted and hobbled past them.

“Boys these days” the flamboyant hero grinned; “although… it’s quite strange to see you this animated, Aizawa-kun” he commented whilst moving to settle into the one of the two guest-chairs framing the oldest teen’s bed: “don’t tell me that we may have… interrupted a moment between the two of you, hmm?”

Blanching, his hands tugging a little too tightly at the weapon he’d looped about Hizashi’s neck, Shouta looked from the leering Pro, to a gleeful Nemuri, his (not so secret from the sound of things) crush and then back to the now blue-faced voice-quirk user.

Oh, why God?

Why?

“N-no, we…”

“Wah~! You’ve finally confessed your feelings for each other~!! Yatta~!!” the scantily clad hero in training squealed, her body rushing him with a hug so powerful that they both crashed to the sterile ground; the force, in turn, tugged the captured blonde to tumble atop them, his form managing to cough out a “c-c-congrats, guy-ys~!”

What?

What?!

“Wait… just… wait a God damned minute~!” Oboro called, his features incredulous as he pointed at the puppy-pile containing his friends that couldn’t be closer to him if they were family, his voice hitching up a pitch; “how… when… why didn’t you tell me that Shouta liked-me, liked-me, huh?!”

What~?!

“Cloud-child, puh-lease” His Purple Highness snorted, his eyes rolling whilst he shook his head and pointed one of the crispy, golden fries he was enjoying in the blue-eyed boy’s direction; “you two have been making goo-goo eyes at each other from the moment Midnight walked you through my agency’s doors” he tittered. “Why, if it wasn’t for dear Nemuri-chan telling me that you were both totally oblivious, well, I wouldn’t have known that you weren’t dating” he smirked, his eyes veritably glittering: “ahh~ is there anything sweeter than young love?”

Swallowing thickly, his gaze landing on the younger teen as he and the others pulled themselves back up (Hizashi giggling behind a hand whilst he and the somnambulist-user worked to detangle him), the quarter-staff wielder couldn’t help the smile crawling across his lips.

“Heh… really?” he heard himself say, his tone a little giddy; “so… uhh, what d’you say, Shou?” he pushed, a hopeful feeling skittering its way up and out of his chest: “you wanna go out with me when, you know, I’m all better?”

Arms folding self-consciously, the raven-haired teen somehow resisted the urge to fidget or, better still, launch himself out of the partially opened window, his temperature reaching boiling point as everyone stared at him.

“Idiot” he mumbled; “‘c-course I do” he replied hotly, his teeth gritting: “ugh~! And what in the world are you two cackling at, huh?!” he speedily redirected, an accusatory finger ramming at the other trainees as the pair leaned on each other in a chuckle-fit whilst the odd “you’re so cute~!” toppled from their lips.

“No I’m not~!” he veritably howled, his hands bunching into fists whilst he desperately tried to convert his awkwardness into ire.

“Aww~ I can hear wedding-bells already~” the Pro (who was steadily making his way through the food the teens seemed to have forgotten about) sang.

“W-what~?!”

“Oh, oh! That means I’ll get to be ‘best-man’ and DJ extraordinaire while Nemuri-chan’ll rock the festivities as your ‘maid of honour’~!” the blonde crowed excitedly.

“T-that’s not—”

“Yay~! And I’ll make your wedding outfits, too~!” the trench-coat wearer gushed, her hands clapping together.

“N-now j-just wait a s-second—”

“Which means that I can officiate the ceremony and we can hold the reception at the Purple Revolution Agency’s function-hall~!” the oldest of their group chimed in cheerfully, the three of them nodding at each other whilst, their boisterous ideas becoming progressively more grandiose, Oboro and Shouta locked eyes once more.

Yeah…

Yeah this, this could be the start of something beautiful, couldn’t it?

Chapter 2: First Date and Foreboding…

Chapter Text

All for One considered himself, amongst other things, a patient man.

“P-please sir we… we’re sorry…”

However.

“We… we didn’t know he was so skilled~!”

Like all things, his good-will had a limit.

“We… we can try again, we… we won’t fail you a s-second time, sir…”

“On that point, we have reached an agreement” he drawled, his shadow encrusted form observing the cowering idiots on the other side of the computer-monitor, his lips lazily pulling a drag from an exquisite cigar he’d treated himself to; “but, before we conclude our business altogether, I was wondering if you could explain a few things to me?” he mused.

“O-oh yes, yes of course, s-sir, we…”

“How is it” he cut through, one of his more competent associates silencing the fool he’d entrusted such a simple task to; “that, even with Garvey creating ample opportunities for you, I do not have in my possession the body of that erasure-quirk user, hmm?”

“B-but…”

“What in the world made you think that a few, paltry blood-samples would be enough for what I need?” he continued; “why did you think that such a measly offering would mean you’d continue to live your pathetic lives?”

“N-no… no boss! Boss! Please! Please don’t… aaaahhhhhh~!!”

Sighing, a touch of annoyance peppering his psyche, All for One waved at the screen to dismiss the images of the simple-fools from his sight, for not even the spilling of their guts would be enough to lighten his darkened mood.

No.

No, he would not be content until he’d secured, created, the perfect guardian for his precious Tomura.

A task that he’d thought almost complete.

A task that would have been child’s play with the right cadaver to mould into a Nomu capable of such dedicated and important service.

Tch.

And now he’d have to make do with the blood-quirk user he’d been targeting for other purposes, wouldn’t he?

But still, progress was progress and he’d not been alive all of these many years to simply give up in the midst of this stumbled hurdle plus, the cloud-user’s abilities could be beneficial if properly cultivated from the gobs of blood his underlings had scraped from rubble Garvey had created, better still if it was blended with other quirks, yes?

Yes.

The good-doctor could see to that now, couldn’t he?

Smirking, another puff of creamy smoke cloying the air, Japan’s number one villain settled more comfortably into his chair before inclining his head towards the butler so silently awaiting his whims; “get Kyudai Garaki on the line” he ordered, another sickly swirl of vapour leaving his chapped, wrinkled lips: “phase two is a go…”

~*~

Three days later saw Shirakumo Oboro back in His Purple Highness’ agency and class 2A’s usually raucous environment, his forehead sporting a light scar and his smile as radiant as it ever was…

“So… have you two planned your first you know what, yet?” Nemuri purred, her elbow nudging Shouta’s side whilst they watched the energetic seventeen-year-old show off his war-wound even as Hizashi fanned the flames of the class’ excitement through his wild gesticulations and MC skills.

Luckily for them, not only had the school-day not officially started yet but their sensei had given up trying to dim the coos, questions and banter to simply allow the students to have their fun before the standard routine kicked off in earnest.

“Remind me again how that is any of your business” the broodier of the pair huffed; “I don’t pester you about your love-life, do I?”

“Maa~ Shou-kun~ you know that me and my cutie, song-bird of a boy-friend would give you details if you asked~” she veritably sang, her body leaning closer to his whilst he slumped in his chair, those dark, tired eyes slipping away from her waggling brows to observe the older teen he’d been pining for since the start of the year.

He genuinely couldn’t believe his luck.

How could someone so vivacious, charismatic and friendly possibly see someone they were attracted to when he looked at him?

Then again, he’d always found it difficult to understand what the other (along with their equally flamboyant friends) saw in him, anyway.

Out of all the amazing students gathered here today, why befriend him?

Him, an orphaned nobody who’d been living in a care facility since he was eight, his outlook negative, his face demure by default, his tiny, state-funded apartment (thank you, talent-scouts) not big enough to house himself and a cat in…

“—Shouta was the real hero out there, that day~! But I bet he’s not taken any credit, as usual~!”

Blinking out of his thoughts, the raven-haired teen physically flinched when everyone snapped their (curious, disbelieving, impressed) stares in his general direction.

Oh Goody…

“What? Aizawa-kun~! You didn’t say anything” the class-rep called, her multi-coloured eyes narrowing on him curiously.

“It wasn’t such a big deal” he shrugged (whilst silently wishing that the ground would just open up and swallow him).

“Heh, isn’t that just like you, huh?”

Feeling his frown deepen to a scowl, the erasure-quirk user glowered at Sensoji.

God, what was this guy’s problem with him?

“You took out a villain taller than the building that almost turned Shirakumo into street-pizza and then you just sit there like that bastard didn’t take out a Pro and the rest of us who were there” he sneered. “So what? Was it that easy for you, huh? You think that you’re some kind of big-shot now?” the blast-user ground out, his brows furrowing angrily; “feh! You got lucky, that’s all…”

“Hey~!” both Oboro and Hizashi cut in, their eyes narrowed as their sensei mournfully put the newspaper he’d been trying to read to one-side.

Was it too much to ask for a quiet ten minutes before lessons had to officially start?

“Tch, you two are always sticking up for that creep~!” the bulked-up teen accused; “just because you think he’s hot-sh*t doesn’t mean that the rest of us have to—”

“Alright, that’s enough” their teacher grunted, his glasses flashing in warning. “Sensoji? Aizawa not wanting to boast about his hard-earned achievements isn’t a justification for calling him names or jealousy” he said, the boisterous boy’s face flushing with anger-lacquered embarrassment.

Watching on, their smirks positively devious and pleased, the voice and cloud quirk users (still at the front of the room) high-fived each other, offered their raised hands to their (nonplussed) teacher before, seeing they’d over-stepped a line, quickly bowed their apologies and skittered back to their seats.

“B-but, I… I’m not~!”

“Is this something that we need to waste the Principle’s time with, hmm?”

Grumbling, his body deflating (after he’d shot a particularly nasty glare at Shouta who merely lifted a brow at him whilst Nemuri stuck out her tongue, a protective arm thrown about the other raven-haired teen’s shoulders), the muscular boy grunted out a “no sir”.

“Good” the oldest member of the desk-sprinkled chamber nodded; “now then… I want to see everyone getting their internship journals out” he instructed whilst turning back to the board, his well-practised hand writing instructions upon it with a blue-marker. “Let’s start the day by looking at the targets your Pro Hero mentors have given you for next week’s placements, alright?”

~*~

Lunch-time rolled around faster than expected and, as they usually did, the roof-top quartet converged upon their favourite spot to soak up the sun and listen to Hizashi’s latest play-list on Oboro’s gourd-speaker whilst their chopsticks eagerly dug into the bentos they’d purchased from the canteen.

“Man~ I can’t believe that the weekend is nearly here already” the blonde of their group sighed dreamily; “and, you know, since this’ll probably be one of the last times we can have these blessed two days to ourselves, what d’you say that go to the arcade tomorrow, hmm?” he asked before, with a leer: “unless you love-birds have other plans?”

Nearly choking on the rice he was eating (whilst his hero-partner laugh-snorted), Shouta levelled a glare at the boy so suggestively waggling his brows at them, his cheeks pinking; “ugh, fine~!” he grumped: “if you must know, we’re going out Saturday night… so, umm, we can go to the arcade with you two during the day, if you want” he huffed.

“Oooohhhh~!” The couple already dating (and had been since the end of their first year at UA) gushed in unison; “where are you going?” Nemuri followed up gleefully: “and what are you doing~!?”

“It’s a surprise~!” the cloud-quirk user beamed, his shoulder gently nudging the now bashful teen that was his partner (and soon to be boyfriend); “and Shou’s even agreed to wear something other than black for once~!”

“I-idiot~!” the capture-weapon wielder stuttered, his face heating; “that’s not such a crazy thing, is it?”

“Umm, it kind’a is for you, though” the female member of the quartet said thoughtfully; “and that’s coming from the girl who picked Midnight as her hero name, you know…”

~*~

The rest of the school-day passed by much too quickly for a certain, binding-cloth user’s liking and, quicker still, the day spent with their friends rolled around (and filled with laughter, ramen and a few plush-toys won from the crane games that Oboro swore he wasn’t manipulating through tendrils of his clouds) and ended.

Which meant, for better or worse, he now stood in his virtually empty studio-apartment, his eyes staring morosely at his sparse wardrobe.

sh*t.

Why had he agreed to wearing colours again?

Black clothing was just so much easier to take care of and they helped him to blend into the background (where he was happiest, where villains wouldn’t see him lurking, where such fiends would believe he was of their ilk until it was too late to run).

Hell, the only colour in the whole of his living space consisted of the yellow sleeping-bag (rolled up and ready to carry), his UA uniforms, the potted cactus Nemuri had bought him for his birthday and the second-hand rice cooker (bright-pink; he hated it but he couldn’t do without one) sat upon his small kitchenette’s main worktop.

“Well… look’s like it’ll have to be that shirt Hizashi go me for Christmas” he murmured to himself in the relative quiet of the room (the apartment complex he’d been housed in was in a more dubious area of down-town and situated close to three freeways and the entertainment district; not that he minded, he was always tired, anyway). Then, a quick glance at the walled clock (a Felix the Cat caricature with moving eyes and a swinging black tail that Oboro had picked up for him at some point) behind him, Shouta sucked in a deep breath and pulled his usual clothes to one side, his eyes alighting upon the t-shirt the blonde had declared he would look ‘super cute’ in.

God.

The only saving grace was that there were cats (‘Pusheen’ his mind correct) on it; the adorably cubby, grey feline happily posed on the front and back, its form circled with American fast-food items: he probably wouldn’t have minded wearing it if it wasn’t for the violently, rainbow tie-dyed cloth that made up the majority of the garment.

“Still… it’s too late to back out now, isn’t it?” he sighed, his right-hand brushing through his freshly washed hair.

This was going to be a disaster, though.

He didn’t know the first thing about romantic relationships (outside of those stupid Disney movies his friend forced on him; reading the Japanese subtitles hadn’t bothered him as much as Hizashi sobbing and Nemuri trying her best to second along) and worried, greatly, what a failed attempt at this might mean for their friendship.

He…

He didn’t want to lose Oboro…

“Boy, would you get out of your head, smile and try living a little, hmm? A surly disposition and lone-wolf attitude does not a well-adjusted person or Pro Hero make~!”

Grunting, His Purple Highness’ visage playing across his mind’s eye (the man was proving to be far more than just a mentor hosting him for his mandatory work-experience, wasn’t he?), Shouta grabbed the item, his newer, ebony cargo pants and favourite pair of black, biker-boots (one of the few luxury items he’d allowed himself).

Ready or not, disaster or not, he had to at least try.

The villain attack they’d both survived could have gone so differently, after all, and he wouldn’t allow his pessimistic nature to rob him of this chance…

~*~

“Hey~! Shou~! You made it~!”

Smiling, his nervousness dying beneath the older teen’s eager call, the erasure-quirk kicked his walk away from the bus he’d caught up a notch, his right hand rising in acknowledgement as other people busily walked around them; “hey yourself” he replied, his shoulders rolling in an easy shrug: “is this where we’re having our date?”

Throwing his hands up and folding them behind his head, the cloud-user smirked at him in a way that made his mad his stomach ripple; “wouldn’t you like to know, hmm?”

Rolling his eyes (and desperately trying to affect and coolness he was never quite capable of), the younger boy moved to walk beside him as they walked into an area sprinkled with small eateries, karaoke-bars (please God, no… he couldn’t sing for sh*t and Hizashi would never forgive them), shops and…

“H-huh?”

“Surprise~!” Oboro crowed, his glee infectious; “they only opened last week” he said as he watched, his smile turning more endearing, as the adorably-shy teen he’d been in love with since he’d watched him give the stray-kitten they rescued his umbrella and then walked to school in the rain.

God, he was gorgeous.

Especially when he looked at something so simple with such wonderment.

“This… this is great” the darker-haired hero trainee admitted.

“Yeah, well… it get’s better” the taller chuckled; “I booked us two hours in the kitten-room” he explained as Shouta looked to him, those impossibly dark eyes sparkling at him in wonder: “so, ugh” he stuttered, his own cheeks pinking, his arms returning to his sides before, in a feat of bravery that he hoped would be taken the right way, he offered the other his hand.

Then, fingers wrapped around his own, the broader of the pair led them into the Neko-Neko Café with high hopes and romance on his mind…

Chapter 3: Revelations…

Chapter Text

Oboro couldn’t believe just how well their first date was going…

“We’ll have to get one of these feathery things for Sushi, won’t we?”

The cat-café, as he’d hoped, turned out to be the best place they could have gone; their conversation was flowing, the kittens were almost as adorable as Shouta with one of his rare, true, unironic smiles brightening those handsome (yet still boyish) features.

Heh.

It wasn’t exactly heroic to ask the staff if he could have access to the CCTV footage of their date but he was willing to bet Hizashi and Nemuri would be more than happy to hack into the café’s security system to grab him a few screen-shots if he asked nicely enough.

They weren’t feared and respected by the R&D department for their quirks*, after all…

“What’re you planning?”

Blinking, baulking and desperately trying to look nonchalant (tch, that wouldn’t be possible now, would it?) the cloud user rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly whilst his free hand taunted two ragdolls with a mouse he was swiftly pulling on a string; “ugh… what?”

“You had that look you get when you’re plotting something” the younger teen clarified, his eyes narrowing at him; “you’re not thinking of doing something weird, are you?”

“W-what~?” the broader of the pair tried to deny, the ridiculously fluffy felines he was playing with mewling in annoyance when the toy rodent didn’t move fast enough; “I… I have no idea what you’re talking about~!” he (not so) skilfully lied.

“Uh-huh” his date deadpanned, his form daubed in all manner of kitten-cuteness. God, it’d be worth owing Hizashi a whole bucket of his favourite fried-chicken just to get a photo (Shouta had insisted that their phones stay in pockets as per the café’s privacy-policies) of the boy he’d been crushing on for well over a year with a maine-coon sleeping atop his unruly mop of ebony hair.

“So, umm… where d’you want to go after here?” the azure-eyed teen asked in an act of misdirection; “it, ugh, it’s still quite early, isn’t it?”

Blinking (and aww~! Was that a blush he could see?), the shorter male offered a careful shrug (there was a tabby scampering up his shirt and aiming to make a perch for herself there); “we… can go back to my place and watch TV, you know, if you want?”

Trying his best not to look owlish (because this was a big, huge step in the right direction, wasn’t it? He and the others had been sneakily doing their damnedest to visit the quiet teen’s home for months; he’d always had an excuse before now, hadn’t he?), Oboro smiled excitedly; “yeah, yeah that’d be great~!” agreed. “Oh, umm… your folks won’t mind, you know, you coming home with someone they haven’t met? Heh~! Not that they won’t know about me and the others since we’ve had a few trips to the Principal’s office together, ah-hahaa~!” he floundered awkwardly.

sh*t.

Now that he’d thought about it, he’d never really asked the other hero-trainee about his family, had he? After a few short answers, shrugs and the other teen starting up a fresh line of conversation, both he and their other best friends had decided to drop their lines of inquiry in the hopes that Shouta would tell them one day.

However, now he was actually faced with the prospect of meeting them (Hizashi and Nemuri were going to be so jealous~!), the ivory haired high-schooler was starting to (panic, worry, anxiously second guess himself) wonder about them…

Did his love-interest talk to his folks about school, the troubles with Sensoji, his progress, his friends?

This date?

Or… was he in a similar situation to him with one parent at home and the other over-seas or elsewhere in Japan?

Were they together or divorced?

Did he have a step-family?

Did anyone else in his family, step or otherwise, have quirks?

Were they heroes or civilians?

Did they look like Shouta?

Were they also prone to, dare he say it, pessimism?

Double sh*t~!

Heh, some boyfriend he was shaping up to be…

“That won’t be a problem” the other assured, those words effortlessly cutting through Oboro’s musings as his bangs fanned over his eyes whilst he leaned over the purring quartet of calico-kitties languishing in the pleasure of his expert touches, their little, fluffy bodies sprawled in his lap.

The cloud-quirk wielder didn’t envy them, no sir…

“Oh, well, if you’re sure~!” he chirped back; “then yeah, yeah that’d be great~!”

Ahh, if only he hadn’t been so thrilled, if only he hadn’t been so caught up in how he’d introduce himself to (what he’d assumed to be) Mr and Mrs Aizawa (because he wanted to make a good impression) then maybe he would have noticed the sadness lining his potential lover’s face…

~*~

When they’d hopped off of the bus (and now it was no wonder that they so rarely saw Shouta walk either to or from UA; this place was very much on the outskirts of anywhere he’d ever ventured in Musutafu and, if his mom had known where they were, she wouldn’t have been pleased), the older teen had tried his best not to look too stunned.

“Wow… ugh, I’ve never been this close to the entertainment district before” he tried to laugh, his hands clasped behind his head as they walked down the cracked pavements, the few working streetlights around them humming and flickering; so somewhere, he knew, the sun was definitely setting but with all the ancient, gloomy sky-rises towering over them, it was hard to tell.

“I’ll call you a taxi later” the shorter boy offered, his lips trying to pull a smile; “unless you want to ride a cloud home?” he furthered with a small shrug: “I wouldn’t recommend walking back to the bus-stop if we’re hanging out until late” he added whilst gesturing at the darkened alleyways and the few people skulking about.

“O-oh?” he tried, his tone still upbeat as he glared at a group of men loitering near a dimly lit Seven-Eleven, two of them snigg*ring and pointing at them; “well, if you’re sure, I’ll nimbus my way back home” he assured, his worry spiking a little with anger as they rounded a corner and walked into the unattended lobby of a relatively small apartment complex.

Jesus…

What in the world were Shouta’s parents (parent, maybe?) thinking when they chose to settle here?

They couldn’t be so short of money if they were sending their (what he assumed to be) only child to a school like UA; unless they were entertainers?

Oh sh*t!

Maybe that was why his long-time crush didn’t talk about them at all?

Hell, Nemuri would be thrilled, of course, since she clearly had no inhibitions (one of her strongest qualities, they all agreed) but maybe his potential boyfriend was embarrassed?

Hmm…

“Here we are.”

Blinking (they’d walked up the graffiti peppered stairway (wow, he’d been really stuck in his ponderings if they’d made up five flights without him noticing), Oboro felt the smile drop completely off of his face as the slighter male jammed his keys into three different locks.

The words “freak-show”, “loser” and “this bitch bites” had been painted across his doorway.

“O-oi” he breathed; “what is…”

“Heh, just some of the kids from upstairs” he shrugged uncaringly; “it’s nothing to bother my landlord about” he assured: “they like to decorate the place and have a special fondness for me” he chuckled before pushing the barrier open and flicking on the lights…

To a place that was just a bit bigger than his bedroom…

Holy sh*t~!

“You want a drink? I got tea, coffee, soda?” he offered as he walked in, his boots quickly unlaced and popped atop a small shoe-caddy, his socked feet padding down the linoleum flooring; “no gatorade though, I’m afraid…”

Blinking owlishly (because his brain just couldn’t process what he was seeing), Oboro stumbled his way through removing his own sneakers before fumbling in his bag for the slippers he always carried with him (his mother had told him it was good-manners, anyway), his brows reaching for his hairline as he looked around at…

Nothing, really…

“You don’t have to stay, you know…”

Stiffening instantly (sh*t, how rude was he being~?!), the taller teen was waving his arms around almost comically; “wha~?! N-no, no I umm… sorry” he stumbled sheepishly: “I just… I mean, when you said there wasn’t any gatorade” he tried to laugh and, to his relief, the other actually smiled a little. “Well, I’ll just have to get a case or two sent over here for you to keep in stock for me” he smoothed before walking the small distance from the (now closed and self-locking) door to the small strip of kitchen where Shouta was stood by the fridge, a pair of budget-brand cola-bottles in his hands.

“Sorry if this is… weird” the raven-haired boy shrugged as they walked towards a futon rolled into a couch-shape, the older clocking the small bathroom to his right and wardrobe to the left, the silly cat-clock he’d given to the eraser-quirk user grinning at him on the otherwise blank, white wall; “I just…”

“Hey” he cut in, his shoulder giving him a gentle nudge; “there’s nothing weird about this” he assured, his smile bright: “I was just… surprised, is all” he admitted as they sat, a decent sized, flat-screen TV blinking to life on the wall across from them whilst the sheer, beige curtains at the end of the room fluttered a little.

Upon closer inspection, the window wasn’t open, it was cracked.

sh*t…

How did the other cope with that in the winter?

“So, umm… if, you know, it’s not too personal to ask” he said after a beat, some weird game-showing playing in the background; “how long have you been living here?”

“Since I was fourteen” the younger replied, his dark eyes staring at the bright colours on the screen after he took a sip of the actually quite bitter (highly caffeinated; Jesus) soda; “to cut a long story short, my parents died when I was a little, the whole adoption thing didn’t work out and, after my seventh foster-family lost interest I was sent to a Government funded care-facility for kids with quirks” he said. “Then, after I caught the eye of someone pretty high-up, they got me tutors, started my provisional training and when I was old enough to take care of myself, they moved me here so I could attend UA on a full scholarship” he revealed.

“O-oh?” the other tried, his body sinking into the pillows (actual pillows his brain noted, the same ones the other used to sleep with); “well, that confirms it” he said aloud.

“Confirms what?” Shouta blinked, his eyes narrowing.

“That you’re even more incredible than I’d previously thought” Oboro grinned, a wink flashing the other’s way and making him blush; “I mean… a full scholarship and a homemaker? Heh, is there anything you can’t do?”

“I-i-idiot~!” the other sputtered, his adorable face pinked and scrunched up cutely; “it’s nothing to brag about…”

“Tch, says you~!” the older snickered; “man, I can barely use the toaster unsupervised~!” he laughed, his hand reaching for his phone to proudly show the photos his little brother had taken (and sent to him afterwards) of him desperately trying to put out the flames shooting out of the damned thing with his mom yelling in the background.

“Wait but… but how you… oh my God! Did you try to shove one of those bagel things your dad brings home into the toaster without cutting it in half first?”

Laughing all the louder, the broader male nodded whilst his fingers continued to scroll through the images, each one showing the situation escalating until he flipped the electric switch and submerged the appliance in a cloud, the resulting smoke-choked steam setting off the fire-alarm and filling the kitchen with haze. “I… I thought it’d fit~!” he defended; “the stupid thing let me pull the lever down and everything~!”

“You score roughly the same grades as me” Shouta huffed, his face disbelieving; “how did you think that would work?”

“Tch, I wasn’t thinking, obviously” the older snorted and, from there? Their conversation was as natural as it ever was…

Chapter 4: A first kiss to remember, an assembly to forget...

Chapter Text

Sadly, ten pm (his mother was working the early morning shift on Sunday and so he’d been drafted to baby-sit his kid brother, meaning that he was needed to supervise the energetic seven-year-old sooner rather than later as the dedicated nurse prepared for her vital service) rolled around all too quickly…

“So, ugh… you… you wanna do this” Oboro smiled, his cheeks pinked as he gestured between them, his form stood next to the now wide-open window, a nimbus floating patiently outside for his use; “again?”

“Sure” Shouta grinned, his eyes suddenly finding a spot to the right of the other’s head incredibly interesting; “I’ll ugh… get some snacks in, or something… unless, umm, you want to go somewhere else?”

“Heh~! Anywhere’ll be great!” the broader replied, an easy shrug rolling across his shoulders; “I’ll ugh, text you tomorrow and we, you know, can make plans” he offered, his gaze flitting from his crush (who he was eating up more of his affections by the minute) to the window: “well, I… I guess I should be on my w—uummph~!”

‘OhmyGod~!OhmyGod~!OhmyGod~!’ the cloud-quirk user’s brain gushed because, if he hadn’t been there to witness it, if he wasn’t stood here, enjoying it, then he would never have believed that the shy, often retiring teen was kissing him in his living-room-come-bedroom~!

And… wow…

Not that he had anyone to compare Shouta with (especially since his first kiss had been an accident at pre-school where he and his best friend at the time had tripped over thanks to untied shoelaces, their faces smushing together in a parody of the gesture) but this was pretty incredible.

No tongues (heh, it was probably too early for that and, if he was completely honest? He wasn’t quite sure how to do that; he’d have to quiz Nemuri before school on Monday); however, the feel of the eraser quirk user’s lips against his own felt phenomenal…

It was a shame that it had to end, really…

“Umm…” he breathed, his hands having (somehow) ended up on the shorter teen’s hips; “t-that… that was possibly the best thing ever” he admitted, his grin dopey and eyes shining whilst the raven-haired boy shakily retracted his hands from where they’d cupped Oboro’s face.

“Y-yeah?”

“Hell yeah” the broader murmured; “a-although, umm… maybe we should try it again, you know? Just to be sure?”

And, curfew be damned, having for or five more before he’d been literally shoved to the window was totally worth any scolding he might get from his Ma.

If he’d whooped so loudly to the darkened, star-spackled sky that a few police officers who could also fly (in one way or another; the woman on the hover-board her quirk had manifested seemed particularly displeased) thanks to their gifts had almost given him a written warning, well?

He couldn’t have cared less…

~*~

“So… how did it go?!”

“Did you and Nemuri play jan-ken-pon to decide who was calling who this morning?”

Usually, Aizawa Shouta prioritised being rational above most things. He lived frugally (just because there was no other way at the moment didn’t mean anything; he was pretty sure that even if he somehow won the lottery his views on clutter wouldn’t change), ate three square meals (and rarely snacked), showered every other day and did his laundry twice a week.

Therefore, dating should be something he’d turn his nose up at…

He shouldn’t have allowed the prospect of Oboro dying—

No, no he couldn’t bring himself to think like that…

Nor could he bring himself to feel dispassionate about the (deeper) relationship they were attempting to build.

Heh…

Perhaps all of those cheesy, American romance movies he was forced to watch at Yamada’s house had a point, after all; love defied logic…

“W-what?! N-no…”

“Then why can I hear her talking in the background, hmm?”

Because logic would have told him not to pick up the phone now pressed against his ear (who even called someone these days? Hadn’t Gen Z killed voice-to-voice interactions and shouldn’t Hizashi, the tech and pop-culture lover that he was, know that?) whilst he sorted out his soiled clothes ready for his walk to the laundromat.

Logic would have insisted that he kept his mouth shut; tch, at least he and his (partner, boyfriend, significant other? It was too early to label such things, wasn’t it?) crush had decided between them (via text message, like civilised people) that they were okay talking to their (nosy, relentless… caring) friends about the evening they’d shared.

And what an evening it’d been.

sh*t…

He couldn’t believe that he’d been brave enough, bold enough to take the first step…

That he (him, of all people!) had dared to kiss first…

It… it’d had been…

Wonderful…

“Wha~?! You can hear… umm, I mean… no… no she’s not sat in my bedroom’s balcony with the box of donuts she brought over for breakfast~!” the voice-quirk user tried to deny, his good-nature and sunny-disposition rarely allowing him to lie.

Heh, poor guy…

“Uh-huh?” he deadpanned; “well, if you must know it… it went really well…”

“Wwwaahhhh~! I knew it~!!” the slightly older teen crowed, his volume causing Shouta to wince, his hands whipping up and away from the blue of his gym-wear to move the device to a safe distance; “oohhh~! I’m so syked for you guys~!” the blonde continued, clearly (still) unaware that his excitement could destroy their phones.

Tch.

Taking out a quirk-related insurance policy on his had been one of the smartest things he’d ever done…

~*~

Monday morning (the worst of all mornings according to most people, the roof-top quartet included) was upon them once more and, as he walked the relatively long distance from his bus-stop to UA, the capture-weapon wielder found his brows rising at the sight he found a few metres away from the school’s gates.

What the hell were TV crews doing here?

Frowning lightly (because he hated crowds more than he hated most things), he pulled his phone free from his blazer’s pocket, his eyes narrowed at the newsfeed and the stream of excited messages blowing up his home-screen.

“You’ve got to be kidding me” he breathed, his shoulders slumping.

Why would Yagi Toshinori, UAs most beloved son, be returning to the Academy for a surprise visit, let alone to give (sh*t, he could feel his will to remain conscious dying with every new, stupid gif his friends sent about their love for All Might) an assembly?

f*ck.

He’d booked one of the smaller gyms for both of his free periods this morning (because he would not be a liability; his fighting style was now ranked A+ by Miyagi Sensei, the capture-weapon he’d developed with the R&D team couldn’t be better and his stamina was streets ahead of most 2A students but he couldn’t afford to relax), hadn’t he?

Did he really have to miss that time so he could watch everyone swoon over the heartthrob who’d sworn to one day become the Symbol of Peace?

God…

They’d be lucky to fit even just the hero-course students into the biggest training hall with an ego that size filling up the place…

~*~

Oboro should have been actively listening to one of his idol’s thrilling exploits but, if he was perfectly honest? His eyes kept straying to Shouta who was sat (adorably slumped) next to him on the sparsely populated backrow of seats that lined the small hall the student council used as their HQ; oh… did he have to pout so cutely?

“— the Oklahoma Smash, of course, is a favourite of mine~! It was inspired by the literally breath-taking tornadoes often seen in that part of the States—”

Sure, this was probably a once in a life-time opportunity to see the man, the myth, the legend that was Yagi Toshinori; however, after listening to the shorter teen lament about their valuable time being wasted by a guy who’d probably been forced to show up and play to the cameras by his management team, he couldn’t help but agree.

Now that he truly listened to their senpai, the flashy-smiles, almost comical poses and bravado was a little… much…

“— the Cactus-Bandit was definitely a prickly adversary~! Ha~! I also had many a close-shave with Wild Haired Tamaka and her Crazy Cutting Crew—"

Actually… this was probably where the age-old adage ‘you should never meet your heroes’ came from…

“— I AM HERE~!!”

“I AM HERE~!!”

Wow…

The rest of the class seemed to be eating it up, didn’t they? He’d never seen their usually prim Valedictorian shout so loudly and… was Sensoji in tears?

Huh…

“Thank you Class 2A~!” an incredibly officious lady (dressed in a stylish, western-suit, her crimson hair tied into a tight, high bun) then called as the blonde, man-mountain was led from the room amidst a sea of flashing smart-phones. “All Might will be available during your lunch-time to sign autographs and pose for official photos so have your Year Books and official merchandise at the ready~!!”

Really?

“God, I’m glad that’s over…”

Blinking, his azure eyes slipping to Shouta (who was doing the slow, deliberate, feline stretch of his upper body that had Oboro imagining naughty things he shouldn’t), the cloud-quirk user chuckled, the sound almost lost to the cries of adulation and squeals of excitement bouncing around the front of the room.

Sensei shouting and barking for them to settle down was drowned out completely, though.

“That was… really cringey, wasn’t it?”

“Heh, you’re telling me” the shorter yawned as they stood; “you got study-hall next?”

“Yeah” he replied, his smile broadening; “you ugh, you wanna join me?”

“I’m gonna hit the gym” the raven-haired teen replied; “since Nemuri brought donuts today, I better get my work-out in or I’ll become all flabby and you’ll not want to be my—”

“Ahh~! Aizawa~! There you are.”

Blinking, their flirting (sadly) slamming to a halt, the pair (begrudgingly) looked away from each other to see their homeroom teacher (the rest of 2A mostly having left for whatever arranged for second-period they’d scheduled; coming into UA two days a week alongside their internships was a God send when it came to timetabling). Those keen eyes of his were sharp and lit with an intensity they didn’t usually hold whilst he stalked towards them, his grin a razored-line and trench-coat fluttering.

“Can I help you, sir?” the demure boy replied, his tone more respectful than it was when he addressed any other sensei (for the man before them had fought long and hard to keep him in the top class regardless of his quirk being so… un-flashy).

“You need to come with me” the older of the three addressed before that gaze landed on the older boy questioningly; “Shirakumo? Is there any reason why you’re still stood here when you have a week’s worth of lessons to catch up on?”

“Eh? Oh… no, sir~!” he chirped, his clouds rising to lift him into a floating, lotus position; “I’ll head on to the library right away~!” he added before, with a wink, he called: “see you at lunch, Shou~!” and flew from the room, his hands already grabbing for his phone to alert Nemuri and Hizashi to their friend being singled out for some reason.

The last time that’d happened, the eraser-quirk wielder had been given a disciplinary over some (thoroughly made up and ridiculous) complaint created by a peevish Sensoji and, after they’d learned about it, the other three of the rooftop quartet and sworn that their quietest, future Agency team-mate wouldn’t have to suffer anything like that ever again…

Chapter 5: The Spotlight...

Chapter Text

Straightening his shoulders (if anyone other than his Sensei or His Purple Highness had asked him to look more composed he would have slumped further, just to piss them off), Shouta found his eyebrows lifting in surprise when, instead of walking to Kōchō Abe’s office (the Principle had narrowed her snake-like eyes at him that morning) they approached the teachers’ lounge.

Hmm…

“Ahh~ here he is, one of our fastest rising s-s-stars of Class 2A~”

Blinking (and almost tempted to look behind himself), his headteacher rose from where she’d been sitting in the common area, her fanged smile pleased as she gestured him forward to join…

‘What the f*ck?’

None other than All Might, three of his minders, Vice-Principle Aoki and one of the Government sponsors who checked in with him every so often.

Tch, he’d not seen the bear-headed man since his last ‘parent-teacher’ conference, so what could he possibly want with him now?

“Aizawa-kun, there’s no need to look s-s-so nervous~” the blonde-haired school leader gushed in a sickeningly sweet tone she had never used with him before (sh*t; she wanted something and it looked as thought it was going to be his job to get it for her) whilst her scaly hands landed on his shoulders in a friendly pat. “Now come over here and take a s-s-seat, won’t you?” she hissed, her forked tongue flicking out of an otherwise human-looking face.

Nodding, the student sat where he was told, his sense of unease building by the second.

He did not like where this was going…

“Well, well~! It’s not everyday that I get to meet someone so young and capable~!” Yagi Toshinori began, his smile so bright that Shouta was sure his corneas had been scorched; “that was quite the feat of heroics you displayed against that mammoth of a villain, wouldn’t you say~?”

Eh?

Had they really brought him in here to talk about what happed the other week?

“Umm…”

“Ahh~ there’s no need to be nervous, my young friend~!” the legendary Pro assured; “we’re all heroes here, after all~!”

“Aizawa-kun is quite shy by nature” the grizzly-faced Official responded for him, causing his eyes to narrow; “he’s remarkably studious though and the commentary from his internship mentor couldn’t be better…”

And just how the f*ck did that bastard know such things?

“… that and I believe that you’ll find him markedly proficient in hand-to-hand combat, strategic planning and he’s developed a weapon quite unlike any other…”

Tch, the manager at his care-home had been right; ‘once the Government owns you, kid, you’ll never know privacy again’ and, up until now, he’d not even thought about it.

“Oh yes~! What did you call it? A capturing weapon?” the tanned blonde mused; “why, it certainly sounds ingenious and must take a great deal of skill to use~!” he boomed (God; and he’d thought that Hizashi was loud): “I greatly look forward to seeing you demonstrate how it works~!”

Feeling himself tense, Shouta slanted his dead-eyed stare from his Sensei (who seemed sheepish and potentially apologetic), to his sponsor (grinning too brightly for someone with such a calculating look in his beady eyes) and his Principal (who gave him the stink-eye right back).

“If I may” he began slowly, his frown darkening and gaze locked with the (most people found quite frightening) headteacher; “why am I here, exactly, Kōchō?”

Sharpening her smile in a way that was (supposedly) intimidating, Abe Hebiko leaned towards him whilst the Vice Principle and All Might’s minders flinched; “why, Aizawa-kun, once Kuma-san made us aware of how s-s-sensational your victory was, Yagi-sama wanted to meet you and we, as your care-givers, couldn’t be more proud~” she gushed.

Wait a second…

What?

“I don’t understand” he said, his caustic glare returning to the bear-headed man; “how could you know what happened that day, I…”

“Maa~ Shouta-kun~” the tall, broad and chortling talent-scout cut in; “there’s CCTV everywhere these days~” he laughed, his hands pulling a tablet out of his already opened briefcase then, a few finger-taps later, the youngest of those assembled watched the (hastily edited from a range of sources, one or two being shaky smart-phone recordings) footage.

Heh… he hadn’t realised that he’d managed to get up so high to launch that final blow…

“Ahh~ it gets more impressive every time I watch it~” his Principal stated whilst, to his left, he heard his homeroom teacher shift in his seat.

“Aizawa” he breathed; “this… why didn’t you tell me all of the details?”

“What’s there to tell?” he asked, his tone just as baffled as he felt; “Garvey needed to be stopped, there was no one else to help and I knew, if I could just plug up his mouth, then the threat to life would be reduced and he’d hopefully go down” he said, his face regarding one of the few adults he truly respected: “that’s what happened…”

“That villain was over thirty-feet tall, Shouta… he’d absorbed Yamada and Sensoji’s quirks, he… he’d taken out five Pro Heroes with years of combat experience and your mentor was down for the count even before Oboro was…”

“W-well yes, but…” he tried, his hands lifting in surrender as the teacher regarded him worriedly; sh*t, he did not want to be sent to the counsellor again…

Talking about (he shuddered) feelings had never been his style…

“Aahahahaa~! I love what you say here~! ‘Have a taste of your own medicine~!’ Yes! What an excellent quip to make~!” Yagi crowed, his handsome face ecstatic whilst he took the tablet from Kuma-san to veritably coo over…

“We will be adding this to your extra-credit score, of course, and we may need to find you a more… reputable internship placement, you know, to match this skill-set you’ve been hiding?” the Vice Principle mused, his muscular arms folding over his actual barrelled chest.

“W-what, but I…”

“Oh~ you’re such a modest young man~ and sensitive too~ look at you taking care of your friend~” the same woman from the assembly tittered; “and I’m sure you’d be quite the little charmer with a better hair-cut and smile, hmm?”

What?

What~?!

“Hey!” he heard himself say, his form suddenly standing; “you don’t get to dictate to me just because I’m an orphan with no family to ask consent from” he all but spat, his eyes flashing red as his hair stood on end: “His Purple Highness has been nothing but fair and kind to me” he furthered. “So you can take your more reputable agencies and keep them” he ground out; “and I’m not a performing monkey, either” he stated, the suit wearing woman gasping when he levelled a glower Nemuri fondly called ‘certain death’ at her.

“Aizawa~! Control yourself this instant~!” the snake-quirked school leader snapped; “you’re being appallingly rude~!”

“And you’re treating me like a thing instead of a person” he retorted, his eyes resuming their usual colour; “I’m supposed to be training” he reminded bitterly: “not showing off to someone who sees me as something to study” he snapped before, a little prayer leaving his mind whilst he regarded his homeroom teacher. “Sensei? May I leave now, please?”

“Aizawa! You will sit—”

“Of course, Shouta” the head-band wearing teacher nodded, his own eyes looking to his senior with distain; “it was wrong of us to spring such a meeting on you” he agreed, the snake-woman’s jaw clenching loudly at his words: “go to the gym and then I’ll see you in third period.”

Nodding (and quickly turning to bow at (a pretty stunned looking) All Might and his entourage, a quiet “I’m sorry for my outburst, please forgive me” leaving his lips), the student all but fled the room, his throat tight and eyes burning.

Tch, and to think that people wondered why he didn’t want to be noticed, to be in that all important spotlight that drove so many to apply for hero-courses…

It was embarrassing…

It was disquieting…

It was demeaning…

It stripped you of your identity and, when you only had who you were as a singular person in this world full of families and connections, that was a price simply too high for him to pay…

~*~

Half an hour later saw him feeling a great deal better.

‘One… two… three… left… left… right…’

As he’d hoped, the (small but serviceable) gym was still empty; within minutes he’d warmed up and started practicing roping, swinging and releasing multiple targets (because he should have been able to move some of those nursery kids to safely; Oboro shouldn’t have had to shoulder the responsibility alone) quite successfully.

‘Okay… let’s try… something bigger…’

The boulder (a chunk of the same building that’d almost (stop-thinking-about-it-stop-thinking-about-it!) squashed his partner) he’d used to stop Garvey had been fairly large and, if the strained shoulder he’d suffered was anything to go by, pretty damned heavy but some people he’d need to save could and would be heavier.

The villains he was bound to encounter wouldn’t exactly be made out of paper, either.

Although, hadn’t Hizashi shown him a video where an origami quirk user had actually folded himself into a kite to flee the scene of a robbery?

Hmm…

“My goodness, young Aizawa~! That’s quite the arm you have there~!”

Baulking, the booming noise flooding the otherwise silent room causing him to miscalculate his trajectory, Shouta found the ‘person’ (a life-sized dummy with a scary face that some student or another had added) he’d been intending to swing and land on its feet on a podium he’d designated as a safe zone instead launched into the ceiling…

“Oh my~!”

Where it wedged itself into the ply-wood nailed up there, a few slats of it falling away.

sh*t.

There went his access privileges…

“Amazing~!”

Summoning up what little patience he had in reserves, the eraser quirk user turned his head to where All Might was standing in the doorway, his hands clapping avidly.

Oh goody, his entourage were also there, their smartphones snapping photos excitedly.

Why?

Why God?

“Do you need some help retrieving the dastardly fellow you’ve just brought to justice~?!”

“No thanks, I…”

“Well fear not, my friend, for I AM HERE~!”

Blinking, a sweat-drop or two peppering his temple, Shouta felt his messy bangs swish across his forehead as, at a speed that shouldn’t be possibly for a person without a speed-orientated quirk, the chiselled blonde had flickered to the ceiling, dislodged the dummy, placed it before him and somehow patched up the gaping hole.

Huh…

“There you go, young Aizawa~!” he smiled, those large, strong hands touching the capture-weapon he’d unravelled from the (now slinter-haired) training-figure, those impossibly blue eyes much keener and far more intelligent than he’d originally given the Westaboo* hero; “wow~! I’ve never felt anything quite like this” he admitted. “I saw you use pieces of it during that incredible fight you won but… how in the world did you cut it?” he asked whilst his super-strong fingers tested the fabric’s resilience.

“With a titanium knife” he replied, his hand reaching for the concealed sheath and brandishing the blade for the other to see.

“Heavens~!” the taller breathed, his tone impressed; “I know that it was… remiss of me earlier” he continued, their eyes meeting: “however, if you’re not opposed to it, I would very much like to spar with you” he said, another blinding smile almost making him grimace.

Sighing (he could almost feel the threatening aura of the school’s Kōchō radiating from wherever she was undoubtably watching him), his dark gaze flitted to the clock (there was only twenty minutes of second period left) above them; “sure” he replied, his hands tugging his weapon free before applying his goggles. “Just don’t punch me through a wall or anything, okay? I’m not as tough as I look” he huffed as he turned and walked to the other side of the arena.

However, if he’d just taken a moment to review the Pro Hero from over his shoulder, he might have noticed something akin to an interest beyond a good work-out alighting that pleased smile…

Chapter 6: Did that really happen?

Chapter Text

Oboro, Hizashi and Nemuri weren’t exactly known for being quiet, orderly and restrained (that was Shouta’s department) however, as they raced around UA, the fourth member of their roof-top quartet nowhere to be seen regardless of who they asked and how loudly they shouted his name, their energy levels and volume were doubling.

“He’s not in any of the gyms~!”

“He’s still not answered my messages~!”

“The class Rep hasn’t seen him, either~!

God.

Where could he be?

Surely, they couldn’t have expelled him?

No, no that would be ridiculous…

Wouldn’t it?

“sh*t, guys, third period” the tallest of their group texted, his eyes narrowing at the alarm blaring out of his smartphone; “let’s hope that he’s somehow passed us and made it there” he advised whilst spinning on his heel to sprint back the way he’d come from.

Damn it, Nemuri had been right, he should have challenged their Sensei, he should have at least asked to go with them or walk with them to wherever they were going.

Not that Shouta couldn’t handle himself (he’d taken on older students twice his size and the cloud quirk user could testify that living where he did and not really minding it was a strength that a house-pet like him didn’t have) but…

But…

He’d always seemed so solitary, so quiet and alone before he and Hizashi had collided with him.

No one should have to go through anything alone unless they wanted to and, based on their growing friendship (and relationship, his hind-brain was quick to brag), the raven-haired teen liked being around them, enjoyed their company and had even laughed (beautiful) and smiled (gorgeous) right along with them and their antics.

So, to think that he might be somewhere having to endure another needless disciplinary or worse, well…

It just didn’t sit right with him…

~*~

“Safe~!!”

Bowing at the laughter rippling around the room as they skidded into it, the three friends grinned widely at their long-suffering homeroom teacher, his right brow quirking at them as the bell which signalled the start of class sounded.

“Hurry up and take you seats” he grunted whilst standing and approaching the board, the whispered musings about how long the queues to see All Might would be, whether parents had been able to drop off things to be signed and how much they’d spend on new merchandise floating up behind him as he started to write.

Tch, they didn’t pay him enough to teach over-excited teenagers when a celebrity came to call…

“Ano… Sensei?”

Blinking, his head turning to regard the three almost later comers; “um?”

“Where is Aizawa-kun?” Nemuri asked, her form leaning against his desk whilst Hizashi and Oboro had stuck their heads through the classroom’s backdoor to check the corridor.

“He’s in the Nurses office…”

“What~!”

“Is he okay~!?”

“What happened~!?”

“Oi” their teacher snapped, a flicker of electricity zipping around his form; “the lesson has started” he reminded: “now sit down and settle yourselves” he huffed, his arms folding when the boys hesitated, the tallest of the two looking as though he’d leap out of the room at a moment’s notice. “As good of you as it is to worry, your friend is fine” he assured; “there was an… incident in the gym…”

“Tch, what? Did trip over that stupid scarf-thing and face plant into the floor again?” Sensoji snickered, a few of his friends giggling alongside him.

“Hey, that’s…”

“Shirakumo” the adult grunted; “sit down” he said, his tone broking no argument.

Scowling, the ivory haired teen begrudgingly moved, his eyes narrowed at the blast quirk user whilst Hizashi and his girlfriend offered the stocky boy death glares of their own.

“And, to answer your question, Sensoji” the man continued, a flicker of pride alighting his smile; “Aizawa was invited to spar with All Might during second period and accidentally dislocated his shoulder after successfully landing a punch” he replied, a mild shrug leaving him as the entire class stopped, blinked, baulked and yelled in unison.

“Eeehhhhhh~?!”

Tch.

He didn’t get paid enough to get his ear-drums blown out by loudly shouted questions, either…

~*~

Yagi Toshinori, despite appearances, wasn’t someone who was (genuinely) easily impressed…

“There you go Aizawa-kun, you’re all fixed-up~!”

However, as he’d sparred with the youth (who wasn’t that young, only ten years his junior), the artful way the other had flung his weapon to trip him, the shock he’d felt as his super-strength suddenly dwindled and the precise arch of movements the (adorably) shorter showcased had given him one hell of a work-out…

And made him smile truly for the first time in months…

“You’re lucky to have come out of that match with such minor injuries, aren’t you, hmm? You kids today are pretty tough~!”

Heh…

And whilst he watched the young man (just turned seventeen, according to his file) offer his thanks to Recovery Girl (even though he’d shuddered as the older woman had planted a kiss squarely on his cheek, the force of it almost knocking him off of the chair he’d been sat on), All Might couldn’t help but feel…

“Thank you, ma’am... and yeah, he’s just as solid as he looks.”

A kind of kinship forming… especially when the younger man had blushed so cutely at the praise he’d given him, those lily-white features colouring his favourite shade of scarlet, too, when he’d offered to carry him to the medical-facility.

Aww~! It’d been a true shame when the other rejected the idea in earnest, his hands warding him off with wide, wild gesticulations.

He’d almost been too cute~!

“Well, young Aizawa” he grinned as the student stood and actively tested out the joint he’d bruised; “I must thank you again for a truly thrilling session~!” he gushed: “it is really quite a shame that you’re so… settled at the Purple Revolution Agency” he hedged. “My team and I would be more than happy to host you~!”

For surely nurturing such a talent was…

“Thank you, Yagi-san… but I meant what I said earlier…”

W-what?

“H-ha~! Really?” he couldn’t help but ask because, in this school alone, more than one hundred and fifty students had applied to him for their internship placements with only one person being successfully short-listed for their third-year studies…

“Look” the eraser quirk user tried, his expression clearly struggling not to scowl (which had created a pout; how lovely~!); “I really appreciate the offer, I do” he furthered, his words honest even as he could feel his manager shake her head behind him: “but the kind of Pro Hero you are is… not the kind of Pro hero I want to be” he said, his eyes looking to the nearest window. “My quirk is pretty useful and, now that I’m building my fighting skills up, I think I can do a lot of good” he explained; “but… I’m not built for the kind of huge battles you take part in and, well? It’s the little guy who I want to fight for… you know?”

Blinking owlishly, Toshinori suddenly felt his disappointment give way to something he very rarely felt.

Humility…

Here this Pro in the making was, his talents vast, his potential huge and, instead of looking for sponsors, money and fame, he wanted to take care of the people who their (usually very stretched) police forces struggled to aid, his interest purely in doing good and making a difference to those who many would overlook.

Wow…

“Aizawa-kun” he breathed; “I… I think that a noble goal, truly” he admitted, the usually pomp and flare he’d come to use even in everyday life quietening a touch: “but please, should you ever need anything” he tried, his hands fishing out his phone.

“Don’t ever hesitate to call me…”

~*~

Lunch time could not have rolled around soon enough for the majority of students who, at the conclusion of third period, had sprinted, flew and bounced their way to the canteen screaming but, for the three quarters of the rooftop quartet, their legs had marched them straight up the stairs to their favourite spot.

A spot occupied by none other than Shouta and…

“O-oh my God~!” Nemuri and Hizashi squealed in unison, hearts virtually pouring out of their eyes; “A-A-A-ll Might-o~!!”

“Greetings young heroes in the making~!” the blonde called, his body striking a pose on impulse; “it is a sincere pleasure to meet you all~!”

Grinning and nodding his thanks (whilst allowing the excited combo to throw themselves) at the legendary man, Oboro instead skirted around them to stand next to the raven-haired teen, his shoulder carefully nudging the other’s; “seems like you’ve had quite the morning, huh?”

“Heh, you could say that” the eraser quirk wielder chuckled, his body leaning against him with a yawn; “how was study-hall?”

“Really Shou, really? You’re not gonna…”

“Ahh~! And who might this be, hmm?”

Blinking, the older the two teens leaning against the roof-top’s railings found his smile widening (because how could he not? Yagi Toshinori wanted to meet him~!), his hand extending to shake that of the Pro’s; “I… I… umm… ugh…” he floundered in an uncharacteristic bout of shyness.

“This is Shirakumo Oboro” the shorter boy introduced, his cheeks pinking a little as he looked into azure eyes; “he’s my partner…”

Oh…

Oh wow…

“Shouta” he breathed, his tone reverent, the sound of Hizashi and Nemuri squealing a suitable sound track for such a touching moment…

“Ahh~! Ah… I… I see~!” the (impossibly) broad, towering figure chuckled, his hand’s grip tightening a touch without meaning to; “Aizawa-kun has told me a great deal about all of you, however, it is a true delight to meet you in person, Shirakumo-kun~”

“Y-yeah, yeah you too, sir” he heard himself replying, his hand suddenly free; “I…”

“Well, I had better get going, hadn’t I~?” the Pro cut in, his smile razor sharp; “see you later~!”

Then, with barely a flicker of his power, All Might propelled himself into the air in a woosh of movement, all four of them left blinking in his wake whilst a bellow of “I AM HERE~!” heralded further cheers from where many of their class-mates were gathered outside, all desperately searching for “Yagi-senpai~!”

“Huh…” Hizashi grinned lopsidedly whilst he and his girlfriend moved to join them, their expressions dazed; “did… did that really happen?”

Chapter 7: Festival Fun~!

Chapter Text

One box of donuts later, the four best friends had not only started to devise the core-basis for the Pro Hero Agency they were going to build together but had started to throw in ideas about their HQ whilst, all around them, the air was still reverberating with the sounds of every year group and class desperately trying to get their All Might fix…

“Guys, you know that I love cats almost as much as you do despite my allergies” the blonde of their group began, his sparkly gel-pen tapping on the paper spread out between them; “but how are we supposed to run an animal shelter and fight crime, hmm?”

“Tch, that’s what having volunteers is for” Shouta snorted, his eyes rolling as though it were obvious; “we want to be a part of the community, don’t we?”

“Well… yeah” Hizashi agreed; “I’m just saying that this should be, you know, something that we build up over-time…”

“But Sushi will be so lonely as a singular mascot” Nemuri pouted adorably; “that and, although I only have eyes for you, my pretty co*ckatoo, all I’d have to do is ask nicely and we’d have an army of helpers” she smirked with a wink, the gesture causing the voice-quirk user to melt whilst their tallest friend snickered.

“See, that’s settled” the raven-haired teen shrugged; “so, all in favour?”

“Aye~!”

“Noted~!” the cloud-haired student tittered, his hands moving to approve the sketch they were working on; “and speaking of voting for things, I know that it won’t happen until the end of the school year but, May isn’t going to last forever” he mused, his pencil drumming against the page, a playful smile spreading his lips.

“So, what d’you wanna do for the end of summer school festival, hmm?”

~*~

Looking back, Oboro had been right and, after numerous successful battles, Eraser-Cloud (as they’d been so dubbed by local media and virtually everyone they knew) were flying high with excellent grades, a 98% mission success rate (virtually unheard of for second year students) and July was soon upon them.

And now, the school festival just a week away (with rehearsals and try-outs of activities happening today) and their supplies at the ready, all four members of the rooftop quartet were preparing their stall alongside the other groups formed across the Hero, General Studies and Business classes.

After three months of gaining experience, taking exams, fighting villains and helping civilians to cope with natural disasters, the thought of just enjoying themselves and providing entertainment for others seemed like the perfect way to see out their second year.

Even Shouta, who’d only ever rarely smiled before summer, was humming to Hizashi’s latest beat.

Although, if the way he and a certain cloud-quirk user kept looking at each other was anything to go by, then their growing (stronger by the day) relationship was definitely a factor, too…

“Pfft, what? You guys are doing a karaoke bar? Tch, well that’s stupid” Sensoji had sneered whilst he and his crew (the ‘Wrecking Bois’ or something; none of them had bothered to remember) had sauntered by with all the trimmings for their ‘Super Spicy Hot-Hot Curry Challenge’ stall, three of them carrying huge bags of plush toys as prizes.

“Thanks for your support~!” Nemuri called after them; “be careful not to burn yourselves~!” she furthered, her smile thoroughly devious as she flashed a bare-shoulder by shucking down the short yukata she was wearing, a laugh-snort rippling through her as all five boys tripped and stumbled, their faces reddened and embarrassed.

Having her three best friends standing behind her, each teen also dressed in traditional, light-weight formal wear (her mom had very kindly sewn them all matching yukata with a navy-blue fabric denoting white clouds, scarves, microphones and a full-moon) also reminded any of the pervier students not to get their hopes up.

Ahh~! Not that she needed it but it was great to have people in her corner, ready to fight for her, wasn’t it?

“Man… where did they get such great Kitty-Kitty merch from, huh?” Oboro asked, his face peppered with longing as he narrowed his gaze from the rag-tag group of gruff boys to the bespoke fare they carried; “those things usually cost a fortune~”

“I think Tanaka’s dad works for the company” Shouta shrugged, his own eyes trailing after the premium grade plushies; he knew it was silly and it went against all logic, but sometimes his small futon was a lonely place and sure, he understood that the few cat-themed toys he’d allowed himself were silly, however…

It… it was always nice to have something to cuddle with since he and his boyfriend weren’t at that stage just yet and those specific plushies were super snuggly, made adorable noises and had heated pouches you could activate in the winter.

He’d wanted one since he’d first seen them advertised on the TV in the care-home he’d lived for the majority of his life but, at 30,000.00 Yen, the model he’d set his heart on was just too expensive…

But a boy could dream, couldn’t he?

~*~

“Step right up, ladies~!! Don’t be shy~!! Present Mic can make anyone sing like an angel~!! Oh~! Yyeeaahhh~!”

Chuckling at their most confident friend’s antics (he’d shooed them off to go and enjoy themselves whilst he and Nemuri toted for business; regardless of Sensoji’s earlier sneer, lots of students (even some of the shier people) and a few teachers had chosen to try out Hizashi’s (actually amazing thanks to the amazing DJ set his uncle had loaned him and his own, natural charms) set.

“Heh, it looks like Nemuri is finally over having her kissing-booth idea nixed, huh?”

Blinking, his eyes having strayed to some of the gaming booths, Shouta chuckled his agreement, his cheeks pinking when the (still taller; God, would he be five foot five forever?) cloud quirk user laced their left and right hand together whilst they lazily walked down the promenade the stalls had created.

“Umm…”

“Oh, ugh, sorry… d’you not…” the blue-eyed teen began, his brows lifting as he moved to pull his hand away.

“N-no… no it’s” the younger baulked, his digits strengthening their grip even though he couldn’t bring himself to meet the warm smile on his partner’s face.

sh*t…

It wasn’t as though people didn’t know that they were dating but…

But this had been the first time they’d been so, well… open amongst their peers…

“You’re too cute, you know that?” Oboro teased after giving the hand he’d captured a reassuring squeeze; “just so you know, I had to snag you just now” he added, those words causing the raven-haired youth to finally look at him.

“W-what?”

“Umm-hmm” the smirking teen quietly purred out; “the adorable-police are on patrol and I couldn’t risk them bagging you, could I~?”

“I-i-idiot~!” he stuttered, his frown quivering as he tried to fight his embarrassment off with annoyance; “d-don’t say such… stupid things” he sputtered; however, if any onlooker happened to notice that this display was coupled by Shouta leaning a little further in to his boyfriend’s side then they were wise enough to keep such knowledge to themselves…

~*~

“Oi~! Shirakumo~! Aizawa~! Are you two brave enough to face this challenge, nah~?!”

They’d been wandering around for a good ten minutes, their conversation heavily loaded with plans for the summer (“we’ll have to go to the beach…” “you sure your mom won’t mind…” “ha! We’ll make a proper vacation out of it~!”) when Tanaka virtually leaped out to stop them, his violet eyes alight with glee.

“Eh?” Oboro blinked, the pair stopping and turning their heads to see Sensoji, Agawa and Ishizaki working on the gas-stoves that the site-staff had rigged up for them, a banner proudly proclaiming that no one would be able to beat all three of the “mega-spicy” challenges.

The same challenges which the deluxe Kitty-Kitty plushies were held up as prizes for…

“Ha~! You can count me out~!” the cloud quirk user grinned sheepishly, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck; “me and peppers do not mix” he added whilst the three cooks sneered at him.

“I’m game.”

Blinking, all five of the boys (and a handful of third-years who’d been snooping around; they would be officially graduating next week and didn’t need to be on campus but many had chosen to stay on at UA to help with the last school festival they’d get to enjoy) regarded the shortest teen stood there, the other second years now openly laughing at him.

“Wah~! Aizawa~!” his primary tormentor chortled; “this stuff isn’t for little kids~!” he stated, his hands grandly gesturing at the range of hot-sauces, powders and condiments he’d been using to make the batches of curry: “although… we do need a guineapig to show Moto-Sensei that it’s actually safe to eat…” he mused thoughtfully.

“Well, here I am” Shouta shrugged, his body pulling away from his stunned partner; “but I’m not doing this as a run-through for you” he said, his eyes narrowing at the blast quirk user: “if I finish all three plates of those curries and drink that bottle of sauce” he furthered whilst pointing at the fourth, bonus challenge. “Then that means I get four of the top prizes, doesn’t it?”

“Y-yeah but” Tanaka (who’d always been a touch nicer to him than the others; the grey-haired boy’s mother worked in social-services and they’d seen each other, once or twice, growing up); “Aizawa… you can’t do all four, you know, you’ll be sick at worst and…”

“Blah, blah, blah” Sensoji cut in, his grin fierce; “if the pipsqueak wants to rupture his stomach then who are we to stop him, huh?” he grinned before nodding at Ishizaki: “ring the gong, man~!” he ordered before zeroing an unfriendly smile at the eraser-quirk user. “Let’s get this party started~!”

~*~

At first, when Oboro texted them “help!Guys!IcantstophimOHMYGOD!Nnnooo!”, both Nemuri and Hizashi had thought a cute photo of Shouta trying to wrangle mangy, stray cats was going to follow…

“Out of the way~! Move, damn it~!”

However…

“Yo Yamada~! What’s the hurry— oofff~!”

“Sorryyy~!!”

What popped up on their phones instead was an image of their youngest friend sitting down at a table covered in warning signs with a greater portion of the student body crowding around in front of him…

You could practically see the heated fumes wafting from the three bowls that were laid out before him and the sauce bottle (next to a tiny glass of milk) had three skull and crossbones clearly printed on the label…

He was wearing a head-band that read “Super Spicy Curry Challenger” and, his face showcasing its default meh expression, he had a spoon in one hand and was displaying the peace sign with the other…

“O-Oboro~!” Nemuri yelled over the cheers reverberating around the area; “we’re… whoa~!”

Gasping, the young couple finally pushed their way to the front of group, their eyes widening in shock…

“Wow~!! Aizawa-kun is unstoppable~!!”

For there, his cheeks not even pinked, his brow completely free of sweat, sat Shouta encircled by a completely stunned Wrecking Bois crew whilst Anaunsā-chan, her microphone quirk broadcasting across the gathering, cheered him on, her orange eyes dazzled with stars.

“T-this… this isn’t possible” Sensoji gasped, his head shaking as the eraser quirk user shrugged and grabbed the third bowl without ceremony; “what kind of monster are you, huh?!”

“The second one tastes better” he offered mildly whilst Tanaka took a hesitant slurp from a tasting spoon near the second, large pot simmering on the back table, his left hand shoving a mound of precooked rice across his tongue beforehand.

“Yyyyyaaaaaaaaa~!!” he cried, his scream causing the crowd to erupt in laughter whilst Agawa chased after his squealing form with a milk bottle in his hand.

“Y-you~! You have to be cheating~!” Ishizaki quavered, his chameleon head rippling with different colours as he struggled to watch and understand the sight before him; “y-you~! You’re erasing the heat of it~!”

“Tch, that’s not how his quirk works and you know it~!” Oboro yelled back; “you won’t be cheating him out of his prizes in front of his friends and the third years, you hear me?!” he added, a group of the upper class-men behind him cheering right along with him, Hizashi and Nemuri.

“Ganbatte~! Aizawa-kun~!!”

Grinning, his dark eyes briefly locking with his boyfriend, Shouta polished off the third plate before beckoning Sensoji to pass him the ‘Devil’s Breath’ bottle.

“Y-you… you’re not human…” the bulkier student mumbled, his whole form quivering as the dark-haired boy stared at him unflinchingly, his left hand unscrewing the cap whilst the right brought the opening to his slightly swollen lips; “that stuff’s all the way from Mexico~! I can barely stand the smell of it~!”

co*cking a brow at him, their eye-contact unwavering, the capture-weapon expert started to drink…

“Oh my God~!! He’s doing it~!! How is he doing it~?!”

And drink…

“Oi~! Sen-kun, I wanna try next~!”

And drink…

“Me too~!”

Humming, the last mouthful slipping down his throat, the usually reserved boy gave his disgruntled bully a Cheshire cat’s smile as he stood and the bowed at the people yelling their congratulations before regarding him (the power of his quirk crackling angrily around his arms) coolly. “I’ll have that yellow one” he said whilst pointing at the most expensive Kitty-Kitty plushies (each at least four feet long, covered in premium accessories and hosting a range of interactive features); “the two black ones and the blue” he grinned, a finger wiping at the corner of his mouth to get any sauce he’d missed to lick away.

“Oh, and if you want my advice? Add more tomatoes to the third one, alright?” he offered, his tone completely nonchalant as the taller boys gasped, baulked and stumbled all over themselves to grab his winnings and shove them at him.

“Ugh~! Fine, fine just… just get out of here already~!” Agawa snipped, the feathers peppered across his arms, neck and head ruffling in annoyance; “you winning so much so quick is really bad for business, you know?”

Chapter 8: Summer dreams...

Chapter Text

“O-Oi~! P-put me d-down you… you idio-t-t-s~!”

Aizawa Shouta never would understand other people; when he looked at them freely smiling, when he saw them laugh at nothing, when they touched each other for no logical reason that he could see, it baffled him to no end…

“Make way~!! A true hero is coming through~!!”

Sure… even though he didn’t understand the touching and smiles, he didn’t mind them (most times), especially if it was Oboro who directed such things at him (usually), but…

“O-oi~!”

But being picked up and shouldered by his partner and Hizashi whilst Nemuri led the way, her arms cuddling the black Kitty-Kitty he’d given her (he didn’t want to be greedy and having four of things in his studio apartment just wasn’t practical) was not something he was particularly enjoying.

“Maa~ Shou~ just enjoy the ride, my man~!” the sunny blonde called, a veritable pack of second and third years echoing the sentiment as they approached their stall (and hopefully the end of this mortifyingly embarrassing display); “what you just did was legendary~!!”

Baulking (his own prized Kitty-Kitty clutched to his chest; he’d had the other black one, of course: it was rigged out in pilot’s gear, the goggles it wore eerily reminiscent to the ones he, his partner and Present Mic wore as part of their hero costumes), the eraser quick user struggled not fidget, fall and flash his underwear at the (God, why?!) huge group behind him.

“Tch… it… I didn’t do anything” he tried to deny, a wave of relief wafting over him when he was finally allowed to stand on his own two feet.

“Ano… it was still pretty hot, though” Oboro smirked, the expression slightly squashed when the younger teen pressed a hand into his face as punishment for the terrible pun.

“Why do I date you, again?”

“Because I’m super cute, obviously~!” the cloud quirk wielder winked, his lips moving to try and kiss the hand shoved against him and chuckling when his boyfriend pulled away with a huff; “aww~ don’t be like that, Shou-chan~ I know you like me~” he sing-songed whilst brandishing the sky-blue cat he’d been holding under his arm. “You wouldn’t have given me this amazing gift, if you didn’t~” he reasoned; “ahh~! I’m going to name him Lil Shouta and hug him all the time~!” he declared, his body easily dancing behind a few of the people wanting to pat his partner on the back when the shorter boy tried to smack him and grab the plushie back.

“Y-you’re annoying~! That’s what you are~! G-get back here~! You’re not calling it that~!”

Laughing louder, and deciding to turn the whole thing into a game of tag, the group was soon playing keep away until the end of day bell rang.

All in all, there were worse ways to spend a Friday evening…

~*~

Then, as it always did, summer sneaked up and pulled the rug right out from under him…

“… to my aunt’s house near Lake Como~! And I’ll have all the gelato I can eat~!”

He knew it was nice to be included in the group chat that they shared and, of course, he was happy that they all had so much to do, family to visit, fun activities to enjoy…

“… L.A. is just as hot, if not hotter but, dad hasn’t seen me in a while and mom’ll be busy, so…”

Also, unlike previous years, he was actually going on a vacation with his boyfriend (it… was great, really, to be able to call him that) and his family during the last week of August (he’d booked his train tickets to Shimoda, Shizuoka Prefecture where, as promised, he’d have his first time at the beach); he’d desperately tried to pay for his lodgings but Oboro’s father had stopped him.

“Ha~! D’you really think I’d take money off of the young man who’s making my boy so happy? Not in this life-time, Aizawa-kun~!”

What…

What must it be like to grow up in a house with such nice people looking after you?

“… about you, Shou?”

Blinking, his eyes zeroing in on the message as he lounged atop his Kitty-Kitty (in the middle of his living area, the window wide open and his two rickety, second-hand fans blowing for all they were worth), Shouta sighed.

He’d asked Oboro to keep his… personal circ*mstances private and this year, his second at UA, was the first time he’d had any real friends to talk to (since he’d been transferred from General Studies half way through the first year thanks to his sponsor pushing, his grades being so good and his quirk proving so useful)…

What…

What was he supposed to write back?

I’ll be sleeping in my tiny apartment alone like I usually do?

I’ll be bugging His Purple Highness for extra training?

I’ll be going to UA’s gym because the site-staff and I have an understanding?

I’ll be helping out at my old care-centre every Tuesday and Thursday?

Heh, that was the truth but what did that sound like when you compared it to Nemuri travelling all over Italy with her mother on a fashion tour or both his partner and Hizashi spending the greater part of their eight-week long holiday in the States?

God, Sensoji was right, he was pathetic…

“Shou’s going to be keeping Musutafu safe from villainy whilst we free-load like spoiled toddlers, obviously” his boyfriend typed; “we thank you for your noble sacrifice, Aizawa-sama~!”

Snorting, Shouta breathed a sigh of relief; “you’re welcome, peasants…”

~*~

The first week of his summer vacation was like every other he’d spent since he’d been moved to his apartment; the local kids were rampaging, the drug-dealers skulked about in what little shade there was (he’d reported anything suspicious he’d seen discreetly, his apathy growing when the police continued to look the other way) and he showered more regularly.

The kids at the care-home enjoyed his visits though and the manager (Ito-san) had been grateful, like he always was when he visited, to have an extra hand when it came to walking the group (aged between four and thirteen) to one of the nicer, local parks to let off some steam because, like him, these were the children that no one wanted.

Too quiet (or loud), too cynical (or desperate), too broody (or hyper), too damaged (or old), too dangerous (or ugly, not flashy enough).

Oh yes…

He remembered himself, quite vividly, when one of his first foster families (he was nine; his parents had been taken from him when the office-block they’d worked in collapsed during an earthquake whilst he was safely at school) had yelled at him for not feeling anything and refusing to get involved.

Another had told him that his quirk was more suited for villainy and that the evil seed in him needed nipping in the bud.

One family believed in ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’…

Then the Suzuki’s had just wanted the child-allowance cheque that’d been attached to him…

The Watanabe’s had been nice… until Mrs Watanabe had finally become pregnant…

And the Nakamura’s well…

He… didn’t want to think about them…

Heh…

Now that he stopped and thought about it, compared to living with those families, growing up in the care-home had been a blessing and it… it felt good to give a little of his time back…

This, of course, had nothing to do with his partner telling him that he was good with kids… that Oboro could see him being a teacher or the silly, stupid little flutter he’d felt in his chest when the older teen had said to him that fateful day when he could have…

‘No’ he thought, both hands occupied with pushing a pair of mouse-eared twins on a swing-set; ‘don’t think like that he… he’s fine, so much has happened since then… most of it good’ he furthered in the sanctity of his mind: ‘don’t jinx it, don’t jinx it, don’t jinx it~!’

~*~

“Hey kid~! Wait up a second, will ya?”

Thursday evenings were usually quiet and, if he hadn’t visited the care-home and stayed so late (he’d helped to tuck the youngest children into bed and then read them (oh, how he’d struggled not to roll his eyes) a story from their favourite All Might Pop-Up book), he would have been home by now.

He wouldn’t have had to put up with three of the local thugs (who boasted and bragged about being part of Yakuza; yeah, right) jogging to catch up with him.

“Leave me alone” he called over his shoulder, knowing full well it was stupid; his government minders were a rare presence these days and sure, he knew he could look after himself and act within the law just fine if they tried to hurt him but he was tired and more than a little emotionally drained.

Some of the older orphans had asked him what they had to do to get their own apartment and go to UA.

He… he hadn’t known what to tell them…

“Maa~ don’t be like that, we’re all neighbours in this sh*tty-block aren’t we?”

Spinning on his heel (because they’d gotten a little too close and there were more of them than he’d thought; wonderful), Shouta levelled them with a glower; “whatever it is that you want from me, the answer is no” he stated firmly whilst feeling in his baggy pants’ pocket for his cellphone.

All UA students had an emergency app they could tap for assistance and, knowing his luck, he might very well need it.

“Aww~ he’s just as cute as you’d said he’d be, Matsu-kun” one of the taller, bulkier men grinned, his grey eyes narrowing at him oddly; “come on, chibi-tan~ we’re going to a party~” he called, his expression more of a leer: “I’ll take real good care of you, alright?”

Feeling his expression shift from deadpanned to disgusted, the eraser quirk user pressed where he knew the app to be by feel (there was a crack in his phone’s screen and he couldn’t afford to repair it so he’d turned it to his advantage); “thanks” he said tartly. “But not only am I underage” he stated, his volume rising since a few people near the Seven Eleven were watching them; “I’m not interested in whatever party you’re throwing…”

“Hee~ hee~ hee~” a man with fox-features tittered; “hou? But you’ve not got anything better to do, have you?” he chuckled, his head nodding towards the apartment block: “you live by yourself, right?”

Scowling, Shouta felt his teeth clench angrily.

Sure… it wasn’t exactly a secret, but…

But Kuma-san would probably want to move him if this got out and he didn’t need that kind of stress during his third year, especially if they placed him further away from UA.

“Oi.”

Blinking, the men and the hero in training turned around to see a black car (sh*t, a really expensive one from the looks of things; not that he’d know) pulling up the empty curb side of the quiet, cracked tarmacked road, the rear passenger window partially rolled down whilst the two front doors opened in swift, fluid movements.

Instantly, the seventeen-year-old didn’t like the looks of it…

“You were meant to approach him quietly…”

f*ck!

Hissing (and really hating the law that prohibited him wearing his capture-weapon in public during holiday time before he received his full license), Shouta activated his quirk and began to systematically punch, kick and hit out at the bigger bodies trying to rush him.

From the surprised looks on their faces, they hadn’t quite expected him to attack so viciously.

Heh.

More fool them.

Being underestimated had always been one of his greatest assets…

“Enough!”

What…

Yelping, the eraser quirk user suddenly found himself hitting the floor (it was as though someone had just drained the energy straight out of him), his head trying to turn his reddened gaze toward the person who’d exited the back of the car.

However, a scarf wrapping over his eyes and strong arms snagging his limbs and binding them soon put pay to that.

“Put him in the trunk, quickly~!”

“Help~!”

“sh*t~! Get his phone~! Smash it~!”

“Help me, some—”

Gasping, his neck creaking under the strain, Shouta hadn’t been slapped so hard across his face before and, despite his best efforts, the sting stunned him into silence as he was stuffed into the car’s large trunk, the ominous clang as it shut startling him.

f*ck…

This… this wasn’t good…

In every training scenario and lecture, every teacher who’d stood before him had stated that being taken by the enemy would drastically lower a person’s chance of survival.

Why had he turned his back to the car?

Why hadn’t he run?

Tch, not that it would have mattered when the person who’d dropped him like a sack of stones had been there, he supposed.

Damn it, damn everything~!

He wasn’t going to die like this~!

He… he actually had something to live for now… his partner and their friends he… he didn’t want to leave them.

He wouldn’t!

Snarling quietly, he started to get to work on the zip-ties securing his wrists, his ears listening out for any conversations he could hear over the classical music playing in the car driving at a terrifyingly normal pace, as though they knew they could get out of the area without being disturbed, let alone chased.

sh*t…

He’d been so looking forward to visiting the beach, too…

Chapter 9: The Perfect Companion...

Chapter Text

They’d not been travelling for very long; in fact, he’d only just shimmied his hands free, his body fumbling around in the dark even after he’d removed his make-shift blindfold…

“Kurogiri? Would you be so kind?”

Hell, his ankles were still locked together when, to his growing horror, he wasn’t pulled out of the trunk…

“Whoa~!!”

But was somehow made to fall through it…

Gasping, his form colliding with a plush, carpeted surface, Shouta couldn’t think fast enough to get his bearings as his shoulders were snagged in an impossibly strong grip, his struggling form easily lifted into the air, the ties at his feet falling away...

“Careful with him now, he’s our very special guest, after all.”

sh*t…

sh*t~!

Everything was happening so quickly and, before he had a chance to squirm free, he was sat in a rigid, hard-back chair, his arms, legs, torso and neck strapped into it with thick, leather belts and buckles to see…

“Aizawa Shouta-kun? How very nice to finally meet you in person.”

An impossibly tall, broad man wearing an elegantly tailored, black western suit, his face covered in a strange, ebony-latex looking mask that seemed to maintain some kind of breathing apparatus over his mouth…

“I must apologise for the… rough treatment…”

The rest of the room (not that he could see much; there was a spotlight shining on him and another directly above the speaker whilst the rest of the chamber was awash in shadows that seemed to be writhing and roiling all around them) was a mystery; however, as the speaker’s words bounced around the area, he assumed it was big.

They could be in a warehouse (with a thickly carpeted floor?), or an under-ground parking-lot (that would explain the relatively short drive) or one of the disused factories that skirted the entertainment district, couldn’t they?

Tch, at any rate, unless he manifested a latent quirk that allowed him to teleport or phase through objects, it really didn’t matter where he was.

He was trapped and both of them knew it…

“However, you’re quite the resilient young man and my associates and I feared we’d missed our opportunity to arrange this meeting… therefore, we may have acted more… hastily than we’d prefer” the stranger finally finished, an ornate, wooden cane with a large diamond topping it tapping loudly upon the ground as he walked a few steps closer. “Hmm… that split lip will need seeing to, yes, we wouldn’t want to scar such a decidedly lovely face…”

“Please, sir” he said (because their teachers had always told them to be polite, respectful and clear in situations like this; his captor seemed to fancy himself a gentleman if his clothes were anything to go by so he’d hopefully respond well to his tone); “why am I here?” he asked.

It couldn’t be for ransom (there was no one to extort money from and UA certainly didn’t negotiate with terrorists) and, although his quirk had it uses, it wasn’t anything to brag about.

So…

God, the more the silence dragged on between them, the more prominent the grey-eyed man who’d leered at him featured in his mind.

Was this something to do with human trafficking? Sexual slavery?

No… no, that…

“You’re quite the astute young man, Aizawa-kun” the enigmatic male (whose age was impossible to tell; he sounded relatively young but every inch of him was covered in cloth or fabric) said gently, his white-gloved fingers drumming atop the cane’s head; “and a very good student, by all accounts, yes?”

Why would he bring up such a thing now?

UA was closed for the summer, most of the staff were on vacation and, if he was completely honest? Yes, his grades were good but he wasn’t the Class Rep or Valedictorian…

“Why, even now you’re running through your training, looking for ways to escape, are you not?”

Blinking, Shouta felt the icy feeling in the pit of his stomach intensify as the man who’d abducted him laughed.

That… wasn’t a kind sound…

“Well, my boy, allow me to save you the trouble” he chuckled; “you’re mine now, so there is no escape” he stated: “and as someone that belongs to me, I have certain expectations that you’ll meet and rules that you’ll follow” he furthered mildly. “Failure to comply will result in… consequences.”

Swallowing thickly, the advice of his homeroom teacher filtering through his mind (‘play along, don’t make life difficult for yourself, you’ve called for help, just hold on and stay safe while you wait’), the eraser quirk user struggled not to fidget as the man took another step forward.

“Ahh? Still so reserved? So calm, Aizawa-kun… could it be that you don’t think I’m serious?” he asked, his tone crooning and curious; “or, perhaps, you’re under the misguided notion that help is at hand?”

‘Don’t panic… try your best not to look scared or intimidated…’

“Oh, Aizawa-kun… you didn’t really think that your phone wasn’t jammed before it was destroyed, did you?”

Stiffening, the raven-haired teen felt his trembling fingers clutch at the arm rests he was strapped to, his breath hitching.

“It seems that you’re unaware of how valuable you are to me” the older continued, a hand reaching out to ruffle his hair in what he assumed to be a playful gesture.

It was… terrifying…

“Then, perhaps, it is only fair that I show you?”

Struggling to bite back his scream as the room was flooded by darkness, Shouta didn’t dare to move whilst those foreign fingers continued to play with his hair; he was being petted, he realised.

Like a f*cking dog!

He needed to channel that anger, use it to focus, he…

“Ah!”

A screen of light flashed out of nowhere, blinding him with its intensity and then…

“W-what?”

“Aizawa Shouta, five foot three, sixteen years old, recommended to UA by a Government Sponsor and placed in General Studies Class 1 C for a probationary period” the man so calmly stood beside him read out; that… that was his student record, it was supposed to be sealed: “quirk – erasure…”

Darkness, then light…

His current student statistics appeared; his grades, teachers’ comments, the works…

“When I first came across you, I was incredibly impressed by your mutation” he furthered; “and, for a while, I had thought about taking it from you…”

W-what…

“However, as I investigated you further, I realised that your power had limits… and those limits were too much of a hindrance” the villain mused, his tone thoughtful; “ahh, but to remove those limits then… then I would have a perfect soldier capable of crippling my enemies with just a glance…”

Oh God…

Oh God…

He didn’t like where this was going…

Darkness, then light…

Shuddering, memories still too fresh to ignore rippling through him, Shouta tensed as frames of CCTV footage showed Garvey’s attack on the city-block; the Pro Heroes falling, Sensoji and Hizashi barely surviving, Oboro disappearing behind clouds of dust, masonry and ash…

“Naturally, I wanted to test the skill of the body I’d be taking… heh, the finesse of my work lies in altering quirks after a person becomes deceased, you see” he said as blithely as someone observing the weather; “my attempts at altering the powers of the living have been… largely unsuccessful” he admitted with a lithe shrug. “However, you did something completely unexpected that day, didn’t you?” he chuckled; “you lived…”

No…

No this… this couldn’t be right…

“And, in defeating one of my greatest creations, you enabled everyone else there to live, too…” his abductor tittered; “why, my boy, I found myself openly applauding you after my rage had finally burned out” he praised, the grip on his hair tightening a fraction: “and so, could I truly bring myself to kill this orphaned David who slayed my Goliath?” he hummed. “No… no, that simply would not do, would it?”

Darkness, then light…

“For, how could I murder the young man who’d inadvertently landed a much greater prize in my lap, hmm?”

“N-n-no…” he breathed, his head shaking, his eyes staring at the new image in horror…

“Shirakumo Oboro is such an appropriate name for him, isn’t it?” his tormenter purred, the other teens face appearing alongside his, Nemuri’s and Hizashi’s; that photo… it must have been taken during the Saturday he and his partner had gone on a date together.

How long had this man, this fiend, been stalking them?

“Yes, yes… very fitting and, better still, that ability of his is a familial quirk and, as such, what blood my pawns were able to scrape away from the scene held all of the genetic information I’d needed for a servant almost as useful as you’ll prove to be…” he added conversationally before.

“He means a lot to you, doesn’t he, Aizawa-kun?”

sh*t… get a hold of yourself… control your breathing…

Damn-it, damn-it, damn-it…

Don’t f*cking cry…

“They all do, don’t they? In fact, one could quite easily assume that they’re your whole world outside of school and your charitable works, wouldn’t you agree?”

“P-please” he rasped, his eyes screwing shut; “p-please don’t…”

“Ahh, why my boy, don’t you see?” the older chuckled; “their lives and the lives of their families are in your hands, not mine…”

Darkness, then light…

“For, should you disobey me, should you break any of my rules, then…”

What followed were a series of photographs all sporting dates that’d occurred that week; Nemuri and her mother hugging a huge group of people waving banners in a language he didn’t know, Hizashi hugging his father at the arrivals-gate, Oboro carrying his little brother across his shoulder whilst he and their parents walked to the airport’s carpark.

“They will suffer, do you understand?”

Nemuri in her favourite bikini, posing cheekily with a flock of men swooning behind her…

“But I am not so heartless…”

Hizashi hugging a bucket of his precious fried chicken, his step-brother and sister playfully grabbing for it…

“You’ll be given three strikes” he offered; “it will take time for you to adjust… it’s only natural and so, if you try to escape, I’ll break your legs on the first strike… if you purposefully try to harm me, I’ll break your arms and your legs… and if you’ve not learned your lesson by then? You’ll be disposed of” he shrugged. “It’ll be these three strikes only on all but one area where your compliance must never be brought into question…”

Oboro laughing excitedly as he ran towards a hot-dog stand…

Darkness, then light…

A… a child?

Darkness, then light…

A collage of pictures showing him working with the children from his old care-home over the last two years; bandaging grazed knees, offering comforting hugs, playing ball-games, teaching a few basic, self-defence moves, buying them some discounted ice-creams from a kindly vendor…

Darkness, then light…

The same child; his small, saddened face hidden by unruly, ivory hair. He was awkwardly stood, his body looking as though it wanted to curl in on itself…

Heh…

He knew that feeling all too well…

“This is Shimura Tenko, my successor and heir to the vast Empire I’ve been building since before you were born” the suit wearer stated, his tone incredibly fond; “you are remarkably good with children, aren’t you, Aizawa-kun? Yes, why, you’re the perfect companion for him…”

Swallowing thickly (his face was wet, his nerves were shot; this… this couldn’t be real?), Shouta tried to keep himself from falling apart at the seams.

“Yes, for I fear that I am much too old and, ahh… set in my ways to give him everything he needs at this tender age” he sighed, that oppressive hand finally leaving his head; “you will oversee his lessons, keep him entertained, tuck him into bed, soothe him during his nightmares and help him to use and control his quirk” he instructed. “You will be a big-brother to him, help to keep him safe and make daily reports to me on his progress…”

“I…”

“And should you ever, at any moment, even think to harm him or poison him against me, you can forget about the three strikes I’m so graciously allowing” he quietly snarled; “no… for that crime, I will simply bring your precious friends to this place and force you to watch as they’re skinned alive, do you understand?”

Choking on the sob he’d been so desperately trying to hold back, the eraser quirk user found his head suddenly jerked to meet the other’s masked face; “no one is coming for you” the fiend whispered: “no one even knows that you’re missing… and no one will care even when they do” he reminded. “Your friends will move on, someone else in UA will take your place on that hero course… life will go on” he stated; “and truly, isn’t it safer for them that way?” he murmured before, in a flash of movement, that masked countenance was crackling searing hot energy in his personal space.

“You belong to me… say it…”

“I… I…” he tried, the fingers clutching his chin tightening their grip; “I… belo-ng to… you…” he managed, his heart sinking.

“Good boy” the suited male soothed in perfect English, that hand now moving to smooth over the bruising he could feel blooming along the lower portion of his face; “well, now that we’re agreed, you will call me Sensei from now on” he ordered, his hands clapping once in the silence of the room, the noise further startling him.

“Let’s get you settled into your new rooms, shall we?”

~*~

Flopping onto one of the twin beds which furnished the hotel room he was sharing with his brother, Oboro snagged his phone from its charger, his eyes regarding the lock-screen (a photo he’d taken of Shouta snoozing cutely in his sleeping bag) with a fond grin before he opened it.

Right now he was fourteen hours behind his boyfriend and, as much as he loved New York and really enjoyed spending time with his dad (who was usually in the American office for weeks on end, working hard for all of them) he missed the shorter boy so much already.

“Hey you” he typed; “it’s just turned 9am here… so it’s about 11pm where you are, right?” he wrote, a smile splitting his face: “you’ve probably just star-fished over your Kitty-Kitty Boro” he added with a chuckle. “So don’t worry about writing back until you wake up tomorrow” he furthered, his eyes slipping shut as he imagined his partner; “I miss you… and I can’t wait until we can hit the beach together” he continued, his smile turning devious: “I’m going to buy you a pair of speedos to wear~!” he laughed.

“Don’t work too hard, stay hydrated and keep your eye on my Instagram, alright?” he almost finished, the sound of his mother knocking on the door and asking him if he was ready to go drifting overhead; “heh… gotta run, we’re going to do the really embarrassing, touristy things the Japanese are known for~!” he tapped.

“Wish me luck~!”

Chapter 10: Welcome home...

Chapter Text

The floor suddenly giving way was rapidly becoming one of his least favourite things…

“Whoa~!”

He’d been released from the chair after Sensei had walked off with a jaunty wave of the cane he’d previously used, his mind and body numb (tired, so f*cking tired) as the same, ghostly grip snagged him by his shoulder and then, the second his feet and touched the carpet, the carpet was gone…

“Watch your step, Shouta-kun.”

He was slumped across a futon…

“Do you require… assistance?”

And, worse still?

He wasn’t alone…

Gasping, he somehow managed to pull himself up and scoot away from the amorphous, dark entity that’d just addressed him; sh*t, what was it with these villains and western tailoring? The man(?) looked more like one of those fancy waiters you saw in American movies about England than a dangerous person who could teleport people at will.

“My name is Kurogiri” the lemon eyed, gaseous form told him without a mouth, the dim light of the room (there must be a lamp on, somewhere; the ebony vapours leeching off of the fiend had mostly circled around him as he tried not to cower like a toddler on the blanket covered futon he’d disturbed upon his fall so he couldn’t be sure).

“It’s very nice to meet you, Shouta-kun” it purred out, the black mass of its body coalescing into a thicker fog as it loomed up and over him; “you and I will be working very closely together from Saturday, so I hope you’ll forgive my… informality?”

Warily watching as more of the light died away, the eraser quick user didn’t know what to do…

Was he being tested?

Would he be hurt if he used his power on this spectre?

Would someone else be hurt if he did?

“Am I scaring you, Shou?”

Baulking, his eyes igniting red as a warped parody of his partner’s (‘how dare you, how f*cking dare you!!’) voice filled his ears, Shouta felt just a tinge of spiteful-pride flare up within him as the vapours were forced back into a more human shape, the luminescence of the room he’d landed in brightening.

“Oh? The little kitten has claws, does he?”

“I don’t know who you are” he breathed, his shaking legs forcing him into a stand; “but your boss seems to want me around” he reminded, his mind pushing his eyelids to remain open as long as they could despite the sting and redness his earlier tears had inflicted. “And if we… we’re going to work together” he heard himself say (‘just play along, it’s your best chance… your only option, for now’); “then don’t mess with me” he breathed: “and k-keep… keep his voice o-out of your mouth, you got it?”

Chuckling, the sound strange in the quiet of the room (he couldn’t hear any traffic and, even as he’d quickly blinked and reactivated his power, he’d not dared to look around the rest of the chamber just yet), the tall, ominous creature raised its hands in surrender.

“Heh, alright” it agreed; “I am an… amalgamation of many people” it mused: “I’m what Sensei calls a Nomu and, just like you, I am a servant” it shrugged. “I have no interest in hurting you, Shouta-kun… but I cannot help but be intrigued” it continued; “I have so many of Shirakumo’s memories, you see” it explained: “so many of his… wants…”

Sucking in a breath between his teeth, the eraser quirk user steadied himself upon the futon (tch, he probably looked as intimidating as he felt), his arms raised defensively.

They both knew it was stupid…

They both knew he was at a critical disadvantage…

They both knew that this encounter could end with him screaming into the futon in one way or another…

He shuddered despite himself…

“Ahh… perhaps another time then, neh?” it purred; “taking you now might anger him, mightn’t it? That, and I suppose I’ll need to ask for permission” it sighed, a deeper, scarier tone darkening its vocals, its posture straightening and broadening. “Heh… in the meantime, won’t you please stay so determined, little hero, hmm?” it laughed before those hellish eyes flashed at him intensely.

“I like to break my toys…”

And then, just like that, Kurogiri swirled away.

Like so much sewage down a drain.

Trembling whilst wrapping his arms about himself in a self-soothing gesture he thought he’d weened himself out of when he was ten, Shouta collapsed back to his knees and tried his best not to cry.

Because what good would crying do?

It was illogical…

It was irrational…

It…

Pulling his knees to his chest, this time there was no stopping the sobs wracking through him.

‘O-Oboro…’ he thought; ‘Hizashi… Nemuri… please… please don’t forget about me…’ his mind begged: ‘I’ll try my best to keep you safe just… just please… don’t let my life have really been for nothing… I… I can live… so long as you… remember me…’

~*~

He didn’t recall falling asleep but, a cough spluttering him back to wakefulness, it took him a good ten seconds to realise that the terrifying nightmare that’d visited him…

“O-Oh God…”

Wasn’t a nightmare at all…

Blinking slowly, the seventeen-year-old carefully sat up from the curled-up position he must have settled in, his eyes wide and disbelieving…

This… wasn’t his shoe-box of an apartment…

Hell, you could have probably fit that space into the bedroom he sat in three times over…

Swallowing whilst carefully looking around, Shouta took in everything his training told him to be important, his gaze warily checking the key places where cameras were probably hidden; heh, hidden being the operative word as he could quite clearly see four in the corners of the vast, square room. Then, lowering his gaze, he found a series of windows (open to let the cool, morning air in) spaced across the wall to his right and the one directly in front of him; he could see trees and the sunrise beyond them, somewhere, was still new enough that the sky was pinked with orange hues.

So, it was relatively early, then?

Shifting a little (his body was stiff from the awkward way he’d (f*cking) cried himself to sleep), the raven-haired teen then looked to the wall to his left (everything was white, clean and crisp; even the gossamer curtains wafting gently in the breeze seemed eerily new and sterile), his eyes widening.

A large set of built-in wardrobes with traditional, sliding doors, a flat-screen television (built into the wall; there was no way he could snag any of the electrical wires to use) and a shoe-wrack greeted him before a partially opened door (a bathroom?).

Carefully getting up (his legs still wobbling; damn it), the teen then regarded the wall that the top of his futon was pressed against; two low, bedside tables rested on either side, each sporting a battery-powered lamp that were still alight.

Heh, they were small, light and wouldn’t do anyone any harm even if he lobbed them with all of his strength.

Sensei certainly hadn’t put his room together on the fly, had he?

Sighing, and not really sure what he should do next (if he was perfectly honest, he just wanted to curl up under the (surprisingly soft) comforter an sleep forever), Shouta stretched, padded off of his bed and neatly made it up again (because doing something normal was a small comfort he could allow himself). Then, his brain finally realising that his shoes were no longer on his feet (‘don’t freak out… so, someone just took them off of you while you were sleeping and didn’t even f*cking wake up, s-so what, right?’) he slowly and deliberately walked to one of the windows.

There was nothing to stop him and his abductor’s warning was, admittedly, making him think twice but…

But if there was even a chance that he could get out, not now, necessarily, then…

“Ahh, you’re awake? Good.”

Blinking, his body freezing mid-step, the casually pleasant voice of his captor drifted from the TV screen behind him.

Now what was he supposed to do?

“Hmm? Oh, Aizawa-kun, don’t let me stop you” the villain called; “by all means, take a look outside but… do be careful not to wake my body-guard…”

Nodding (and refusing to look back), Shouta carefully approached the closest window, his hands very carefully pulling the curtain (not electrified, thank God) to one side, his face slowly peering out.

He… he wasn’t in Musutafu Proper anymore or, if he was, then this house (three stories high, traditional and expensive regardless of the more basic, modern interior) was cloistered away in the forested mountains to the north of the city he lived in.

There were trees for as far as the eye could see and there seemed to be a strange, bubble-like dome (some kind of force-field or camouflage array; they’d briefly looked at such things during the R&D lectures) which covered the home(?), a wide, grassy-patch of garden and some other buildings dotted away from the main house.

Peering down (it was a good twenty, twenty-five foot drop; he could probably land without breaking his ankles), he didn’t see anything of note (or use, mores the pity; the man couldn’t have kept easily accessible motorcycles just lying around, could he?) until…

“W-wha…” he breathed, his eyes shrinking in astonishment (and surprise; horror was probably a factor, too) when something his brain had first clocked as a huge compost pile was actually a person, his massive form (he didn’t dare to think just how big) curled in a foetal position.

God…

What he’d thought was the wheezing of air-conditioning fans (there were a few, wall-mounted units sprinkled across the exterior wall) was actually the snoring of that man.

“His name is Gigantomachia” the man who’d forcibly employed him called; “he is under strict orders not to harm you… unless he finds you trying to leave the premises” he furthered, the pause between his next words very deliberate: “but, you certainly weren’t attempting to do such a thing just now, were you?”

Shaking his head and stepping back from the window (he’d need more than a motorcycle to outrun a man of that size), Shouta turned to see the screen filled with static, a quick look around confirming that Kurogiri either wasn’t in the room or could turn invisible.

sh*t…

That was an unnerving thought…

“How do you like your room, Aizawa-kun?”

Blinking (and struggling not to fidget) the eraser quirk user realised that the man who held his life (and the lives of those he cared about; God only knew how powerful, wealthy and influential he was: the photographs he’d seen of his friends on their overseas vacations had been taken from afar and without their knowledge, he was sure) in his hands probably wouldn’t tolerate his silences…

Or any back-chat, either…

“I…” he tried, his brain stalling; “I… ugh, it’s great… thank you, S-sensei” he tried because, what the f*ck else was he meant to say? Going overboard would sound too forced and potentially sarcastic whilst kicking-off, screaming and yelling would probably land him in the basem*nt…

Or worse…

“Heh, and they say that your generation lack manners” the man behind the white-noise chuckled; “that’s exactly the kind of respect I wish to receive, Aizawa-kun” he praised: “continue to please me, do as you’re told and you’ll find your new life all the more agreeable, I’m sure” he offered. “Now… breakfast is being served down-stairs in one hour” he stated; “take a shower, change into a new set of clothes and apply some of the healing-balm I’ve allotted you to those unsightly bruises and your lip” he furthered. “I’ll see you at 07:00 sharp” he added, the screen going blank; “do not keep me waiting.”

Shuddering, Shouta took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

‘Keep it together… you’re all you’ve got right now’ he thought, his head turning towards the wardrobes; ‘you can find a way to get out of here but you’ve got to be careful… you’ve got to be smart’ he reminded himself: ‘no one is coming for you… but you still have people to save…’

Steadying himself with that knowledge, the hero in training made his way to the built-in storage units (that were bigger, overall, than his bathroom back home), his right brow quirking; he only had five outfits to his name and, if they’d been looking out for him, his abduction clearly pre-planned, then maybe they’d broken into his apartment and...

“Holy sh*t…” he whispered.

Rows upon rows of neatly hung clothes (all in his size, some even tailored; what the… how the f*ck had they…) in a myriad of styles, colours and the cloths greeted them, a chest of draws artfully tucked beneath pants all hanging in a perfect crease from the coat-hangers above.

It was all ridiculously expensive...

God…

Was he really expected to wear such things?

Slanting his eyes towards the shoe wrack, he was now less surprised to see a range of shoes (from formal, black-leather to designer sneakers (some he recognised as Hizashi’s favourite brand), all in his size too), all new and freshly de-boxed, looking back at him.

So maybe he shouldn’t have been too freaked out to see that his underwear was perfect, as well.

Heh… and most of his socks were covered in anime cats, too.

sh*t…

Someone was trying to win him over, one terrifyingly mixed-message (I’ll kill all of your friends but here, why not have some nice clothes and heal yourself, first?) at a time…

~*~

The bathroom, he found, was similarly ridiculous (gleaming white porcelain, tiles accented with golden fixtures) and, from what he could tell, camera free; sure, there were no plughole-stoppers (drowning himself was clearly something they thought he’d try) but there were fresh, a huge, western-styled tub with a separated shower stall, fluffy towels, soaps and lotions, shampoos and conditioners and a range of medical-supplies.

Medical-supplies he might need when training his new charge (which was just… preposterous, really; he wasn’t a teacher and Sensei clearly wasn’t short of money: was stealing a boy you could mould into a tutor really easier than hiring one?) or seeing to himself if he received one of the consequences he’d been warned about.

God…

‘You haven’t got time to hang around, you idiot’ a quiet voice in the back of his mind grumped; ‘just get cleaned, dressed and out of here already’ it huffed: ‘pissing off that guy is not a good idea… no matter how much you want to…'

Chapter 11: Shou Nii-san~!

Chapter Text

“Hey man, you hear from Shou?”

Shirakumo Oboro wouldn’t have called himself a pushy or (heaven forbid) clingy boyfriend (especially since being a boyfriend, in general, was something that thrilled him every time he thought about it) but it was 6pm and his partner hadn’t even read his texts yet.

He knew he was being silly, but…

“No bro, sorry…”

But Shouta (despite his sometimes-lazy appearance) was an early riser and had taken to getting up, going for a run and training before having breakfast; it was 8am back home and so the younger teen should have been up and moving at least an hour ago…

“Has he looked at any of your messages?”

Hell, it was weird for him not to have spammed them with cat-videos; there were a handful of strays that they all liked to feed and keep an eye on and, every morning since the three of them had left Japan, the homebound member of their roof-top quartet had bombarded them with all kinds of clips dubbed with his most lack-lustre voice for comical effect.

“Huh… no, no he hasn’t… hold on… let me get my tracking thingmajig…”

Knowing that Hizashi seemed to be taking his worry seriously enough to get his tech involved was a good balm for his nerves, at least.

“That’s weird…”

Blinking at his phone screen, the meal he’d ordered going cold despite his mother co*cking a brow at him, his father and little brother too engaged in a sword-fight made up of golden French-fries to notice; “what is?”

“I can’t locate his phone’s sim-card” the modest genius typed back; “dude… Shou must’ve totalled his cell during training again” the blonde sent back with a laughing emoji: “remember when he launched it with his death-scarf by accident and it totally smacked Hida in the head?”

Laughing (because yes, that’d been hilarious; his boyfriend’s deadpanned apology to the upper-classman was still one of the funniest things he’d ever seen, especially when he told the injured party to ‘quit being a baby and give me my phone back’), Oboro shook his head ruefully.

“Good times, man” he replied, his worry dripping away; he knew that his partner had a pretty good insurance policy on the cell so he’d probably be in touch at some point over the weekend, he was sure; “so, what’re you, your dad and those terror-twins who call you nii-san doing, huh?”

~*~

Breakfast had been…

“You are expected to eat everything, Aizawa-kun… I cannot abide waste.”

Stressful…

Here he was, sat at a long, western table, the interior of the dinning room like something out of an incredibly clean, Victorian-British museum, a traditional breakfast of fish-porridge, miso-soup, grilled mackerel, rice and pickles neatly laid out before him whilst Sensei had nothing but a broadsheet newspaper…

The older man was sat at the head of the table with him, awkwardly, to the left…

After everything that’d happened over the last evening and night, eating food (even the smell of it) was making him feel ill…

But…

If he refused, he could be starved or worse, couldn’t he?

“Keeping physically and mentally strong when held captive is imperative” he heard his homeroom teacher say, the lecture (he was so glad he’d listened to as opposed to nodding off) coming to the fore of his mind; “unless you’re certain that poison is involved, you should take every opportunity to stay full and hydrated…”

Swallowing, he said a quiet “itadakimasu” and began to pick his way through the meal, his hand reaching for the glass of mugi-tea he’d been given to help get everything down.

God…

Sensei hadn’t done anything other than just sit there, his eyes somehow (because that same, black mask was covering his head) reading the impossibly small characters set out in traditional lines on the thin paper.

sh*t…

He was certainly hoping that the man wasn’t expecting him to teach Tenko how to read that*…

“Tell me, Aizawa-kun, how old were you when your parents died?”

Blinking (and nearly choking on the rice he’d been chewing), the seventeen-year-old managed to swallow it down, a quick sip of his drink helping to cover how nervous he was (or so he hoped); “e-eight, sir” he replied, his eyes still purposefully looking at the food he needed to finish.

He was a plain-toast person and, if he was honest? He really didn’t know how he’d be able to get through the very strongly scented fish dishes cooling in front of him.

“Tenko was five when his family was slaughtered” the older man revealed slowly; “he killed them all himself… in fact, it’ll be the first-year anniversary tomorrow, if I remember correctly.”

W-what?

What the f*ck?

Slowly turning his head to view the villain (still so casually reading the paper, his tone blasé), Shouta really couldn’t hide the horror roiling across his features this time.

“He manifested an incredibly interesting and powerful quirk, you see” the other continued, either not noticing his distress or caring; “and, as it developed, instead of praising him and nurturing his destructive potential, they became afraid, they tried to lock him and all the chaos he could bring upon this hypocritical, hero-centric world away” he mused. “And they paid very dearly for that mistake” he chuckled, his gloved hands lazily turning an oversized page; “so is the fate of fools” he shrugged: “you are not a fool, are you, Aizawa-kun?”

Trying to keep his breathing steady (he was going to tutor a child capable of wiping out his whole family, oh God… oh God), the raven-haired boy shook his head (because he couldn’t trust himself to speak; he’d had to put his chopsticks down to hide his shaking).

“Well then, since you are not a fool, how will you approach him when you meet each other tomorrow?”

‘Oh, I’ll be screaming and running in the other direction’ his hysterical mind replied whilst he desperately called upon a composure he just didn’t have.

Think~! Think, think, think~!

This man was a villain (egocentric, hero-hating, powerful, terrifying just through his presence alone, arrogant), he wanted Tenko to become his successor, he wanted him nurtured in a certain way, he…

Wait…

“H-how would you like me to approach him, s-sir?”

A beat of silence, two, three…

“Very good, Aizawa-kun” the older murmured, the sound closer to a purr, a pleased laugh mixing into it and helping Shouta not to sh*t himself.

God…

That’d been a close call…

“I want you to treat him with the same gentleness and kindness I’ve watched you bestow upon those similarly discarded children” he instructed; “and you may use your quirk, of course, especially when playing with him” he stated. “We have called his power ‘decay’… and it does exactly what the name suggests” he revealed mildly; “should he ever try to grab you with all five digits of his hands, I’d suggest that you erase his power quickly and extract yourself from his grasp” he furthered. “Kurogiri will be overseeing your time together (‘oh f*cking, goody’) as a precautionary measure and he will intervene should he feel you’re unable to” he added, that masked head tilting towards him; “the more you prove yourself valuable to me, the more protections you’ll be granted, alright?”

sh*t… that wasn’t rhetorical, was it?

Wait…

Did… he mean protection from the mist-seeping menace?

“T-thank you, sir.”

~*~

When Sensei had left the room, a gloved hand rubbing through his freshly washed hair once more, Shouta had shoved the food (cold, tasteless in the wake of his shock) into his mouth unthinkingly, swallowed it all despite the knots in his stomach and followed the strange, gangly, mute servant who’d led him to the dinning room back upstairs to his room.

Once inside, he heard the deadbolt lock behind him, his body flinching at the sound.

“You have the rest of today and this evening to get properly settled in” his owner had told him before he’d departed; “relax, watch the television, read through the files I’ve given you about Tenko” he’d suggested: “your meals will be brought to you but, from tomorrow, you’ll be eating with us…”

Us meaning Sensei, his student and goodness only knew who else.

Sighing, his socked feet sinking into the carpet, the hero in training (‘former’ a frightened voice in the back of his mind murmured) stared at the stark walls of his prison, a gilded-cage without the gilding, his gaze slowly looking up at the sprinklers jutting out of the ceiling alongside a few lights.

Somehow setting fire to the place was out, then…

‘What are you going to do now, Aizawa?’ a cruel voice that reminded him of playground bullies and Sensoji; ‘what can you do?’

~*~

The rest of Friday moved in a blur; he ate his lunch (onigiri and sliced fruit), ate his dinner (curry, his favourite style) watched the television (a teenager being kidnapped near the entertainment district didn’t appear on the news or anywhere else) and read about Tenko.

The kid loved video-games, reading manga and eating sweets.

Heh…

Who’d have thought that such a normal sounding boy could systematically reach out for and…

No, no that was unfair…

Kids couldn’t be held responsible for such things, especially when they were so young, could they?

Sighing, his body slumped across his futon regardless of the heat, he found himself remembering Hizashi confiding in him when they were alone on the rooftop on his mother’s birthday, his words full of the guilt he felt for being born.

How the screams he’d let free after entering the world had burst the eardrums of his parents and the midwives.

Sure, the damage had been relatively easy to fix and they’d been able to restrict his power until he was old enough to understand and control it but, even now, he could see the regret on the usually sunny blonde’s face.

That had been the first time he’d hugged someone his own age…

So maybe…

Maybe Tenko had been scared, terrified by what his body could do, his little hands reaching out for comfort and then…

Poof.

Everyone he touched was gone.

It must have been awful for him…

So awful that Shouta couldn’t quite imagine it…

Perhaps, if he was careful and clever about it, he could help the boy…

Help him and get him away from Sensei…

Sensei who clearly wanted to turn him into a weapon pointed directly at their society that was based on heroics, who wanted to see the world so many had fought so hard to create, burn.

To think that such people existed, to know that people who wanted nothing but destruction were really out in the world and not just antagonist characters dreamed up by writers for manga and movies was…

He swallowed thickly, a new train of thought stealing his attention.

‘You’re his now’ he thought, his eyes closing; ‘does complying make you an accomplice? Will you be seen as a villain? Who’ll believe you when you say you were coerced? How will you pay for a lawyer to defend you?’

sh*t…

Regardless of what the future had in store, he was pretty much f*cked, wasn’t he?

~*~

Tenko didn’t want to feel so excited but, as he shuffled into Sensei’s favourite dinning room (it was too big and old for his liking, but still), his little hand clasped in Kurogiri’s (he really liked his guardian, he looked so cool and getting to jump through portals was really fun), he found himself looking for his new big-brother instantly.

“Ahh, Tenko my boy, how did you sleep?”

“Real good” he replied quickly, his eyes already locked on the slender teenager (dressed in ripped-up black jeans and a t-shirt sporting his favourite RPG’s antagonist; so cool~!) stood next to his adoptive father, the other’s (really pretty) hair just a bit longer than his, his smile soft.

Wow…

He looked like a main character from a manga~!

And he could erase quirks, too, so he didn’t have to be as careful when he was near him, either…

He wouldn’t need to add the teen’s hands to his collection…

“Umm…”

“Heh, there’s no need to be shy” Sensei chuckled, a gloved hand landing upon his new brother’s shoulder (ohh, he was scared, wasn’t he? Heh… that was good, that meant that he’d behave… unlike the others); “come over here and say hello.”

Nodding, his hand leaving the ghostly grip (that he couldn’t hurt even if he wanted to; Kurogiri was so cool, too~!) of his minder, Tenko scuttled towards the older boy, his red eyes wide as they meet dark ebony.

“Hi” he said, somewhat shyly.

“Hi” the other returned, his body sinking down to kneel in front of him; “my name is Aizawa Shouta” he said, his voice even nicer then the child was expecting: “it’s nice to meet you” he added.

Wow!

He’d actually come really close to him.

Smiling (and not caring about the pain in his chapped lips), Tenko clapped his hands together; “it’s great to meet you to, Shou nii-san~” he stated, the approval of his guardian’s choice causing All for One to chuckle endearingly: “we’re gonna be best friends, I just know it~!”

Chapter 12: All bets are off...

Chapter Text

Sinking into a (too his mind, anyway) well deserved bubble bath, a sigh leaving his lips, Mister Prince stretched luxuriantly whilst music (some of his earlier work) played in the background, the mood-lighting playing across the steamy-tiles putting his mind at ease.

Ahh, was there any better way to spend a Sunday evening?

Well, if there was, he hadn’t found it…

“Purple-rain~! Purple-rain~!”

Feeling his brows furrow in annoyance (he was sure that he’d set his cell to do not disturb; sh*t… if someone had managed to patch into the line then it was probably important), the Pro Hero grumbled, reached over and snagged the singing device to check the caller-id.

“Cloud child?” he murmured; co*cking a brow, he accepted the call, opted for loud-speaker and returned the device to the stand that rested next to his tub, his slippery fingers ensuring that it was placed safely next to the flute of champagne he’d treated himself to: “boy? Aren’t you meant to be on vacation?”

“Ugh, yeah, sorry to bother you, Mister” one of his best trainee’s said, his voice a little strained; “but… have you heard from Shouta?”

“Broody boy?” he mused, his lips pulling into a confused frown; now that he thought about it, Eraser Head had asked him if he could continue meeting, working and training with him over the summer, hadn’t he? “No, no I haven’t” he replied, his body sitting up a little straighter in the tub; it wasn’t like the usually reserved kid to ask for something and then not go through with it and, after reaching for his phone and checking his messages, both of his brows lifted.

His youngest intern had said that he’d be dropping by the Agency on Friday and he’d not turned up…

And he had forgotten all about the appointment because one of his team-mates had been injured in the line of duty…

sh*t…

“I know it’s probably silly” Oboro continued, the worry he felt peppering his tone; “but he’s not read or responded to any of the messages me and the others have sent him… we’ve tried to call him, too” he furthered: “we thought he must have wrecked his phone but… it’s been three days and we haven’t heard a thing” he explained. “It’s not like him to suddenly drop out of contact, I mean, he doesn’t have Facebook, Twitter or Instagram but he’s not uploaded any cat-videos to YouTube, either and, well, that’s his thing, you know?” the other tried to laugh; “and… if he hasn’t been with you, either…”

“Have you tried his folks?” the Pro asked, his fingers scrolling through the contact information he had on the teen; “does he have any siblings, or…”

“He… he doesn’t have any family…”

Blinking owlishly and doing a double take, His Purple Highness found his frown deepen; “what do you mean?” because there was no way UA had sent him a kid with no relatives without providing information about the boy’s assigned guardian along with contact information and details about potential, emotional triggers.

If they’d dared to just ferry the teen out to train without someone being there to actively support him in his heroic endeavours then there’d be hell to pay…

“He’s been living by himself since he was fourteen” Oboro revealed; “he only told me a few months ago and he, well, he didn’t want anyone else to know” he continued: “he said that he had a Sponsor but… he didn’t really explain what that meant or who they were…”

Oh f*ck no!

“Okay Cloud-child” he breathed, his tone lacking any heat (because it certainly wasn’t the other boy’s fault); “you leave broody-boy to me, alright?” he assured, his fingers scrolling to UAs emergency numbers after sending a quick text to his second in command, full well knowing that she would be able to get Eraser Head’s current address up for him. “I’m sure he’s fine but it won’t hurt to check on him, will it?”

“Thank you, Mister” the older teen breathed (and oh, wasn’t he so sweet to be worrying about his boyfriend?); “I really appreciate it…”

“Heh! Don’t be silly, Oboro-kun~!” he laughed, the address *pinging* onto his home-screen; “now go on and enjoy the rest of your day… I’ll text when I get a’hold of him, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s great” the trainee said, his relief almost palpable; “ja ne!”

“Ja ne~!” he replied, his thumb ending the call, his good humour dissipating in the light of this new information.

God…

Shouta’s attitude and disposition made so much more sense now; sh*t… the news left him feeling incredibly guilty.

He’d just been treating the kid like a broody teenager, his advice usually brisk and his tolerance of the other’s sullenness rarely sympathetic.

f*ck.

If he’d had known that his student was an orphan, if he’d have known there was past trauma (because how couldn’t being raised with no kin not lead to some form of it?) then he would have approached the teen so much differently.

sh*t!

He would have been checking up on him, demanding to have meetings with his Sponsor, he…

“Not now… not right now” he muttered to himself; “it’s 10pm so Shouta should be home and… Jesus Christ have mercy! What the hell is he doing living in a sh*tty place like that?!” he growled, his eyes narrowing at the map-pin showing the other’s apartment complex. “Man… I’m gonna be busting some UA asses tomorrow~!”

Then, his scowl deepening, his body easily lifted out of the tub to grab a towel and his robe, UA’s out of hours phone line ringing over the quieter music of the room as he prepared to leave it.

If anything had happened to his trainee then there’d be hell to pay…

~*~

Kuma Bartholomew long regretted the career path he’d taken; at first, he’d thought that looking after Government Assets and helping to nurture them into heroes would be a valuable cause.

“What time d’you call this, huh?!”

The money hadn’t been half bad, either…

“It’s about God damned time you got here, pal!”

However, the realities of such things weren’t as productive, glamourous or rewarding as he’d hoped; especially when the problem-children he was saddled with couldn’t just do as they were told and follow the rules they were given.

Tch, Aizawa Shouta had been one of his few saving graces but now even he was giving him trouble.

“It’s nearly midnight, you know” he grunted, his eyes narrowed as he double locked his car, his gaze glaring at the shady people lurking around the neighbourhood before he turned his full attention to the three Pro Heroes stood outside of the apartment complex, the desire to roll his eyes almost overpowering. “I was sleeping, Aizawa probably is and he’s more than capable of looking after…”

“Finish that statement, I dare you” His Purple Highness hissed; “me, you and your boss are gonna have one hell of a meeting tomorrow” he warned: “why the f*ck wasn’t I told about that boy’s circ*mstances?” he ground out as they all made their way inside the dimly light, graffiti tagged lobby.

“He’s over sixteen” the bear-headed man shrugged; “he’s not a minor…”

“He’s still a kid!” the woman (Trailblazer, if he remembered correctly; she was a tech-genius and a brawler who could set her fists on fire) sneered at him, her pretty, glitter accented face pinched with annoyance; “and he was under our care, so…”

“Look” he grumped; “he’s screened annually for his emotional wellbeing and, every time, he’s passed his psyche evals with flying colours” he said: “that, and there’s only so much funding we have to spend” he reminded, his form lumbering up the stairs with the Pros stomping behind him. “Plus, he’ll be eighteen in no time and ready to graduate next summer” he huffed; “I really think you’re blowing this situation out of proportion” he added, his furry ears flicking in annoyance.

“Yeah, well… as his Sponsor, I think the least you can do is let us into his apartment since he’s not answered our calls or responded to us knocking on his door” the Purple Revolution’s leader grunted, his hands jammed in his trousers’ pockets.

Snorting, the oldest of the four people clattering up the stairs reached into his jacket’s inner-lining, the spare keys to the asset’s apartment jangling free as they approached the door.

“And what the f*ck is all this… mess?” the third hero (he couldn’t be bothered to think of the tall man’s name or abilities; all he really wanted to think about was his bed) asked, a sparkly gloved hand gesturing at the graffiti marking the teen’s door.

“Tch, you see this kind of stuff everywhere these days” he stated with a shrug, his human hand knocking loudly on the door; “oi~! Aizawa~! Open up~!” he shouted, another few hard slams going along for good measure.

“We’ve already—”

“Aizawa~!” he kept on; “tch… he’s a heavy sleeper, I’ll give him that much” he grunted: “we’re coming in~!”

Jamming the key into one lock after the other, the Government official pushed the door open, flipped the light switch on the side and blinked…

“Shouta-kun, it’s…”

Feeling the heroes push him to one side, Kuma looked around the empty, stifling (the heat was intense without the windows open) studio room; the futon was still set up as a couch, no electrical devices were on, the bathroom was empty and the few items in the refrigerator and cupboards were untouched.

There was no sign of his phone but his clothes, school-bag, sleeping bag and a selection of stuffed toys were still where they should be; his toothbrush, hairbrush and hero uniform, complete with ‘capture weapon’, were similarly neatly housed.

“Call the police…”

“W-what, no just… just wait a second” he baulked (because this wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be); “he might be sleeping over at…”

“All of his friends are abroad” His People Highness ground out; “it was his boyfriend who called me, his boyfriend, a kid, who knew that your ward was missing~!” he spat, his phone already out, his personal contact at Musutafu police HQ flashing up with a tap of his fingers: “so help me Lord, if anything has happened to…”

“Oi!”

Blinking, the group (two of the heroes very carefully moving around so as not to disturb any evidence, Trailblazer using some kind of scanner) turned back to the doorway; a grubby looking man with grey-eyes and loose-fitting clothes was loitering there, another man with a fox-features quirk leaning on the other; “what’s wit alla noise, ah?”

Stepping back as the Pro and his associates prowled forward, Kuma was stuck between his panic (‘I’m going to lose my f*cking job over this!’) and his concern (‘oh sh*t! If he’s dead I could face jail time!’) whilst the group’s leader passed his phone to the woman, his unimpressed gaze sizing up the new comers.

“You boys wouldn’t happened to have seen Aizawa Shouta, by any chance?”

“Aizawa, eh?” the fox-eared man mused; “you mean the kid who lives here, right?” he asked, his jade eyes narrowing at them slightly: “how do I know that you chumps aren’t here to rob the place, huh?”

“Tch… doesn’t look like there’s much to steal” he friend (tall, broad, a sh*t eating grin spreading his lips) mused; “you guys lookin’ for him?”

“We’d also like to know what you’re doing here” His Purple Highness pushed, his arms folding whilst, behind him, he could her Trailblazer making the report.

“We’re… a kind of neighbourhood watch” the tailed man shrugged, his hand gesturing outside of the room they were all crowded around; “you see any Pro Heroes lining up to keep the people who live ‘ere safe, ah?” he asked, his lips quipping in a sneer. “Current company excluded, of course” he snorted.

“Be that as it may” the purple outfitted male stated (he couldn’t deny what the foxy man had said); “we are looking for him” he stated: “when was the last time you saw him?”

Humming, the intruders regarded each other, it was the grey-haired man who answered; “you know, now that you mention it… it was a while ago” he said; “I last saw him with a kid floating on a cloud, ugh… sh*t, that’s gotta be last week or, ugh, maybe the week before” he explained. “They seemed pretty sweet on each other” he furthered; “I don’t think he lives around here, though” he added, his expression thoughtful: “he’s… about this tall, pretty loud… heh, you know a kid like that?”

“We do” the mocha-skinned fighter nodded; “he’s the one who raised the alarm…”

“Pft, I wouldn’t worry” the vulpine quirked male shrugged; “it’s not like that boy lives here full time, right? I mean… he goes to that fancy-pants UA school, don’t he?” he asked: “no parents in their right minds would let a kid like that live here full time, right?” he edged. “So, I figure he’s gone home for the summer… I mean, lots of students who wanna be heroes live miles away, don’t they… cus come on, alla that travellin’ and studyin can’t mix” he offered. “Yep, I bet he just stays here for term-time, or something” he said through a yawn; “I mean… who’d just let a kid like that stay in a place like this with no one else around to look out for him, nah?”

Feeling his hands ball into fists, His Purple Highness turned a menacing glare upon the bear-headed man sweating bullets behind him.

“That’s exactly what I want to know…”

~*~

VivaItalia: “HPH hasn’t gotten back to you, huh?”

Staring at his phone (Nemuri was off in the mountains somewhere so, since her cell-reception sucked, she’d insisted that they all meet in a private-chat room that her Nona’s ancient laptop could handle), Oboro was trying not to be stressed, worried or annoying.

His mother had had a quiet word with him whilst they were out shopping; he’d not meant to ignore his dad talking to him but he just couldn’t get Shouta off of his mind…

NY_Cloud: “he said he would, he said he’d text as soon as he found him…”

LA_Baby!: “maybe he doesn’t wanna text you so late… it’s gotta be what, two a.m. back home right now, hasn’t it?

NY_Cloud: “well yeah, but…”

VivaItalia: “come on Oboro, this is Shouta we’re talking about 😊 … I bet he’s teamed up with All Might and is running around, saving the day n’stuff!”

LA_Baby!: “Ha! That sounds like our boy~!”

NY_Cloud: “But he’s…”

LA_Baby!: “Maa~! Look, you really want the low-down, let me look up his parents… I can totally bug the phone and make you sound like one of our teachers so you BAMF bf doesn’t think you’re checking up on him~!

NY_Cloud: “…”

VivaItalia: “???”

LA_Baby!: “Boro-bro… you okay?”

NY_Cloud: “can you guys keep a secret?”

VivaItalia: “of course…”

LA_Baby!: “I’m startin to freak out a lil… but yeah, you know it, man…”

NY_Cloud: “Shou… is an orphan, guys…”

VivaItalia: “wait… what?”

LA_Baby!: “dude… this isn’t a joke or a prank or anything, is it?”

VivaItalia: “he wouldn’t joke about something like this…”

NY_Cloud: “it’s true… I only found out because we went back to his apartment on our first date and… and it’s not in a great… area, either…”

LA_Baby!: “why are we only just findin out about this…”

VivaItalia: “Zashi…”

LA_Baby!: “no, I mean it… we’re his best friends… we should know sh*t like this… why… why wouldn’t he trust us…”

VivaItalia: “I don’tthink…”

LA_Baby!: “I tell him everything… I’ve told him lots of sh*t, you know, about my folks and… and I wouldn’t’ve jjust offloaded like that at him if Id have known that he didn’t…

NY_Cloud: “he didn’t want you treat him any differently…”

LA_Baby!: “I WOULDN’T HAVE!”

VivaItalia: “Zashi! We all know that… just… just take a breath… calm down… Shou will have had his reasons… and we can’t judge him for that…”

LA_Baby!: “I’M NOT JUDGING HIM! I… I’m just… I would have been there for him more, you know? I… he means so much to me… to us… I… I can’t believe that I didn’t know…”

~*~LA_Baby! changed their name to Present_Mic~*~

Present_Mic: “all bets are off… finding Shou is a mission now…”

~*~NY_Cloud and VivaItalia changed their names to LoudCloud and Midnight~*~

Present_Mic: “I’m gonna start scouring CCTV… LC, can you send me his address?”

LoudCloud: “on it…”

Midnight: “I’m gonna go call my brother… he’s a detective in the next Prefecture over but he’ll know people in Musutafu…”

Chapter 13: Assessment...

Chapter Text

How could it possibly be three weeks since anyone had either seen or heard from Aizawa Shouta?

“Honey… I know that you’re worried, but…”

“Mom” he breathed, his eyes tearing; “mom he… he could be…”

“Hey… hey, oh, sweetheart…”

He’d been unable to leave his hotel room (he’d begged his parents to just go out without him so that they could treat his little brother to everything he wanted for a change), his laptop and phone were always on and that terrible, awful feeling that’d started nibbling at his stomach had taken over his whole body.

Even his mother hugging him, her gentle hands stroking through his hair, did little to soothe him…

“You’ve got to let the Pros do their jobs, baby” the woman holding him as she’d done whenever he’d had a nightmare in his youth murmured; “Kayama-chan’s brother is doing everything he can, too… and UA have brought in most of their staff to help find him, haven’t they?”

“B-but… they… he’s not on the news… there should be a…”

“I’m sure they have their reasons for keeping the press out of this” she assured, her body rocking slightly as they sat on the twin bed that’d become his base-camp for operation ‘find Shou’, a light drizzle pattering at the window just across from them, the grey sky perfectly mirroring the sadness pecking away at him.

“Do you think Shouta-kun would want you worrying yourself sick?”

Sniffing (yeah, he’d not been eating properly; he knew that Hizashi (who’d been offline for hours) and Nemuri (who kept spamming him with updates) were panicking just as much as he was now: he… he shouldn’t have told them, should he? Now their vacations were ruined and their families were probably getting on at them about being stressed and worrying about things they couldn’t do anything about), Oboro sighed.

“He saved my life, mom” he breathed; “and he’s been saving me ever since and I… I don’t know if he’s alive or… or…”

*Knock-knock*

Blinking (his dad was probably back from wherever he and his little brother had gone; he should apologise to the man but… but right now he couldn’t: his father was so rarely home, his calls always so short and, if he was getting pissy because they weren’t having family-time, then so what?), the younger Shirakumo turned back to his laptop.

Hopefully his mom (who he loved and he knew she meant well, but…) would talk him down from demanding that he leave the room and…

“H-hey bro…”

W-hat?

Baulking, his body jerking towards the door so fast he nearly toppled off of the mattress, Oboro was up and moving before his brain could register what was happening; “Z-Zashi?”

Wrapping the sunny blonde in a tight hug that was enthusiastically returned, the cloud quirk user couldn’t hold back his tears this time, his nose burying into the other teen’s damp, denim clad shoulder; “w-what… how, I…”

“Heh… Yama-dad can be a real jerk sometimes but he comes through when it counts” the green-eyed boy breathed, his tear-soaked face stuffed against his friend’s neck; “he saw me losing my mind and… and thought it’d be better if we lost our minds together, you know?” he tried to laugh as they pulled away. “Y-your folks have been real good, too… ugh… they set the whole thing up with him and… and then I was at LAX, on a plane and then your dad picked me up and…” he shrugged a little helplessly, his hands gesturing at the bags he’d left near the door; “surprise?”

And what a f*cking amazing surprise it was…

He almost couldn’t believe it…

“Yamada-kun will be staying here with you, alright? We’ve got Kenji-chan a camp-bed in our room so you two can work hard without any interruptions” his mother called, her face awash with kindness and emotion as she watched them; “we’ll be coming by with lunch in a few hours though, and you’re both going to have a break, eat and shower, okay?”

“Y-yeah… t-thanks mom…”

“T-thanks again, Shirakumo-san~!”

Smiling, she offered a quick bow and stepped out of the room, the door clicking softly in her wake.

“God I… I’m so… so f*cking glad to see you, man” the blue-eyed hero trainee stuttered, his own laugh stifled by grief, a hand gripping the slightly shorter teen’s shoulder whilst swiping at the moisture on his face; “c-come on… let me show you what Nemuri’s nii-san sent over…”

~*~

Aizawa Shouta had almost forgotten what a normal life was like…

“Pardon the interruption, but Sensei has requested that you meet him in the garden.”

Every day seemed to roll and blend into each other; breakfast at 07:00, lessons (just the basics, thank God; Tenko had an online tutor for the most important things) ran from 07:30 – 10:30, then they trained (exercises, kata and quirk manipulation) from 10:30 – 12:00, ate lunch and played whatever games Tenko wanted for the afternoon. The evening meal was served at 17:30 and, from 18:00, he was expected to prepare interesting lessons (without the internet or a computer; one of Sensei’s servants led him too and from the home’s library), make his daily report (via the screen in his room), train (under observation) and relax…

“Eh? The garden? Tch… s’too sunny outside… Shou-nii~ I don’ wanna~ we’re supposed to be reading~!”

So, his eyes leaving the manga page he was about to start (the boy (who wasn’t always terrifying; he had disintegrated a Nomu servant just to show off to him, though) enjoyed being read to, especially since he changed his voice for different characters), Shouta immediately felt his hackles raise at the change of pace.

As usual, Kurogiri’s expressionless face gave nothing away.

sh*t…

“Come on Ten-kun” he tried to smile (the kid really liked having a nick-name and did what he was asked without kicking up a fuss when he used it), his body gently (and f*cking carefully) nudging the tyke off of his lap (from where they’d both been sat on a huge bean-bag); “let’s not keep him waiting, alright?”

Rolling his eyes, his chapped lips mumbling “it was just getting to a good part, too”, the child grabbed for his hand (and he totally activated his quirk on purpose, it wasn’t a reflex reaction he’d built up for survival purposes) and pulled him along, his little legs skipping a touch.

The kid liked that he could help him control his power, at least.

“Maa~ Kuro-kuro~ why have we got to go to the garden~? Can you get me an umbrella~ oh~ and cola~ I want a cola, too~”

“Of course, Tenko-sama” the gaseous butler replied with a bow, his tall, elegant form leading them from the study, through a few hallways and towards an open patio, the light and hot air drifting in from the outside.

Hell, he agreed with his charge; going outside in the heat wasn’t his idea of fun, either… especially when the whole house (his room included) had climate control.

“Please make your way to the pavilion” the oldest of the three stated, those haunting, lemon eyes narrowing at him; “be sure to go straight there, Shouta-kun…”

Scowling at the creature (who’d left him alone, for the most part), Sensei’s warning about breaking his legs whispering darkly in the back of his mind, he didn’t dignify the other with a response, his head turning to the raised dais where he could see his owner sitting.

Tch, be sure to go straight there, huh?

“Ugh~ I hate grass… it’s so squishy and there’re bugs in it~ one day I’m a gonna squash all’a the bugs~” the child now swinging from his arm (that wasn’t decaying, thank God); “neh~ Sensei~ it’s too hot to be outside~!”

Steeling himself (because there was something really off-putting about the villain so innocently sitting there under the shade of a large parasol, a cup of tea resting on the table which matched the chair he sat in), Shouta allowed the child to run from him to his adoptive father, his form following at a more sedate pace.

There was no one else around…

There were no gates or fences…

There was ample cover in the tress…

‘Tch, that’s exactly what he wants you to think’ his mind supplied as he reached the platform, his bare feet meeting the warm stone and standing a few feet away whilst Tenko jumped into the other seat, Kurogiri’s form swirling to life next to him with his preferred soda. ‘Why not just tie a collar and leash around my neck and be done with it?’

“Forgive me for disturbing your fun, my boy” the masked man murmured affectionately, a gloved hand ruffling the boy’s hair; “but you’ve been progressing very nicely and I felt it was time for an… assessment of sorts” he said.

The words turned Shouta’s blood to ice despite the oppressive heat weighing down on them.

“Assessment?! But Sensei~”

“You’ll enjoy it, you’ll see” the suit-wearer (and how was he not boiling in it?) chuckled as he stood with a stretch, his faithful cane helping to walk him towards one of the sheds; “come along, you two.”

Swallowing thickly, his gaze briefly shifting to Kurogiri’s (it was either his imagination or that bastard was laughing under his breath), the erasure quirk user slowly followed, his form wary whilst Tenko walked next to his mentor, his cola all but drank.

“Would you do the honours, my boy?”

“Eh? Oh… you want me to destroy the doors?”

“Please do.”

Blinking, the butler materialising beside him, Shouta moved closer to the shed, his teeth clenching together when the other’s cold, vaporous hand clasped his shoulder.

If he hadn’t, then he would have run for certain…

“Mmmpph~!!”

For there, tied up and struggling in the stifling, wooden structure, sat four police officers, their eyes pleading and tearing.

“N-no” he breathed.

“Umm? Ahh, that’s just like you, Aizawa-kun” Sensei chuckled; “you’ve already figured out the assessment, ah?”

He felt his head shaking, his legs torn between running forward to help them or kicking out at the fiend who’d trapped them there or grabbing for Tenko and sprinting towards the trees.

He couldn’t do any of those things, though…

“Tch, what’re you wasting your time with these Government dogs for, Sensei?” the child huffed, his chapped lips pouting; “they’re small fries, right?”

“Yes” the cane wielding man agreed; “however… these particular dogs were sniffing around our property” he sighed, his head inclining towards the boy: “they’d come here to take your big brother away…”

Gasping, his mouth opening, Shouta found most of his body wrapped up by Kurogiri, those ghostly tendrils of vapour shoved past his lips, stopping any sound he wanted to make.

His eyes were covered…

He couldn’t stop what was about to happen…

He couldn’t beg Tenko to disobey…

“Eh?” he heard the child ask; sh*t, he could hear the other walking towards the shed, he could hear the police officers begging behind their gags: “you wanted to take Shou nii from me?”

‘No… no, no, no… please… please don’t do this~!’

“Uummpphhh~!!”

‘Don’t make me the reason that they—’

Then… aside from his own thundering heart-beat, he heard nothing…

“Very good, my boy~!”

Gasping as he was released, Shouta fell to his knees, his eyes landing (he didn’t want to see… he didn’t want to see) on the shed.

Tenko was stood there, his feet clouded by dust.

He was smiling.

Chapter 14: I AM HERE~!

Chapter Text

There was a ringing in his ears, in his head…

Tenko had asked him why he was crying…

Sensei had told the child it was because he was so grateful to be saved…

Sensei had told the child that he was overcome by the gesture…

Sensei was telling the child what a good job he’d done…

Sensei offered the child a bowl of ice-cream as a reward…

He’d not been able to say anything…

He’d numbly accepted the child’s hug and watched as he skipped back to the house, telling him not to take too long…

Telling him that he wanted to hear the rest of the story from the manga they were reading…

Kurogiri was following the six-year-old, an umbrella dutifully held over him, as he asked for chocolate sauce and sprinkles…

“Tell me, Aizawa-kun” the villain stood beside him began slowly, his voice soft; “why are you distraught?”

God… what a stupid, disgusting, vile thing to ask!

“T-they…” he breathed, his eyes screwing shut, his hands fisting in the grass as he keeled over, his sobs shaking him even as he tried to regulate his air intake, a hiccup or two rattling him in his distress; “t-they we-er j-just… do-ing thei-r j-jobs” he managed. “T-they di-dn de-serve to-o die… like-e that…” he furthered, his anger slowly but surely pushing his self-preservation to the side, his head snapping up, his gaze accusing; “why don’t you care at all~?!” he spat. “How can you teach a child to do that?! You heard him! He was right! They were no threat to you~!” he snapped; “isn’t just living hard enough for people?! Who gave you the right to do such awful, awful things on a whim, just because you can?!”

Humming in the back of his throat, the villain shrugged a little, completely unphased by his ire, by his accusations.

If he was angered by him having activated his quirk (something that he’d only just realised himself), then he certainly wasn’t showing it.

“They didn’t deserve to die like that, you say?” he mused; “hmm… it was relatively quick and painless but frightening, I’ll grant you” he allowed: “they do know and understand that their lives are forfeit under the current Government’s policies concerning policing, though, therefore was it underserved?” he enquired, his tone blasé and collected. “Why don’t I care? Well, why should I? What were those men to me? They were trespassers, intruders who were in the way and so, they were removed, it is that simple” he furthered mildly.

Swallowing thickly, Shouta felt his anger shrink and ice over as the other kept talking, his quirk blinking away from the shock thrumming through him.

“As for teaching Tenko to use his power, it is my duty, my responsibility to prepare him for his role in the new world that’ll rise from the ashes of the old” he said; “he offers a swift death to his foes… it is a kindness that those who oppose him will not deserve but that is the point of it” he explained. “We do not do what we must out of malice, Aizawa-kun… we do it for a better world… a world free from this saturation of heroes, the imposition of rules and the forced order that restricts people from truly living as they want to” he explicated.

Then, the other leaned a little on his cane, his tall, broad former looming over him.

“Also… it was me, I gave myself the right to do such awful things” he crooned, a laugh lingering on the words; “I gave myself that right because I could” he alighted, his head co*cking to the side as he appraised the boy he’d abducted: “do you have any more questions to ask of me, hmm?”

“Remember students” he heard his homeroom teacher in the back of his mind; “against the insane, there is no defence… you will not be able to argue, persuade or reason with some of the villains you’re likely to encounter in your careers…”

Heh…

If he ever met that man again, then he’d be sure to tell him that he didn’t know the half of it.

"Well?"

He shook his head, his eyes returning to the lawn; he figured “when can I go home?” wouldn’t be received well, after all.

“Ahh, then perhaps you’ll answer one or two of mine, hmm?”

Blinking, a firm hand clapping onto his shoulder, Shouta flinched, his mind waiting for some kind of violence as those gloved fingers drummed upon the thin material that would offer very little protection to his flesh.

He didn’t know what kind of quirk (quirks? For all he knew, the villain could have multiple ones; hadn’t he told him that he’d wanted to take his?) Sensei had but he could feel the power roiling underneath that suit.

It was like a primal fear, a voice in his hind-brain screaming that was he in danger.

“Let us go back inside first, hmm?” the fiend crooned; “don’t try to cover your mouth…”

“W-wha—!!”

Choking in horror, the raven-haired teen found grey liquid jetting from his throat, the sensation terrifying, sickening and disorientating all at once.

Then, as quickly as it’d come (he felt as though he’d been thrown from a rollercoaster), the liquid swallowed him and dissipated, leaving him standing owlishly in the library, his whole body prickling with pins and needles.

“Come take a seat then, Aizawa-kun” Sensei stated as breezily as someone who’d just enjoyed a pleasant, leisurely walk; “we have much to discuss…”

~*~

Oboro knew on a certain level that Yamada Hizashi was a natural-born genius, however…

“Y-you… you’ve managed to contact A-All Might?”

Grinning whilst cracking his knuckles, Present Mic grinned at him, the pair of them sat next to each other on one of the twin beds of the room they shared; in less than a week’s time, they’d both be heading home to Japan and Nemuri was virtually on her way…

“Heh… yeah~!” the green eyed teen preened, his hands gesturing around the (completely broken apart and rebuilt by him to meet his needs) laptop he carried everywhere with him, the contact details for Yagi Toshinori flashing up before them; “who better to set on Shouta’s tail than the number one hero, right?”

“You’re amazing~!” the taller teen stated, his eyes glittering; “if he’s onboard then people are bound to take his disappearance seriously~!” he gushed, an arm wrapping about the lither boy’s shoulders in an affectionate squeeze: “what has he said?”

“Umm” Hizashi murmured, the pair of them narrowing their gazes on the screen.

“I’m not sure how you got this number but, you’re being blocked…”

“What?!”

“Nnnoooo~!!”

“Wait, please~! Yagi-senpai~! We met back in May when you came to UA~!” the blonde furiously typed; “PLEASE~! We wouldn’t contact you unless it was urgent~!”

“…”

“sh*t! Zashi~! Do something~!” the cloud quirk user begged; “we can’t let him…”

“Ahh~ UA students, huh?” the Symbol of Peace replied; “okay, let’s say that I believe you” the muscle-bound warrior typed back: “what is so important that you’d hack into my private number, hmm?” he asked. “This is a little much” he furthered; “I did sign a lot of autographs during my last visit~!

Huffing, the pair sharing and exasperated sigh, the palest haired teen gently nudged his best friend to one side, his fingers tapping at the keys; “Yagi-san” he typed: “my name is Shirakumo Oboro and, on your last visit, you offered my boyfriend, Aizawa Shouta, a place at your Agency…”

“Oh?! Ahh~! Yes, Shirakumo-kun~!”

“Thank God he remembers you” Hizashi huffed, the relief in his tone palpable.

“Heh… I don’t think that it’s me he remembers” the other murmured, his eyes watching the message-screen, his brows furrowing slightly; he remembered Shouta lying across his futon, that head of fluffy, raven-hair in his lap as they talked about what’d happened that day, the other’s expression deadpanned as he wondered why All Might would offer him such an irrational thing.

God…

God he missed him…

He had to be alright, he had to be…

“What can I do for you? Did Aizawa-kun change his mind about the placement and is too shy to ask me himself, hmm?”

sh*t…

sh*t!!

How he wished that was the case.

“Yagi-san” he typed, his fingers shaking, Hizashi’s comforting hand rubbing across his back doing little to settle him; “Shouta’s missing…”

“…”

“We… me and his best friends we… we’re doing everything we can but… but no one is telling us anything and it’s been three weeks” he wrote, his eyes squeezing shut; “I… please… if there is anything you can do… if you know anyone we can contact…”

“Shirakumo-kun” the other typed; “thank you for bringing this to my attention” he continued, the teens watching the screen intensely, their breath held: “I will look into this matter immediately, you have my word” he assured them.

“Please save my contact details and keep to this private line” he advised; “I will be in contact with you again when I have more information to share with you…”

~*~

His Purple Highness was just about ready to riot…

“There is no CCTV coverage that validates his movements beyond passing the convenience store approximately 0.5 miles away from his apartment complex… there have been no ransom demands, no social-media coverage and no bodies matching his general profile have been discovered, either.”

Three weeks had elapsed since the last people to see his trainee alive and well (the children’s care-facility manager had been beside himself when he was questioned; he’d known Shouta since he’d become a permanent resident at the home when he was ten) had given their reports. The other orphans were distressed, the administrative staff had offered them every piece of video-footage they had and all of their statements read the same; “Aizawa-kun left and walked home at 21:07… he’d waved them good bye and promised to return on Tuesday…”

“Our best trackers may have found something if we’d have known about his abduction sooner.”

They’d searched high, low and everywhere in between; the missing teen’s train-pass was found in a pair of his cargo pants, his bus pass was in a wallet holding a few, love-worn photographs of his friends, 500 yen and lint…

“You can’t say it’s an abduction, Itsu… there isn’t enough evidence to suggest that.”

And then there was this mother-f*cker who was (allegedly the head of asset welfare) clearly trying his best to avoid even the slightest bit of responsibility (blame).

Prince had never been closer to snapping someone in half in his life…

“Then what are you s-s-suggesting?” the principle snipped, her tone decidedly furious (thank God; at least the school seemed to be giving more of a damn); “that he s-s-sprouted wings and flew away?” she sneered, her pretty face pinched with anger. “Aizawa S-s-shouta is a model s-s-student with limited funds and nowhere else to go” she reminded the room of idiots who were making his and the polices’ work unnecessarily difficult; “we have collaborated reports from the residents of his tower block that they knew he was a UA s-s-student” she stated. “We cannot rule out that a villain or even an antagonistic organisation didn’t take him as he walked home” she furthered, her eyes narrowing. “His welfare s-s-should be your priority but, instead, you’re s-s-sat their trying to defend your position…”

“Oh?” the pencil-looking pencil-pusher sneered; “I am trying to defend my position?” he huffed: “so says the woman who’s thrown a gag-order at the press!” he snapped, his hand banging on the board-room’s long, highly polished wooden table. “You don’t want word getting out that UA has failed in it’s duty to protect the students it’s training, Hebiko-sama” he jeered; “you’re just as likely to lose your job over this as I am to lose mine, aren’t you, you—”

“That is enough!” His Purple Highness yelled, his form standing up so quickly and with such force that the chair he’d been using fell int pieces behind him; “I don’t care about your lousy jobs!” he told them, his eyes narrowing: “what I care about is a seventeen-year-old boy who is God knows where with only God knows what happening to him!” he snarled. “He’s more than just an intelligent kid with a great skill-set and an incredibly useful quirk” he continued, his eyes staring them all down; “he’s a human being who’s probably lived through more sh*t than anyone of us could ever comprehend” he breathed. “And he needs us now, we are his guardians, we are meant to be the people he can turn to, we’re meant to keep him safe, not the other way around, I…”

“I AM HERE~!”

Baulking, his head turning around to the double doors (that were now swinging off of their hinges), Prince felt his eyes widen, the room at large gasping.

“A-All Might?”

“My side-kick and I” the tall, muscular blonde called, his hand gesturing at a more reserved Sir Nighteye, the pair walking swiftly into the room whilst a few of their entourage quickly set about righting the doors (normal furnishings weren’t designed to contain such a powerhouse, after all); “are here and we want to offer our assistance~!”

“W-well, that is” the Government Sponsor Representative said, his form deflating; “v-very good of you” he managed, his brows furrowing.

Keeping this news out of the spotlight would be ridiculously difficult now, wouldn’t it?

His superiors in Tokyo were going to have a conniption…

“Abe-sama~!” the mustard business suit wearing Symbol of Peace greeted, his head bowing respectfully at the headteacher; “we’ve been told that a student is missing” he continued, his fists clenching as the golden-eyed man next to him readjusted his glasses: “we would be most grateful to learn more about the situation, please~!”

Chapter 15: Plans...

Chapter Text

Sitting across from the imposing, black-masked figure, a highly-varnished, oaken-table (old, fancy, antique) the only barrier between them in the book encrusted room with a singular, curtained window, Aizawa Shouta found himself actually wanting to return to Tenko’s play-room…

“Now then, my boy, I was wondering what the reasoning behind this was.”

Blinking, his eyes widening, the erasure quirk user watched as his captor reached into one of the desk’s draws (which he couldn’t see from where he was sat) and pulled out his capture weapon, the reems of white, specially-crafted fabric (something he’d always be grateful to the R&D department for) now resting before him.

“For all intents and purposes, this is a remarkable piece of engineering and you wielded it with great skill against Garvey and during UA’s Sports Festival” the fiend admitted; “but, why?”

“I… I don’t understand what you’re asking” he replied, his brows furrowed; “I don’t have enhanced speed, strength or durability and… I don’t want to be a burden to anyone during a fight” he said, the sting of past fears and anxieties revisiting his psyche: “everyone else on the Hero Course is… physically stronger and mostly faster than I am…”

“So… instead of going for a much simpler solution” the other offered, a chuckle leaving his lips as he placed another item onto the glossy, wooden surface, its presence causing Shouta to gasp; “you developed this, instead?”

Carefully regarding the gun (a pistol, his brain supplied; the smaller kind of gun that Snipe trained with), the younger of the pair nodded.

“How very strange” the suit wearer mused; “that someone who lives so logically would overlook a tool this useful in favour of exerting themselves needlessly” he stated, that covered countenance seeming to narrow at him: “pick it up…”

“N-no” he said, his hands balling in his lap.

“Ha! Aizawa-kun, you are so very entertaining~!” the other laughed; “you have an opportunity to smite me right before you and yet you choose not to?”

“A-a gun wouldn’t be enough to… you’re…”

“Yes but with your power activated I would be defenceless, wouldn’t I?” the broader male purred out, his hands raised in surrender; “anyone who challenged you would be defenceless, wouldn’t they?”

“I’m not like you” the teenager breathed, his head shaking; “I don’t want to kill people… I just want to stop them from hurting others and committing crimes” he stated curtly, his head inclining towards the cloth: “my capture weapon and fighting style allows me to do that…”

“And if I chose to take your quirk from you” the other pushed; “if I crippled you, what then?”

Baulking at the cool, conversational threat, Shouta swallowed, a tremble tripping down his spine.

“What good would you be to yourself or anyone else, hmm?”

“I… I wouldn’t” he murmured softly, the dread of being rendered useless and (he shuddered) dependent shaking through him, his eyes screwing shut.

‘Don’t be such a coward’ his braver side tried to argue; ‘there are still hundreds of people born with physical difficulties… you could overcome any obstacles you’d face… you could’ he tried to argue through the fear: ‘don’t let him convince you that you couldn’t… there are organisations who could help you… aren’t there?’

But…

But, if he wasn’t Sponsored to complete the Hero Course, if UA released him on medical-grounds, then he’d be penniless, homeless… homeless and lacking any qualifications to get him even a basic job in a world where getting a basic job even when you were able bodied was exceedingly difficult…

‘Please don’t… please don’t… please don’t do that to me…’ he mentally begged.

“Pick up the gun, Aizawa-kun.”

But… but could he really go along with what this villain wanted in exchange for his wellbeing? Wasn’t that wrong? Didn’t that go against the hero code, the ideals of the career he (still) hoped to have, his ideals as a person?

“P-please… I, I don’t…”

The gun could be evidence in a crime…

It could have been used to kill people…

His fingerprints plastered over it could…

“I’m not asking again” Sensei murmured, the softness of his tone hardening; “you are mine, boy, and you know what’ll happen if you don’t follow my rules, don’t you?” he furthered: “or do you need reminding?” he purred, his body slowly standing. “Who would you like me to bring here to suffer, hmm? Which one of your friends…”

He reached for the weapon, his arm moving almost without him thinking, his fingers clasping the item (around the barrel, was that what it was called? Since quirks came to the fore in society, such archaic weaponry wasn’t really covered in schools beyond history lessons; well, not until the final stages of a hero course unless a student used a modified version of such things as a quirk enhancer), pulling it towards him.

Heh…

Maybe he should turn it on himself…

“Good boy” the other praised; “so, what do you think? How does it feel?”

“C-Cold” he managed, his eyes staring unseeingly at the thing; “heavy…”

“It’s magnificent, isn’t it? The craftmanship, the artistry” Sensei crooned, his tone wistful; “back in my day, these were the deciders of life and death, freedom and imprisonment, power and weakness” he said, his body sitting back down with a sigh: “and they were available to anyone who wanted one… for a price” he explained. “So much fairer, so much better than having to play the genetic lottery but, I digress” he hummed; “you will be taught how to expertly aim and shoot this gift I’m giving you” he told his captive, his head tilting slightly: “it’s a GLOCK-19, 9mm semi-automatic with a 15 round-capacity magazine” he alighted. “You will become proficient with it…”

“W-what?” he asked, his eyes daring to meet the covered ones of the other; “I… please, I don’t…”

“What you want is irrelevant” the villain stated; “since you are mine, I need you strong… Tenko needs you strong” he shrugged: “he has grown very attached to you in this relatively short amount of time, just as I’d predicted, just as I’d hoped” he proclaimed. “Your place is at his side, as one of his protectors” he argued; “your place is living under my guidance and tutelage, yes, you are very much a part of our works, our family, now” he reasoned whilst leaning forward in his chair. “This is something to be celebrated” he cooed; “and, if you really think upon it, what I offer you is far superior to what they did, wouldn’t you agree?”

“It… it’s-s n—”

“Think, Shouta” the fiend cut in; “think!” he snapped: “are you really free outside of this house?” he pushed. “Truly free? That pitiful amount of yen you have, that box which masquerades as an apartment, those few, pitiful personal-effects you believe you own… are they actually yours?”

The erasure quirk user baulked, his body stunned, his fingers jittering over the pistol he held.

“They aren’t, are they?” the older huffed; “everything you own and everything you have, hell, everything you are belongs to Government Assets Program, is that not so?” Sensei asked, his elbows resting on the desk whilst he leaned closer still, the strange breathing apparatus that covered the lower half of his face now cushioned by overlapped hands. “So why not accept that you’ve traded in one cage for a better one?”

‘No… no, no, no…’

“Isn’t that the rational choice?”

‘S-someone… please… I… I don’t…’

“Well?”

‘sh*t… what… what can I do… there’s no point trying to shoot him’ his fatigued mind supplied; ‘it’s probably a trap anyway… I bet the stupid thing isn’t even loaded and, with Gigantomachia sunbathing outside, what chance would I have of leaving here? What’s worse… if it is loaded, if I somehow manage to hit him, then I’ll have become a killer… I’ll have crossed a line that there’s no coming back from’ he thought.

“I…”

‘No… no! Don’t think like that, I can’t give up! What would Oboro say? How could I look him and the others in the eye again? How can I call myself a hero if I don’t see this is an opportunity… yes, this is a chance to get on his good-side, if he has one… H-he may have trapped me and I’m f*cking terrified but… but I can’t let him break my resolve… I won’t…’ he promised himself; ‘but that doesn’t mean that I can’t bide my time… as awful as this is… as much as I don’t want to…’

“S-sensei” he said, his fingers trembling over the still cool metal under his hand; “I… I will do as you say” he stated (‘for the sake of my friends’ he whispered to himself), his eyes daring to meet those of the broader man: “I… I want to become stronger” (‘so I can get back to them and help the Pros to take you down…’ he pledged). “M-may I also have my capture weapon back, please?”

Chuckling (and Shouta could almost see the other’s smile behind that gunmetal-grate latched onto the old bastard’s face); “of course you can, my boy” he offered, the cloth snaking towards him with a gesture whilst the gun retracted to fit into the older male’s gloved hand. “I look forward to seeing you wield it and I’m certain Tenko will find it… amusing” he grinned; “run along back to him now” he instructed; “that graphic novel won’t read itself, after all, will it?”

Sucking in a breath, the younger stood (his legs quivering, but not as much as before), bowed (whilst offering a quite “t-thank you, sir”) and walked towards the library’s exit, the strands of his binding-cloth a comforting presence around his shoulders.

‘You can do this, Aizawa’ he told himself, his eyes briefly slanting at Kurogiri, the tall prick f*cking waving at him whilst he walked down the corridor; sh*t, he’d probably been there to carry out the villain’s threat of bringing…

‘No… no… you can’t afford to keep thinking about the consequences just… just keep going, one step, one hour, one day at a time’ he thought, his shaking hands straining into fists; ‘and trust that your friends will do the same…’

~*~

“I AM HERE~! I AM HERE~! I AM HERE~!”

Snorting awake (from where they’d collapsed into a kind of puppy-pile on one of the twin beds, both exhausted, neither having realised that they’d fallen asleep), Hizashi and Oboro stumbled into a kind of slumped, sitting position, their eyes snapping open as the blonde snagged his laptop that’d just chirped All Might’s most infamous ringtone.

Heh, did the man ever get sick of having to sell himself?

“I have great news, my friends~!”

“H-he does?!” the cloud quirk user breathed; “we’re here” he typed, his heart thundering in his ears: “have you found him? Is he okay—”

“Ah… well, my news, sadly, isn’t quite that great…”

Deflating, the taller boy slouched back onto the bed, his hand scrubbing uselessly at his tearing eyes.

sh*t, sh*t, sh*t!

“However~! Don’t lose heart~! His sim-card has finally been reactivated~!”

“Bro~! Bro~! Shou’s cellphone! They’ve found it~! It’s live~!” Hizashi breathed, his left-hand flailing at him whilst his right began to furiously type; “I should be able to pinpoint it myself if that’s the case~!”

“W-what… you can… seriously?” the blue eyed teen gasped, another few swipes at his eyes clearing them as he crowded the other boy; “wow… wow Zashi~! You’re incredible~!” he praised, their keen gazes following as a map of Japan popped up next to All Might’s message, a targeting square appearing.

Then, with just a few clicks and the sim-card's unique pin-number entered, the square zoomed in…

“W-western Tokyo?” Oboro breathed, his brows reaching for his hairline; “w-wait a minute… he was born in Tokyo, wasn’t he?”

“Heh, me too” the blonde replied, his smile spreading as he continued to triangulate and narrow down the trajectory.

“Ano… are you there?”

“Ah! Sorry… we were just waiting for more information from you” the green-eyed genius typed back before turning to his friend with a wink; “what I’m doing right now is technically illegal” he grinned fiercely.

Throwing his arm about the voice quirk user’s shoulders, the taller hero trainee gave him a fond squeeze; “Nemuri-chan’s mom could defend us in a court of law, so I’m not worried if you’re not” he tried to chuckle, their attention turning back to the hacked, live-map feed.

“Oh! Sorry for keeping you waiting, then~!” Yagi typed back; “he’s somewhere in Tokyo and we’re already on our way there~!”

“God… that’s a relief” Hizashi replied, both of them daring to relax a touch, the targeting square they were so intently watching hovering over a Province, trying to narrow down a Prefecture; “maa… isn’t there another, fancier hero school around here?” he asked his friend, his eyes widening. “You don’t think he’s been talent scouted and started moving without telling us, do you?”

“Jeez… the lack of sleep and peace of mind is really starting to get to you, man” Oboro huffed; “there’s no way he’d do that” he argued.

“Heh… yeah, yeah you’re right” the slightly younger sighed, his lashes fluttering; “it… it’d just be great if… if we’d just been, you know… worrying for nothing and that he was fine… that he was just somewhere because he w-wanted to be-e, you know…”

Strengthening the hold he had on his friend, another hug blooming between them, the cloud manipulator allowed a shuddering breath to leave him; “y-yeah… that, that’d be g-great” he acknowledged: “t-then he… he wouldn’t be ab-le to complain t-too much about-t us… kicking his ass-s for… for causing-g so much trouble… woul-d he?” he tried to laugh, his tears returning.

“Ha~! H-ha… an’… Shou bein’ Shou… he… he’d just give… give us one of those-e f-famous, deadpanned s-stares of h-his and… and call us i-idiots… wouldn’t he?” the lither male managed, his left hand shoving his glasses out of the way so that he could wipe his own eyes.

“I’ll be in touch as soon as we have him~! Try your best not to worry~!”

“Thank you! Yagi-senpai!” the blonde typed back; “we’ll leave the rest to you!” he added, the targeting square finally landing on an apartment block, an address pinging up before his fingers moved to co-track All Might’s phone.

He was fifteen minutes away.

“But please… if it’s not too much trouble, if he’s okay, can he please call us?”

“Of course, my friends~!” the number one Pro Hero typed back; “I should imagine that he’d be more than pleased to chat with the true heroes of this rescue!”

Chapter 16: Red-Herring...

Chapter Text

Coordinating with the police, his Agency staff wishing him luck as he jumped into a car with (would wonders never cease) All Might, His Purple Highness buckled up and let out a sigh of relief, his eyes momentarily drifting to the Pro sat next to him to offer a grateful nod before patching in a call to a friend of his near Shouta’s location.

Midnight (who’d arrived back home only a day ago) had begged to go with them, however, due to the uncertain nature of the situation, he’d given her a hug and left her with Trailblazer, the rest of his team and her older brother (a very competent detective who’d been a great deal of help regardless of his precinct being a Prefecture over).

“What d’you see, Oz?” he asked, his hands bringing the phone down to put the call on loud speaker, the driver of their vehicle expertly steering them through the light, 4pm traffic at a good speed, the disguised police vehicle’s lights flashing without the siren so that they could move as quickly and quietly as possible.

“There’re three people in the apartment, senpai” the vision quirk user replied, her form standing upon the roof of the apartment block across the road from where the missing boy’s simcard was live, the young woman’s eyes bulging from her rounded, ocular face as she switched out her infrared ability for thermal. “One of the body shapes in there is consistent with the description you gave me of the kid” she furthered; “but with the blinds closed, I can’t confirm a true visual” she added: “What’s your ETA?”

“We’re about an hour out” he sighed, his legs crossing to allow his left foot to wag in the air as his impatience grew; “call me back if he makes a move or someone visits him, alright?”

“You got it senpai… but try not to worry too much, alright? The cops are guarding the fire exits and plain-clothed officers are in the lobby and stairways, so no one is getting in or out of there without us knowing” she furthered; “see you soon~!”

“Ja ne, kohai” he replied, his tone fond regardless of the tension coiling inside of him.

‘Shouta’ he thought; ‘boy, I’m gonna hug you so hard that your ancestors will feel it’ he told him, his eyes briefly closing: ‘just hang on a little longer…’

“I can see why Aizawa-kun turned down my offer of hosting his internship, now.”

Blinking out of his thoughts, Prince turned to Japan’s number one Pro, his brows lifting; “excuse you?”

“Ahh~! Sorry, I was just thinking aloud, I suppose~!” the blonde smiled, his laugh just as booming as the rest of him; “he is very lucky to have a mentor as attentive as you are…”

“Tch, am I attentive?” the purple outfitted hero breathed, his foot wagging all of the faster whilst his irritation grew; “I didn’t know about his circ*mstances… I wasn’t aware of his home-life situation and, worse still? I never even thought to ask” he stated, his hand clenching around the phone he still held. “There are so many, many things that I regret now… I treated him like some spoiled, moody teenager who wasn’t focused enough… I reprimanded him in front of his friends when he made the wrong choices… I didn’t stop to think that his sullen attitude was a shield he used… a shield he’d made to keep himself distant” he murmured. “Distant because he’d didn’t have a family to keep him close… to love and guide him” he managed to grit out, the boy’s official-records flitting across his mind’s eye. The many failed foster placements, the way in which his parents (both only children, their own parents long since dead themselves) had died, the annual photos showing a lonelier and lonelier child frowning at the lens, those dark eyes becoming more jaded…

Gritting his teeth, he bowed his head, a glare narrowing at his irritatingly inactive phone; he could see an imperfect outline of his angry, concerned countenance reflected back at him on that mockingly blank, glassy surface.

“With respect, Mister-san” the broader warrior beside him said, his tone quieter and reserved; “you cannot blame yourself for what has happened” he reminded: “the blame lies on the nefarious bastards behind his disappearance” he huffed, his own arms folded across his impressive chest. “I’ll make you a deal, here and now, alright?”

“Hmm?”

“Once we find those responsible, we’ll be the ones to bring them to justice” he offered, the blue of his eyes darkening; “you have my word that, as his mentor, you’ll be a part of every step of the process” he confirmed: “these fiends, whoever they are, will be made to pay and pay most dearly for this… I promise…”

~*~

Staring at Hizashi’s laptop screen, All Might’s phone now on the same street as Shouta’s, Oboro tried not to hold his breath.

It’d just turned 3am, which meant that it was 5pm back home.

God, he was glad that the number one Pro had demanded that the police act quickly instead of waiting until night-fall.

“Is he there yet?!”

Looking at Nemuri’s texts (he’d left their blonde friend to chat with his partner, the dark-haired girl’s worry just as palpable as their own), the cloud quirk user rubbed at his eyes, the room-service coffee that the night porter had brought him all but gone.

“Looks that way” the green-eyed teen wrote back, his own drink (with seven sugars) barely keeping his eyes open; “where are you now?”

“Ugh~! It shouldn’t be taking this long” the broader of the two hero trainees grumped, his head shoving into the pillow he was cuddling; “come on, come on, come on…”

“At the Purple Revolution Agency… His Purple Highness said that he can’t call while the mission is running but Trailblazer is hacking into apartment block’s CCTV… so we should get some pictures soon…” Midnight typed back; “I wish I was there! If I had more than this stupid provisional licence then I could be!”

“Heh… we know how you feel, babe” Hizashi replied, his eyes fixed on the screen; “sh*t… it’s already been ten minutes” he grumbled: “what’s taking so long?”

~*~

“POLICE~! OPEN UP~!”

Mister Prince hadn’t relished the idea of hanging back; however, this being a residential block (hiding the boy in plain sight was either brilliantly clever or ridiculously stupid; the kidnappers would know that they couldn’t rush in, all guns blazing (so to speak) but this kind of building was easy to access and close off), he’d had to agree.

The last thing they needed was any innocents getting hurt and, if Shouta was being used as a hostage, then they couldn’t risk setting off his captors.

“P-police?!”

Growling, his body ready to prowl forward as a high-pitched, feminine voice called from the door, His Purple Highness was fully prepared to knock the door down to expose the ruse when…

“M-my goodness~! Shouji~! Shouji~! The police are here~!”

The barrier opened to reveal what looked to be just a regular citizen, her glasses covered eyes startled as she looked at the five, heavily armed officers crowded around her door, a man (her husband from the looks of things) rushing to stand behind her, their jaws dropping.

“E-Eh?! All M-Might?!” the man (again, so casual in his attire, his brow sweaty in the summer heat); “w-what’s going on, what’s happened?!” he gasped as the police officers moved in, their forms inviting them in and moving aside: “are we in some kind of danger, or…”

“We’re looking for Aizawa Shouta” the sergeant leading his officers stated curtly, his eyes shifting around as the Pros cautiously entered (this wouldn’t be the first time that villains had used trickery, costumes and quirks to fake a scene); “is he here?” he furthered, the most recent photograph of the boy being shown to them.

“A-Aizawa?” the woman blinked, her head shaking whilst her brows furrowed; “Sousuke-kun~! It’s alright, come out of your room and come here~!” she shouted whilst the officers scouted around the fifth-floor dwelling, a stocky, mousey haired boy shuffling on socked feet out of his bedroom, his bewildered eyes regarding the police carefully, his brow blue and sweating.

The kid looked guilty as sin; however, he chose to keep his mouth shut: he was still grappling with the fact that Shouta wasn’t there… that it wasn’t Shouta who’d come out of that room.

Oz had said that there were three people in the apartment…

He wasn’t here…

He wasn’t here…

“Sousuke” the woman (Mrs Katou, according to the id that her husband was showing to the sergeant from the wallets he’d plucked from a small table by the door containing keys, a few yen and a packet of mints) said, an arm wrapping around the boy (who looked to be about twelve or thirteen, his height the same as the teen they were looking for); “do you know this boy?”

“A-Ano…” the children breathed, his eyes narrowing; “n-no… never seen him before” he offered, his eyes sneaking back to his room, that guilty expression deepening.

“Ahh, young Sousuke~!” All Might greeted, a (huge) friendly hand landing on the boy’s shoulder, the shorter male’s eyes widening as the number one Pro looked down at him; “we have tracked our missing friend’s phone here” he told him, the kid’s look of wonder becoming rapidly uneasy again: “would you happen to have it?”

“T-that, that’s not possible” the woman replied, her own gaze now narrowing at the pre-teen; “Sousuke isn’t allowed to have a phone at the moment” she stated, her thin lips flat-lining: “he was cyber-bullying a child in his class and we decided that if he was old enough to do such an awful thing then he’d be old enough to live with the consequences” she furthered.

Bowing his head (and having the decency to look ashamed), the kid sniffled; “I… I said I was sorry” he muttered: “a-and I… I didn’t want to miss out on… on what everyone else was doing this summer…” he breathed: “s-so I… I bought a really cheap phone and a simcard off of J-Bay using dad’s special credit-card” he admitted, his toes poking at the carpet. “I’ve only used it once and… and I haven’t, you know… done anything bad I… I bought it fair and square and I… I didn’t know that it belonged to anyone else or… or that’d been stolen…”

Closing his eyes, his hands clenching into fists, His Purple Highness turned around and walked out of the door.

“Mister-san, we…”

“I’m gonna call the kids” he said over his shoulder, his voice strained whilst the sounds of the police asking for the phone and the J-Bay details of the seller wafting behind him whilst some others spoke to each other over their radios, the instruction to “stand-down” repeating flatly; “they… they’ll need to know…”

~*~

The rest of the week faded by them in a blur; they had no idea where Shouta was… the J-Bay account that’d sold his sim-card had been deleted and now the police were having to jump through hoops just to get the international auction site to give up the seller’s details.

He and Hizashi had spent most of their days huddled together, their eyes dull, their hearts broken.

His parents had tried their best to soothe them; they’d tried to play with Kenji, they’d agreed to go out for walks, they ate when they were given food and tried to watch TV before attempting to sleep.

Nemuri was in contact virtually all day, everyday; she’d had an argument with her mother over pushing herself too hard and running around, half-co*cked, trying to get anymore information from the people who lived in the missing teen’s apartment building. Hell, she’d nearly had her phone taken from her; it’d taken His Purple Highness promising her family that she wouldn’t be acting alone, that he’d ensure that she took regular breaks and teaming her up with Trailblazer to get them to calm down.

Sadly, despite her best efforts, there were no new leads, no further witness statements, no signs of the erasure quirk user either physically or online.

Then, it was time to return to Japan.

Their friend had been missing for five weeks and four days; the following Monday, he was meant to join him and his family at the beach for a vacation…

Then, two weeks later, they were meant to return to UA together, all four of them ready to vamp up their licenses, ace their exams and go on to form a hero agency together…

“Shirakumo-san, it’s no trouble, honestly~! I’ll be sure to take good care of him, just like you looked after my Zashi-chan, alright?”

He was now stood inside Hizashi’s apartment, his parents had dropped them both off, the sunny blonde’s mother having offered to look after him whilst they took his little brother to the beach; he’d flat out refused to go with them and, as a compromise, he’d promised to stay with Mrs Yamada, sleep that evening and not join His Purple Highness’ search-mission until the morning.

It was almost midnight.

It was almost five weeks and five days since Shouta had left that care-home, walked towards the entertainment district and vanished without a trace.

No, no that wasn’t right…

He’d been in trouble…

Sim-cards today, unlike all of their predecessors, recorded the phone users history every twenty-four hours before deleting it and starting afresh at whatever point the owner chose and, since the kid who’d bought the chip had only used it once, they had the teen’s last actions recorded.

He’d taken photos (probably of cats; without the actual phone, there was no way of knowing), sent text messages (to him and their friends) and then, later on in the evening, the time-frame matching when the erasure quirk user should have arrived at his apartment block, the card recorded a complete loss of signal.

The last thing it registered was the UA Assist App being pressed.

The call for help never sent and never received…

“Come on bro” Hizashi breathed as he gently clasped his hand and zombie-walked him away from where their mothers were quietly (and worriedly) talking at the door; “the sooner we sleep, the sooner we can wake up and get out there” he mused, his tone lack-lustre and tired.

“When I find the bastards who took Shou I’m going to scream at them until their eyes bleed…”

~*~

All for One didn’t think that he could be more pleased with the teen he’d (albeit forcibly) adopted; however, as he stared at the television screen, he couldn’t help his smile broadening despite having one of his Nomu servants plug a particularly long-needle led IV into his arm.

“What follows is a special report brought to you live from UA High School…”

So, almost six weeks since he’d taken the boy, the heroes were finally resorting to making an appeal?

“… we apologise and promise that the Saturday morning schedule will return in due course…”

‘Ah, but only on the localnews channel? Come now, Japan surely isn’t so big that it’d hurt to have the whole country alerted? Oh, but the life of one, measly orphan isn’t worth so much, is it?’ he mentally cackled.

“… good morning and thank you for your time…”

‘Well, well, well~!’ he mentally tittered, his quirk eyes going over the line up of staff, the man he recognised as His Purple Highness, a few stuffed shirts (Government lackies, then) as he found his pleasure at the scene doubling.

“… my name is Abe Hebiko and I am the principal of UA…”

“Yagi Toshinori” he breathed, his gloved hands pyramiding together, his exposed mouth smiling so widely that his white, perfect teeth flashed in the overall darkness of his office; “whyever are you involved in this, I wonder?” he murmured. “Is this because your old stomping ground begged for assistance or do you know my boy, hmm?”

“… Aizawa Shouta has been missing s-s-since the beginning of s-s-summer…”

“How very, very curious… you don’t usually involve yourself in such things so publicly, now, do you?” he mused, his delight growing by the second as his ward’s image appeared on the screen alongside his height, weight, quirk and last known movements.

“… if you know of his whereabouts or have any information pertaining to his current location or s-s-status, then please call…”

“Oh dear, oh my~!” he chortled, his attention moving to the few social-media platforms he monitored (as the voices of the people often helped him to decide where to strike, what chinks in the hero society’s armour to attack); “look at all of these distressed and concerned citizens~!” he laughed. “Heavens… it doesn’t take long to drag even an institution like UA through the mud these days, now does it?” he preened; twitter was alive with questions: “why has it taken all summer to do this?”, “who is this kid?”, “where are his parents?”, “how safe are our kids?”, “how worried should we be about this?”

“… thank you, but there’ll be no questions at this time…”

Laughing solidly, the television cutting out at a gesture, All for One leaned back in his chair; “oi” he called to one of his many, undead servers: “bring me my cigar case” he ordered, his smirk sh*t eating. “This calls for a celebration~!”

Chapter 17: Progression...

Chapter Text

Deadshot* knew that he was being paid a ridiculous amount of money and sure, the kid (as much as he hated it and was purposefully misunderstanding him; he’d been told that the boy’s English was excellent, so his lack of cooperation was clearly intentional) had excellent reflexes, but…

“Shoot. The. Target. In. The. Head~!”

Trying to get the boy (who was always escorted to and from of the shooting range by the creepiest mother f*cker he’d ever seen, those lemon eyes locked on the teen possessively) to take a kill-shot was like pulling teeth.

“No” the dark eyed boy stated, his hands placing the glock (that was only filled with blanks for the time being; tch, not that he wasn’t used to shady sh*t and it wasn’t as though he cared, or anything, but the whole situation concerning his mysterious employer (who he’d not met) the kid and his training was… weird) back down on the desk they’d set up.

“Tch, this kid” he breathed, his gloved fingers pinching the bridge of his cloth-mask covered nose; they were outside, the oppressive Japanese summer heat doing little to soothe his ire (yes, he was patient, you had to be when you were a mercenary; however, he wasn’t a saint, either). Hell, the shooting range that’d been built for them to use was covered by a camouflaged canvas and there were a few fans blowing their way but he could really do with being in the wonderfully air-conditioned, specialised range that he’d built back home in the States.

The same specialised range that didn’t have a f*cking giant watching it, an obnoxiously loud radio blaring from around his neck as he yawned, sun-bathed and drank barrel after barrel of water in between critiquing his sh*tty teaching methods.

Heh, if the money hadn’t been so good and the travel so easy (because the creepy mother f*cker might be something from a nightmare to look at, however, there was no denying that just stepping through a portal was better than travelling via train or car) then he would have turned this job down flat.

“Are we finished? Can I go now?”

“No” he grunted, his scope-covered eyes narrowing at the teen who was stood there in black-plants and t-shirt covered in bright, Japanese writing and some video-game characters; “you can’t leave until you shoot the target in the head” he stated slowly, his left hand mimicking a pistol, his index and middle finger poking the boy, between his bangs, in the forehead.

Rolling his eyes, the raven-haired erasure quirk user folded his arms and looked back towards the house.

“Ugh! What the f*ck is your problem, huh?” the gun for hire ground out, his right hand snagging one of his favourite, custom made pistols from the concealed holster in the small of his back, his face never leaving the boy’s; “look, here, it’s simple” he spat, his arm outstretched, his finger on the trigger. “You take aim, imagine someone who has royally pissed you off, and…”

*BANG~! BANG~! BANG~!*

Watching the kid flinch (hell, if his current boss wanted to make an assassin out of this (child? Ward? Captive? Feh, the latter was probably the most viable; not that he cared) teen then he’d have his work cut out for him; having skills without a killer instinct did not a villain make), he sighed.

“Okay… let’s try this again” he grumped; “why won’t you shoot the target in the head, huh? In fact, looking at your last few papers, you’re not shooting any vital points if you can help it, are you?” he huffed, his head turning back to his own handywork.

One, perfect hole right through the centre of the human-outline’s head, all three bullets having aligned perfectly.

“I don’t kill… I won’t.”

Sighing (ugh, pacifists really rubbed him the wrong way), Deadshot re-holstered his weapon and moved to stand before the pipsqueak (what was he? Five foot five, or something?), his taller form looming over him; “but what if you needed to?” he asked. “You’re hand-eye coordination is perfect and you handle that glock like it was made for you” he praised, a grin stretching his lips when the other paled at the compliment; “if it’s a case of nerves, I can tell you that they go away real quick once you’ve dropped your first few bodies” he offered. “What’re you so afraid of, hmm?”

Baulking (and looking as though he was going to storm away), the American snagged him by his right bicep, his super-human strength ensuring that the other wouldn’t be escaping any time soon; “are you… religious?” he laughed. “D’you not want to burn in hell, is that it?” he snorted, his head tilting down to enjoy the other’s alarmed face; “or are you just a goody-two shoes, huh? D’you care about your fellow man? D’you care about someone getting to live or not, hmm?”

“L-let go of me…”

“Or what, Shouta?” he asked, his fingers tightening their grip; “what can you do now, hmm? You’re pretty good at hand-to-hand combat but, against my strength? Against my light-weight, Kevlar enhanced armour, you won’t be able to hurt me at all, will you?” he pushed. “But you could stop me with your quirk and your glock, couldn’t you? Isn’t that the point? Won’t that make you stronger, less afraid? Look at you! Look at yourself! You’re shaking like a leaf~!” he snapped; “now pick up that f*cking gun and shoot the target in the head~! You—”

“That’s enough of that, thank you.”

Blinking (and sh*t, he’d been so close to breaking the kid’s resolve, he could feel it), the mercenary grunted, his hand shoving the teen to the ground, the force of his movement actually causing the little sh*t to skid on the grassy floor.

Heh, good.

“Mr Deadshot” the black-misted creeper stated, the inflection of his English very refined as he moved to stand between the gun specialist and the boy who was picking himself up, his left hand rubbing at the reddened finger welts raising on his on lily-white skin. “You were under strict orders not to use physicality in your instruction” he reminded, those lemon eyes narrowing.

“Tch, why the hell should you or your boss care?” he snorted; “you want results? You want him trained properly? Then you should let me handle him my way” he said, his arms folding: “if you want him to kill, then you’ve got to stop being so soft with him… hell, get us something live to shoot” he furthered. “Let me take him into those woods… there’re probably campers and tourists down one of those trails” he shrugged; “I’ll even throw getting rid of any bodies in for free, how’s that?”

“N-no!”

co*cking his head at the boy who’d stumbled into a stand, those midnight eyes ignited red, his hair standing on end, Deadshot gestured at him, Kurogiri turning to observe him as well; “see? You gotta do something about that” he warned: “if he can’t take-out strangers then he damned well won’t be able to murder anyone you ask him to” he shrugged. “He’s…”

“Oi~! Who told you that you could hurt my nii-san, huh~?!”

Blinking, the older people turned to the open patio doors (Deadshot co*cking his head again; tch, he hated Japanese and only knew a handful of phrases: the only words he caught were the universal ‘oi’ and ‘big brother’), a very displeased looking Tenko looking back at them, his red eyes glaring out behind his wavy bangs; “well?”

“Maa… Tenko-sama” Kurogiri replied, his head bowing; “it was just a little disagreement between tutor and student” he offered, his hand gesturing at Deadshot: “Shouta-kun is a marvellous shooter but he’s not willing to complete his final lesson which, unfortunately, has displeased his mentor, that’s all” he added, his words causing the teen to scowl at him.

“Tch, well, if that guy’s too dumb to help Shou-nii, then he should be fired” the boy huffed, his glower fixed upon the stupid America-jin who he hadn’t liked the second that his presence meant his playmate had to spend an hour less with him; “nah, nii-san… come inside and let’s finish Battle Royale Seven” he called. “Kuro-kuro, tell Sensei to get rid of that guy, alright? I don’t like him and I don’t want to see his stupid, costumed face anymore” he huffed, his scowl thunderous.

“Of course, Tenko-sama…”

Breathing a sigh of relief as the child turned around and padded back inside, the raven-haired teen was quick to take his escape route into the house for, regardless of how ridiculous it sounded, Sensei’s heir’s word was law in this place and, if it meant that he could get rid of Deadshot then he’d play as many RPG’s as the six-year-old wanted…

~*~

It was the last week of summer, he realised, as he stood before Sensei in the grand house’s study, his body dressed in a charcoal, tailored suit (not dissimilar to the fiend who’d reshaped his whole world in just seven weeks) next to his young charge, his hair tied into a messy bun to help with the heat of wearing such clothes in the summer.

“Ahh, look at you both” the fiend praised; “very dashing” he commented: “wouldn’t you agree, Kurogiri?”

“Yes sir” the butler chuckled, his tall, imposing form stood at his other side, his power needed to send them to where their next assessment would be held.

He was to take Tenko shopping in a mall somewhere, a mute yet powerful Nomu that looked human enough to pass for the real thing standing diligently behind them to act as their minder.

Apparently, they were testing the heir’s ability to control himself in a stressful situation (he didn’t like crowds and, if he was to blend into society, if he was to successfully hide in plain sight, then he’d need to control his annoyance and, most importantly, keep his quirk to himself) whilst purchasing the child somethings he wanted in exchange.

However, in his case…

“Tch… Sensei! Why can’t I wear my jeans and a hoody, huh?”

They were testing his loyalty…

“Ahh~! My boy, you can wear those clothes any time, can’t you? This is a special occasion, so you should be dressed for it, shouldn’t you?”

They were testing his word…

“I feel like a dork…”

They’d placed a charm-tagged choker around his neck that would knock him out if he tried to run; the threat that he’d wake up in a room with one of his friends and three of the more vicious Nomu had been murmured to him by Kurogiri whilst he was fitted with it.

Heh…

And to think that he’d believed not having to deal with Deadshot anymore (he wasn’t sure if the man had been fired with his briefcase full of money or simply disposed of; however, after his little brother’s order, the mercenary hadn’t been seen again) would make his life a little easier.

“No-no, you look splendid, yes, you’re becoming quite the grown-up gentleman~!”

He still had to train at the make-shift gun-range, he still had to clean, load and display the progress he’d made in using the glock (Kurogiri had provided him with moving (blessedly), non-living targets) alongside his other duties and, to his growing horror and shame, he found himself becoming rapidly more proficient.

The trigger was becoming easier to pull…

“Tch, if you say so, Sensei” Tenko replied, a pleased smile momentarily pricking his lips whilst he preened under the praise. His hands (chapped and peeling like the rest of him; he applied a special moisturiser to the child every morning and evening: regardless of anything else, he held a great deal of sympathy for the boy because of his condition), however, still tugged at the white, starched-cotton collar of his dress shirt.

Hell, the six-year-old looked more like a rich-kid who attended a private, Western school (he wore a blue blazer with matching pants and black, patent dress shoes in the same style as the ones donning his own feet) then someone who was being groomed to destroy civilisation as they knew it.

“Well then, my boys, be sure to buy whatever you like” their overseer called, his hands clapping together; “and be sure to meet Kurogiri precisely at 13:00 in the same spot he drops you off at” he instructed, his hands producing a wallet which he offered to the older of the pair.

“Have fun and get something to eat as well, alright?”

Chapter 18: An Unexpected Reunion...

Chapter Text

Stepping through the swirling darkness, Shouta was relatively unsurprised to find that they were in a dimly lit, mostly vacant, underground parking-lot, a stairwell that had helpful signs informing them that the mall (Aeon Lake-Town*?) was above them illuminated just to his right.

“Remember” the ghostly butler said, his luminous, lemon eyes narrowing to slits; “you’re being watched” he murmured: “you’re not to contact anyone and any conversations you do have must not involve your true names” he stated. “If you attempt to speak with or to people other than those serving you, there will be…”

“Consequences, I know” he finished for the other, his frown deepening before he dismissed one Nomu by turning to the other, the creature’s lightly tanned skin, thankfully, giving it the impression of being alive; its ghastly face was covered by dark shades and a surgical mask.

It, too, was wearing a suit.

Tch, what the f*ck was Sensei playing at by dressing them up like this? They looked like they were on their way to a business meeting or worse, a funeral.

Heh, maybe that was the point.

However… if he wanted them not to stand out or be noticed, having them spend three hours wandering around a shopping-centre dolled up amongst a population of regular people, tourists and just a handful of business people way older than himself and Tenko, then surely more casual outfits would be better.

sh*t…

This would make following the strict rules imposed upon him all the more difficult, wouldn’t it?

That manipulative son of a bitch…

“Run along, then, Shouta-kun” Kurogiri chuckled; “your friend their knows how to contact me should there be any… problems” he added, his body swirling away: “ja ne~!”

~*~

A short walk up the stairs (his charge was fidgeting more so as they approached the first-floor exit, the sounds of ambient-music, announcements and people walking around eerily echoing within the well-lit stairwell) brought them into a quieter area, the three of them now standing by the doors they’d exited as they looked around.

“This is so stupid” the six-year-old pouted, his eyes glaring at the freshly cleaned, pale patterned linoleum flooring; “I hate when people stare at me” he furthered, his words causing the teen to cast his sympathetic gaze towards him. Of course the happy, confident boy who he’d watched playing RPG games with relish, argue for his way when chatting to Sensei and boldly boss the undead servants around would shrink into a self-conscious child who was struggling not to scratch at his neck to relieve the stress he was feeling when faced with the outside world.

A world, as his captor (and sh*t, he hated to agree with anything that the villain said) proclaimed, was obsessed with the traditionally beautiful, powerful and perfect people.

Damn it all…

How couldn’t he be moved by his fellow orphan’s distress?

“Hey” he said, his form kneeling down to look Tenko in the eyes, his hands reaching out to rest softly upon blazer daubed shoulders; “so what if they stare, huh?” he murmured: “let them” he advised. “If they’re so dumb that they can only judge someone on what they look like, then they’re idiots” he smiled; “they’ll never be as special or as strong as you are” he reminded (because, if he was going to save this kid from Sensei, keeping him onside with praise couldn’t hurt). “You’re so much more than what you look like, okay? And besides, we’re meant to be having fun, aren’t we?” he pushed, his fingers giving a gentle squeeze; “you’re not going to let a bunch of idiots stop you from buying lots of new games and manga, are you?”

Huffing, his eyes shining, the smaller boy leaned forward for a hug that he carefully returned.

God…

He needed to get him away from Sensei…

The boy could still be helped to see reason…

He didn’t have to become a ruthless murderer…

And he would partition to become the boy’s guardian, too; he’d be eighteen in a few months and surely that’d make a difference, that’d mean that he could, right?

“Thank you, nii-san…”

“You’re welcome, Ten-kun” he said into the child’s hair before slowly standing up and offering his charge a hand to hold; “let’s go take a look around, alright?”

~*~

Sensoji had had a miserable summer.

He’d been packed up and sent off to his aunt’s house (because his mother would be working and, after his last slip-up, she didn’t want him lounging in their apartment all day, doing nothing) where he’d had to work in her sh*tty flower-shop to (he struggled not to roll his eyes) get a taste of what real-work was like.

Hell, it wouldn’t have been so bad is she wasn’t ancient, her wifi barely up to speed and her lack of technology making the way she lived closer to the stone-age than anything else.

That, and she didn’t live somewhere fun, did she?

No, she lived on the outskirts of Saitama Prefecture which was a whole hour away from Tokyo, meaning that he was two hours away from his home, his friends and all of the awesome things they’d planned to do during their last summer vacation before graduating.

Then, to add further insult to injury, he’d destroyed his phone because he’d developed allergies whilst tending to the stupid, half-dead flowers that creepy old ladies loved to buy and, during a particularly violent sneeze, his quirk had set off, frying the device.

As punishment for giving the biddies he’d been trying to serve a fright that’d sent them from the shop, his aunt and mother had forbidden him from buying a new phone until the end of his holiday.

Tch, at least the Aeon Lake Town Mall was only a twenty-minute walk away; the fact that it was the biggest shopping centre in Japan with an excellent outlet-centre also went a small way to soothing the fracturing cap he’d topped his temper with…

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

That was, until, he spotted none other than f*cking Aizawa Shouta (wasn’t it bad enough that he had to deal with the pipsqueak at school?) walking down one of the mall’s many corridors holding hands with a crusty, white-haired kid whilst an almost freakishly tall, weird looking man shuffled behind him. They didn’t particularly look related but, with quirks, that wasn’t so unusual these days; since he couldn’t see a woman associating with them, he assumed that his classmate was just out with his dad (uncle? Grandfather? Butler? He was carrying quite a few bags) and little brother.

Tch, what was with those clothes, though?

So formal… expensive.

Feh, of course the smarmy prick was rich…

However, at least the annoying erasure quirk user had a family even stranger and creepier than he was; ha! Yeah, it was like seeing that western Adam’s Family is real-life, wasn’t it? Rich, haunted-old-mansion dwelling Wednesday, Pugsley and Lurch all out for a day of shopping…

No wonder the stuck-up prick didn’t bring his parents or family to any school events…

No wait, f*ck that sh*t! Just because he was the only normal looking kid in his family shouldn’t mean that he got out of performances (or all the work, extra time and stress that went with them), cringey teacher evenings or recitals.

That was so not f*cking fair!

Why should he get special treatment?

Tch, not on his watch!

“Heh… it’d be a real shame if everyone in 2A knew just how f*cking weird you were, wouldn’t it, Aizawa?” he whispered to himself whilst the camera of his new phone snapped a photograph as his quarry walked below him then, a devious smirk spreading his lips, he switched to video; “hey guys, check it out” he narrated, his body slowly following them. He was on an upper-level balcony, the objects of his ridicule strolling unawares beneath where he was stalking them from a few paces back, the older boy talking to the younger one and pointing at various shops; damn, he’d probably need to jog ahead to get a shot of their faces, wouldn’t he?

The back of their heads didn’t exactly make for exciting footage, did it?

“Here we have the Aizawa~ Family~!” he tittered to himself whilst snapping his fingers and singing their name in tune with the western cartoon he’d watched as a kid, his tone lacquered with mockery. “They’re geeky, creepy and freaky, huh?” he furthered, his laughter spilling into his words; “man oh man! Didn’t I tell you that Mr Big Shot was actually a f*cking monster?” he asked, his smile turning to a frown as they veered into game-store.

Damn it!

“Feh! You’re not getting away that easily” he called before flipping the camera’s view back around to himself; “don’t worry, fellow freak enthusiasts, Detective Sensoji is going to investigate the secret life of that sulky, teacher’s pet and get his reaction to being busted live on camera!” he proclaimed.

“Let the mission begin~!”

~*~

Watching Tenko scamper to the RPG section, Shouta checked the expensive watch he was wearing (tch, it was probably tracking his movements and recording everything he said; f*ck, it was probably sending Sensei a live feed) and let out a sigh.

It’d just turned 12:00.

After this next purchase (he’d not bought anything for himself; he didn’t want to owe the villain anything, after all), he’d take the boy (who was, thankfully, too absorbed in picking out what he wanted to glare at any customer who got too close to him) to a bathroom, swing them by the food-court and then guide them back to the parking-lot.

Wistfully, his dark eyes looked to the large gaming-shop’s exit, one of the mall’s actual exits mocking him from about twenty feet away as those glass, sliding doors and opened and closed around lots of happy, smiling, chatting people who were blissfully unaware of how lucky they were.

sh*t…

It was so tempting, so f*cking tempting…

He’d seen plenty of security guards milling around; if he managed to approach one, even if he passed out in front of them, then they’d be able to raise the alarm, wouldn’t they?

They’d have to call paramedics at the very least…

Surely Sensei wouldn’t risk exposing himself by…

No… no…

He couldn’t risk it…

Even now, the screams of those trapped police-officers rang in his ears, the piles of ash that they became visiting him in nightmares he was struggling to shake.

Oboro, Hizashi and Nemuri could be turned into such mounds of dust…

That’d be the kindest way that his captor would kill them…

He couldn’t stop himself from shuddering…

“Nii-san, nii-san~! They’ve just put out the latest ‘Path of Vengeance’ series but it’s on a high shelf and I can’t reach it~!”

Blinking, his mind coming back to the present, Shouta turned to the boy (who could so easily kill him and the only people he cared about) and smiled; “come on then” he chuckled, his head nodding at the (bag-loaded) Nomu: “let’s reach them down for you…”

~*~

Sensoji felt his anger (and jealousy a cruel, little voice that sounded like their homeroom teacher whispered in the back of his mind) boil under his skin, threatening to ignite his quirk.

The Aizawa’s were spending money like it was going out of style~!

They were buying things that he’d have to save up months worth of allowance to even dream of getting; video-games, whole manga arcs, top of the line action-figures, hand-held consoles and limited-edition merchandise that would only grow in value over time.

Of all the f*cking nerve~!

The little prick was intelligent, skilled and f*cking loaded; why the f*ck was he taking a spot at UA when he could go to one of those fancy-pants private academies? It certainly looked as though his pasty, little brother did…

Tch…

But confronting him in full view of all the other shoppers (lots of people were wandering in for their lunch-time meal) wouldn’t go down well, would it? The security guards around here would only have to run his id to find out that he’d been cautioned a few times by the police for causing public disturbances; heh, he was loud, so what? He wouldn’t rag on anyone who didn’t deserve it and, another caution be damned, Aizawa Shouta needed to be knocked down a peg or three.

“Come on, come on… go into that bathroom— yes~!” he tittered whilst activating his phone, clicking on the video-app and slotting it into jacket pocket that rested over his heart (because he wanted to catch every detail to share with his bois) so his hands were free to move around. Then, he swiftly turned the corner he’d been hiding behind and jogged his way to the same, quiet bathroom that the creepy-trio had entered.

“Heh… I hope you’re ready for your close up, you sneaky piece of sh*t” he grinned, his fingerless-gloved hand shoving the door open to allow him entrance.

Ha!

Even better, the raven-haired pain in his neck (‘who do you think you are with your hair like that? A f*cking model?’) was lounging against the sinks, the tall, bag-saddled man looming next to him whilst the kid used one of the urinals.

There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the relatively large chamber, either; the stall doors were all swung inwards.

“Fancy seeing you here, Aizawa-teme~!”

Oh, but the shocked, terrified look upon that usually lacklustre face was priceless.

“What the f*ck are you doing all the way out here, huh? Enjoying yourself, are you, ah?!”

~*~

Of all the people in all the world, why the f*ck did Sensoji have to be here!?

“Heh, surprised to see me, asshole?”

What should he do… what could he do… he…

“Seems like everywhere I turn these days, there you are~!”

From his usual, antagonist approach, the stockier teen either didn’t know he was missing or, worse still, he did know and just didn’t care; for all he knew Sensei could have left a note at his apartment telling anyone who might go looking for him that he’d left of his own free will, or something…

“And who’s this, eh?”

Oh f*ck, oh f*ck, oh f*ck~!

“Tch, I didn’t know that you had a little brother… what’s your name, kid?”

The Nomu beside him was equally frozen but definitely watching, clearly listening.

Kurogiri could swirl into the room at any moment…

They’d want to kill him and, as much as he f*cking hated the blast quirk user (who loved to make him miserable) he didn’t want him dead…

Let alone because of him…

He couldn’t have anymore dead people on his conscience…

“Oi, nii-san… this isn’t good, you know?”

Shuddering, he turned to look at Tenko as the boy approached the sinks to wash his hands, his red eyes regarding Sensoji with the same vitriol he allotted to bugs…

sh*t…

“Oi, there’s no need to be rude!” the broad, smirking hero trainee snigg*red; “Aizawa, you gotta teach that little snot some manners” he snorted whilst looming over the six-year-old: “or is he deaf as well as ugly, hu— Wwwaaahhhhhh~!!”

He’d moved without thinking, his body skirting around his charge to ram a fist straight into the other’s stomach before knocking him up and into the air with a vicious upper-cut.

“Keep your big mouth shut~!”

If he could knock him out, if he was unconscious, then maybe they’d let him live…

If he wasn’t a threat, if Kurogiri could get them out of there now, then…

“Wow~! Shou-nii~! That was awesome~!”

Gasping, his body standing above the brute who’d dropped to the ground like a stone, his cracked, favourite glare-reducing glasses skittering under a stall, Shouta appraised the other’s slack face and laboured breathing before checking his knuckles, shakily; he’d gotten stronger, then.

“Yes, Shouta-kun, very impressive~!”

Caught between relief and worry, the seventeen-year-old turned back to view Sensei’s most sentient Nomu before warily watching Tenko approach Sensoji, the kid’s leather-shoed foot giving the bully’s ankle a swift kick, his smile spreading; “that’s what you get for trying to pick on me” he preened. “Nah… there’re grids in here, right?” he asked, that smile spreading more widely into something cruelly menacing; “if I break him down into dust then we can swill him down the pipes, can’t we…”

“N-no… no wait” he breathed, his head snapping from the child to the butler; “we… we shouldn’t hang around” he tried: “we should go back… we should go back right now…”

“Ahh, but he’s seen you, Shouta-kun” the gaseous male purred; “that means he has to die…”

“N-no… no it doesn’t” he pleaded, his eyes wild; “please… please you don’t… the guy hates me, alright? A-and… and he won’t s-say anything… he… he wouldn’t want to… to lose face in front of his f-friends” he stammered, his shaking hands moving towards the six-year-old and pulling him away. “Ten-kun… please… please, I don’t…”

“Maa, nii-san, you’re really okay with letting a guy who’s mean to you live?” the boy huffed, his lips pouting; “why?”

“B-because” he tried, his voice wavering; “he…”

“But he’s mean to you” the red-eyed youth pushed; “and you remember what Sensei said… you don’t want anyone trying to take you away again, do you?”

“T-Ten-kun, I…”

“You’re my big brother now!” he furthered, that pout souring into a frown, his tone angry… possessive; “I won’t let you leave me…”

“A-and I… I don’t want to leave you, either… I promise” he was quick to say, his body kneeling next to him; “h-hey… hey, come on, don’t-t be sad, alright? We… we’ve got all of those new games to play now, don’t we?”

“Why won’t you let me help you?” the child asked sullenly, their eyes locking; “I don’t want someone who made you sad living… he should die! I want to kill him for you!”

Swallowing thickly, Shouta stared at Sensoji, the horror of the situation threatening to consume him…

“T-that’s… that’s really sweet of you, T-Ten-kun… you’re s-so good to me, and-d I’m so… so grateful to you…” he tried, his mouth opening to say something, anything else to argue his case when, to his shock, the door which led into the toilets was pulled back.

The sound of two men chatting, amicably, rang into deafening silence that’d yawned out between them.

“S-sh*t…”

“Hold on…”

“Whoa~!”

Hugging Tenko to him out of reflex, Shouta shut his eyes as the darkness enveloped them and then, just like that…

“Ahh, it seems that you’ve had quite the adventure, hmm?”

They were back in Sensei’s study…

Chapter 19: Analysis...

Chapter Text

Yagi Toshinori had put pay to ringing his driver or any of his entourage when the call came through; he could leap from building to building, launch himself across any river and, at the thought of finally having some information to go on, he didn’t dare to wait.

“I am here~!”

For, just under half an hour ago, a promising young officer (who he’d be making his personal liaison at this rate; the dark-haired man’s diligence, communication skills and desire to find Aizawa Shouta had really moved him) by the name of Naomasa, had contacted him.

A UA student had been attacked inside a Mall bathroom somewhere out in Saitama Prefecture and, upon his wheezing, unconscious person, was a cellphone who’s camera had been running during the entire event.

An event that involved the student (still out-cold; they’d looked at his phone to confirm his identity since his wallet didn’t contain any id) approaching the missing teen and, if the footage was to be believed, barely managing to come out of the situation alive.

“All Might” the same police sergeant he’d worked with a few weeks ago when they’d thought that the erasure quirk user was holed up in a Tokyo apartment building greeted, his stern countenance unchanging as they shook hands and he walked him through the (startled, mostly star-struck) precinct; “thank you for coming so quickly…”

“And thank you for sharing such vital information with us” he returned, his mustard-suited form following swiftly whilst his right hand fired off a text to his side-kick and His Purple Highness (he’d made a promise to the other Pro and he was damn well going to keep it); “how is Sensoji-kun?”

“Tch, still sleeping off one hell of a combo attack” the older, shorter male replied; “he’s in the local hospital with his aunt and his mother is on her way” he added as they entered a small room brimming with technology and a handful of diligently working staff. “Please, take a seat” the officer offered; “we’ve also contacted our best villain profilers… they should be here shortly to see if they can identify the man that was with Aizawa and the child…”

“Child?” he breathed, his muscular body slipping into a chair before a huge array of screens whilst, to his right, a pair of technicians were using their quirks to manipulate the footage in order to do whatever analysis they’d been asked to complete.

Heh… he was pretty good at using his smartphone, however, that’s where he’d draw a line.

Give him a pen and paper any day…

“Yes… it seems that the situation is, well, much more complicated than we first thought” the sergeant murmured as he came to stand before him; “see for yourself…”

Nodding, his arms folding, the largest screen at the array’s centre flashed to life then, after a text reading “clip 1” flashed up, he heard a teenager’s voice begin some kind of crude, mocking commentary (he’d have to speak to the boy when he was awake; that was not how a hero in training should regard people) whilst the camera zoomed in on three people.

Yes, even from the back and side-profile, there was no mistaking Shouta and, even from this distance, he could see the nervous tension in his shoulders; was… was that a collar around his neck?

The video stopped, an image of the three turning towards a store front fixed on the display.

“We’ve scoured the Mall, of course, and Aeon have given us full access to their CCTV footage, too… however, unlike the boy’s phone, these three don’t appear on any of the cameras… it’s as though something or someone has been able to hide their presence completely… hell, even the smaller cameras in the shops they visited show us nothing.”

“I see” the number one Pro mused, his frown deepening as he regarded the two people with the seventeen-year-old; the child (holding Aizawa’s hand) was definitely kindergarten age whilst the other tall, looming, definitely disguised man seemed to lumber.

The cadence of his steps somehow unnatural…

Familiar…

“The second video offers far more clues, at least.”

Blinking, a thoughtful hum leaving him, Yagi nodded for the next clip to be loaded whilst sending a message to Gran Torino; he prayed it wasn’t true, he hoped that he was wrong but…

But that man could very well be a…

“Fancy seeing you here, Aizawa-teme~!”

The UA student (who could very well be kicked off of the hero course if he had anything to say about it; he was stunned to learn that the teen may not have known about his classmate’s abduction but was appalled either way by the sneering tone the red-haired boy used as he burst into the bathroom) yelled boisterously…

‘Oh… Shouta’ he thought, his breath drawing in as the erasure quirk user baulked at his fellow student, his tense form paling, gasping and jerking in what looked to be horror…

“What the f*ck are you doing all the way out here, huh? Enjoying yourself, are you, ah?!”

The panic on his face was palpable, those dark eyes looking to and from the intruder whilst the bag-holding masked man seemed to stiffen at the partially hidden child using the facilities narrowed a glare towards the camera…

“Heh, surprised to see me, asshole?”

Sensoji was walking forward, he could see the bully’s arms spreading in an exasperated gesture whilst the abducted boy was becoming paler, more distressed…

“Seems like everywhere I turn these days, there you are~!”

The white-haired child (red eyes flashing, pale skin wrinkling and cracking as displeasure took over his expression) scoffed at the posturing…

“And who’s this, eh?”

Aizawa flinched whilst the youngest member of the group scowled and moved towards the sinks; the tall, sunglasses wearer remained fixed in place, his head tilting ever so slightly…

“Tch, I didn’t know that you had a little brother… what’s your name, kid?”

Instead of answering, the thoroughly annoyed looking child grabbed a napkin to dry his hand, his form turning away from the blast quirk user to observe the collared teen; the crest on the diamond tag handing from that blackened metal… no… no it couldn’t be…

“Oi, nii-san… this isn’t good, you know?”

‘B-big brother?’

“Oi, there’s no need to be rude! Aizawa, you gotta teach that little snot some manners… or is he deaf as well as ugly, hu— Wwwaaahhhhhh~!!”

Shouta was a blur of movement, those ebony eyes bleeding red as he struck both viciously and efficiently.

“Keep your big mouth shut~!”

There were swishes of colour and then… only the bathroom’s ceiling was visible, the creamy tiles and basic light fixtures an impassive audience as the scene continued…

“Wow~! Shou-nii~! That was awesome~!”

He could hear panting and then a strange sound, like air being displaced… like the swirl of a vortex…

“Yes, Shouta-kun, very impressive~!”

Someone else was there?!

“That’s what you get for trying to pick on me…” part of the youngest boy’s face could be seen along with his unruly mop of greyish hair; Sensoji’s body swayed as he was kicked; “nah… there’re grids in here, right? If I break him down into dust then we can swill him down the pipes, can’t we…”

‘W-w-what?’

Oh God…

To hear such a sweet, innocent sounding voice say such a shocking, terrible thing…

“N-no… no wait… we… we shouldn’t hang around… we should go back… we should go back right now…”

Aizawa’s plea was as desperate as it was frightened…

What had his captors put him through in these seven weeks?

What had he been forced to see?

What had he been forced to do?

“Ahh, but he’s seen you, Shouta-kun… that means he has to die…”

The unseen person who’d clearly used a quirk to enter the chamber (the children were clearly being watched) sounded almost gleeful…

“N-no… no it doesn’t… please… please you don’t… the guy hates me, alright? A-and… and he won’t s-say anything… he… he wouldn’t want to… to lose face in front of his f-friends… Ten-kun… please… please, I don’t…”

‘Ten-kun?!’

“Maa, nii-san, you’re really okay with letting a guy who’s mean to you live? Why?”

Oh… how could such a youngster be so heartless, so callous, so confused about the wickedness of murder?

“B-because… he…”

‘Aizawa-kun… even though you’ve been through such terrible things… you’re still trying to save others?’

“But he’s mean to you… and you remember what Sensei said… you don’t want anyone trying to take you away again, do you?”

‘Sensei? No… no, no… please God… not him…’

Could it be…

Could he really have kidnapped his missing friend?

Yes…

Yes, now that he thought about it… if… if anyone would see the innate power and appeal of Shouta’s quirk then it would be him…

“T-Ten-kun, I…”

All for One…

“You’re my big brother now! I won’t let you leave me…”

‘W-what~?!’

“A-and I… I don’t want to leave you, either… I promise… h-hey… hey, come on, don’t-t be sad, alright? We… we’ve got all of those new games to play now, don’t we?”

‘My God… he… he’s sacrificing his own freedom… what else has he had to sacrifice? Who else is he trying to protect from these monsters?!’

“Why won’t you let me help you? I don’t want someone who made you sad living… he should die! I want to kill him for you!”

‘Jesus!’

“T-that’s… that’s really sweet of you, T-Ten-kun… you’re s-so good to me, and-d I’m so… so grateful to you…”

The camera picked up the squeal of hinges…

“S-sh*t…”

“Hold on…”

“Whoa~!”

“What the f*ck?!”

Then, rushing over the unconscious boy, the two young men he’d seen in an interview room as he’d walked through the police station appeared, one checking Sensoji’s vitals whilst the other called for the EMT’s and police, his gangly body running back to the toilet’s entrance and calling out for help.

Then the video cut off.

~*~

His Purple Highness thought his teeth would break if he clenched them together any tighter…

“Without a doubt, that thing is a Nomu.”

Here he was, sat in a room amongst legends (All Might, Gran Torino and Sir Nighteye were internationally recognised, after all); however, all that he could think about, all that he could see was Shouta’s mortified face.

He seemed thinner, paler and yet, somehow, more muscular.

He looked… haunted…

“We’re looking into the identity of the child… but, Ten-kun isn’t exactly much to go on and he doesn’t match any missing-persons profiles, either.”

That poor boy.

He’d been snatched by a megalomaniac who thought nothing of slaughtering anyone; he was ruthless, cruel and only ever spoken about in whispers even by the wider-villain community…

“The fact that he has a lackey able to teleport groups of people at will is also highly concerning.”

sh*t…

sh*t!

“How can we save him now?” he heard himself breathe, the small boardroom that UA had hosted them in closing in all around him; “how do we know if he’s alive… that sick son of a bitch could have killed him for disobeying… for not letting that child he’s corrupted, kill” he said, his eyes refusing to blink away from the screen.

He’d failed him…

He’d failed his other trainees too…

“Mister-san” Gran Torino said, a yellow-gloved hand clapping onto his shoulder; “the situation is dire… I’ll admit that” he furthered: “however… you saw the boy’s attachment to Aizawa-kun didn’t you? If All for One is grooming them for a purpose, then an event that happened out of their control should not lead to such… unfortunate repercussions” he argued.

Shaking his head, his shoulders deflating, the purple costumed hero looked to Yagi Toshinori, their eyes locking.

“What do we tell his friends?” he asked, his heart crumbling at the thought; ‘hey kids, good news, broody-boy is being held captive by the greatest evil Japan has ever known and might actually still be breathing right now’?

f*ck…

f*ck!

“I believe it’s best that we keep such things to ourselves, for the moment” the blonde replied before nodding at the similar distressed head teacher, her pretty face pinched with worry; “Abe-sama? Would we be able to have a private meeting with them and Sensoji this coming Monday morning?” he asked.

“Of course” the snake-tongued woman replied; “S-s-sensoji has been placed under restrictive measures by the police, ourselves and his mother, s-s-so he won’t be talking to anyone about the incident before then” she reminded: “I believe having him, S-s-shirakumo, Yamada, Kayama and His Purple Highness present to discuss things with a counsellor may be of s-s-some s-s-small help…”

“Agreed” All Might nodded; “I would like to be there too, if I can” he murmured, his arms folding as he scowled: “we have a weekend to decide how we’ll approach them whilst our investigations into the matter continue” he mused, his gaze returning to the sparkle-covered Pro.

“I will do everything I can to get Aizawa-kun back” he added, a glint of his power rippling over him; “you have my word…”

Chapter 20: Redemption...

Chapter Text

Shirakumo Oboro had hugged his mother that morning when she’d offered for him to stay home that day; he’d quietly apologised for any hurt he’d caused her as he tried to navigate between his broken-heart, fractured nerves and deep-seated anger.

He’d ruffled his little brother’s hair and embraced his father, too; more apologies, sincerely meant, before he pulled away and walked to their apartment’s front door.

He had to go back to school…

He had to work hard and get more experience…

He had to have his ear to the ground and graduate at the earliest opportunity…

Only then would he get the answers that he needed…

Only then would he be treated seriously enough to be involved in the case…

He believed that, wherever he was, Shouta was somehow doing the same…

He was somehow working to free himself, to leave clues, to find his way home…

A home that wouldn’t consist of that shoe-box of an apartment; His Purple Highness had made that promise, he’d already filled in the paperwork which would make him the erasure quirk users primary guardian if he accepted him…

And he would, he knew that Shouta would…

And they’d be together again…

He’d hold him tightly…

He’d listen to him…

He’d protect him…

They would protect each other…

“Hey bro, you ready?”

Nodding, his usually light-hearted nature (the excitement he should feel for his third and final year of study) dimmed alongside Hizashi’s smile (the sunny blonde was waiting for him in his apartment block’s lobby) and gregarious nature; the voice quirk user had almost burned out and destroyed a laptop or two in his feverish search for their friend.

His mother, God bless her, and simply replaced the technology (or, to be specific, given him the yen he needed to rebuild it himself) and put the phone down on his father when he’d started trying to persuade him to ‘settle down, stop wasting your time on something you can do nothing about…’

He supposed that the adult had had a point (he’d been there, hell, he and Nemuri were pretty much stuck to the tech-genius’ side (which was probably wrong of him; they’d not had a lot of time as a couple with him third-wheeling around all of the time) the second they’d met up again); however…

To watch Mrs Yamada storm into the bedroom, her olive-green eyes narrowed as they’d just stared, dumbly, at the music-producer who’d sired their voice quirk user whilst he ranted on about ‘letting the Pros handle it’, her petite form alight with anger as she cancelled the call and hugged them each in turn had been…

Really… really comforting…

At least someone seemed to understand their distress…

At least someone outside of their rooftop quartet gave a damn and knew, full well, that they couldn’t stop looking…

“How’s your mom doing this morning?” he heard himself ask, their UA blazer coated shoulders nudging as they walked, subdued, towards the school; “she okay with you going back?”

“Heh… you know Ya-mama” Hizashi tried to laugh, his smile not reaching his eyes; “she told me to call her if we needed any help kicking ass today” he added: “she’s invited you and Nemu-chan over for dinner if, you know, you wanna come?”

“Y-yeah… that’s great, thanks” the taller boy replied quietly; “things are… still pretty tense at home and, heh, if my dad keeps looking at me like I’m driving him crazy I might end up yelling at him, or something” he admitted: “I just don’t get why he doesn’t understand” he sighed.

“Heh… your mom and pop are civilians” the green-eyed teen reminded; “Yama-dad is too… they’ve never gone through something like this themselves, you know?” he reasoned: “that, and our grandparents, aunties, uncles and cousins are all still alive and kicking, aren’t they?” he murmured. “They won’t know what this feels like until someone they care about suddenly isn’t there anymore… my mom gets it… she was a Pro, once” he sighed, a shudder running through him; “that… and I guess they think that they’re trying to, I don’t know, protect us?” he mused. “They just want us to be laughing and smiling and joking around again, you know? They don’t get why we can’t be fine knowing that All Might is on the case” he huffed; “for all the good he’s been…”

Letting his friend trail off, Oboro readjusted the straps of his bag, his eyes fixed on the pavement in front of him.

He was right, of course…

What was the first thing most people thought when All Might entered the scene?

That everything was going to be magically alright, that the evil would flee, that the day would be saved?

Heh…

That couldn’t apply to Shouta’s situation, could it?

Sure, the blonde, muscular symbol of peace had more resources (money, support, connections) than you could shake a stick at but he wasn’t psychic…

He couldn’t snap his ridiculously strong fingers and summon a missing person out of thin air…

“I’ve been thinking” he murmured, their eyes briefly locking; “about the Agency we’re going to form” he added, the blonde’s eyebrows lifting as he continued: “I… I think Shou’s right” he furthered. “I think that we should form an underground group” he said; “a group that lurks in the shadows, that runs around the same circles as the lowest, scummiest villains” he continued, his eyes narrowing. “If there’d had been a group like that where he lived… if there’d been someone who gave a f*ck living there… or was at least keeping an eye on the place then… then maybe” he sighed, his irritation mounting.

“Yeah… yeah, I hear you, man” Hizashi nodded, his hands tightening on back-pack straps he’d been clutching.

They’d been to that apartment complex, of course, the second that they’d woken up on the first morning back in Japan; they’d decided to dress casually, they’d met up with Nemuri and performed their own kind of investigation.

They’d talked to the few residents they’d found (“Aizawa Shouta? Who’s that? Oh, the kid who went missing? No, no idea where he is, sorry”), the Seven Eleven staff (“he was such a good kid… he’d stopped three robberies here, you know? Fed the stray cats, nice boy… I’m sorry he’s gone”) and even petitioned some of the kids.

They’d been the most helpful…

They’d cussed at them, laughed at them, told them they couldn’t catch them (they’d been forced to give chase since one of the kids (eight, nine maybe) had snagged his mobile phone and made a run for it) and, to their shock, the little posse of children led them into a back alley covered in graffiti.

They’d told them what they’d heard…

What one of their father’s had said he’d seen…

Their friend had been approached by a group (the shady, little gang who ran the block and bragged about being yakuza), assaulted and tossed into a car…

No one had so much as batted an eye as he’d yelled for help…

They then, of course, contacted His Purple Highness, the description of the men who’d helped in Shouta’s abduction pouring out of them but…

But… that same, small gang had been fished out of the river two weeks after the erasure quirk user had been taken…

Their bodies had been savagely beaten and their mentor had refused to go into any further details…

*I AM HERE~! I AM HERE~! I AM HERE~!*

Blinking out of his thoughts, Oboro fished out his cellphone (the kids had given it back to him; they’d all quietly wished them luck with their search) to see a message from All Might, his brows lifting when Hizashi got the same message.

“Please join me in room 203b instead of going to homeroom… your teachers have been informed.”

~*~

Sensoji could admit many things about himself; he was loud, he was proud of his quirk and he didn’t suffer fools easily.

“… not the kind of language that I’d expect from anyone, let alone someone on the hero course…”

However, as he sat in that small room, All Might’s words washing over him like jets of frozen water, he came to his biggest realisation.

“… he’s in life-threatening peril and was convinced that you, one of his classmates, a fellow UA student, would not help him…”

He was a total piece of sh*t…

“… instead of trying to save himself, he chose to stay and beg for your life…”

Staring at his lap since he couldn’t bring himself to look at his idol (who was frowning; disappointed), his principle (stoic, her slit-pupils angry) or His Purple Highness (seething, he’d nearly put his hands on him), the blast quirk user swallowed thickly; was struggling not to break down.

“… that such a vicious, malicious act bore such valuable information is the only reason why you’re here today; however, after this… I’m afraid that you’ll be facing suspension until a meeting can be arranged to mediate your expulsion from UA…”

God…

He deserved much worse, he knew…

The way he’d treated Aizawa over the past two years was inexcusable, in and of itself…

“… do you have anything you’d like to say at this time?”

But…

How he’d approached him that day was unforgivable…

“I don’t want to cause anyone any further trouble” he said quietly, his eyes screwed shut; “there’s no need for mediation I… I’ll retract myself from the course” he stated, the terrible, bone-deep numbness… the coldness of his guilt unrelenting: “I won’t cause a fuss” he promised. “I…”

“Wait…”

Blinking, he and the room at large turned to the three other students in the room, His Purple Highness hovering protectively over them, the glower upon his face hot enough to melt steel.

He deserved much worse, he knew…

And now, at the hands of Shirakumo Oboro, it looked as though he was going to get it.

Good…

It was only fair, only right that the missing boy’s partner (his boyfriend; he’d remembered sneering at the stupid smiles they shared when they thought no one else was looking: ‘jealousy’ a pained, quiet voice whispered) deliver it, too.

Hell, he wouldn’t be averse to all three of the deeply wounded, rightfully furious teens (they’d watched the footage in horror; their Pro mentor had insisted that they be involved, had hoped that maybe they’d known the terrifying child who’d thought so little of killing him: heh, maybe that would’ve been better) getting to kick the sh*t out of him.

He’d let them…

He’d thank them for it…

“Shouta…” the cloud quirk user breathed, his eyes tearing as he spoke the other’s name; “Shouta wouldn’t… wouldn’t want you to expel him…”

‘W-w-what?!’

“Oboro-kun” the principal breathed, her form taken aback; “we…”

“He’s right” Hizashi rasped, his hands resting upon the taller boy’s right hand whilst Nemuri hugged his left arm, her head nodding even as tears rolled down her face.

“Shouta would give him a second chance… he was always doing that” she managed; “y-you don’t deserve it… and I wish to God that they… that they’d taken you instead of h-him” she whimpered, the purple costumed hero giving her uniformed-shoulder a fatherly squeeze, his face filled with grief-tinged pride. “B-but… he’d… he’d want you to have… have the chance… to change and… and graduate” she ground out, a fierce grin stretching her lips; “t-that… and you don’t deserve to… to get off that easy” she hissed.

“Y-yeah” her boyfriend snapped, his ire rapidly taking over the horror that’d been eating at him; “y-you need to stay here and… and face what you did… face what your sh*tty, bratty, bastard attitude has led to~!” he furthered, his quirk almost activating. “Y-you were always… so… so f*cking mean to him” he continued, Oboro’s form deflating next to him, his eyes having returned back to the screen.

The screen that’d showed Shouta afraid…

The screen that’d showed Shouta collared…

“Why?! Huh?! Why wouldn’t you ever give him a f*cking break?!”

Sitting there, stunned, his throat parched and spirit lower than it had ever been, Sensoji let out a sigh; “sensei was right” he admitted quietly: “I was jealous of him” he murmured, his tone hollow, ashamed. “He was always top of the class with grades and… and even though I have such a great quirk I… I always felt as though he was put on a pedestal… that he was given special treatment and I just… I just couldn’t figure out why” he continued.

“T-then… then when I saw him at the mall I… everything pieced together in my mind… he was rich, he didn’t want to do all of the parent-teacher and family-based things so… so he didn’t” he huffed. “And I watched him walk that kid into every… every store he wanted and just buy and buy and buy and I… I got mad… I wondered why he’d taken a place at UA on a recommendation when he clearly could have afforded to pay, I…” he shook his head.

Then, his own tears streaming as he looked at the other teens; “I had no idea… no f*cking clue that he was m-missing… I swear to you… I swear on my mom’s life and my dad’s grave I… I didn’t know… I never would have…” he rasped. “God… God I’m so… so f*cking sorry” he wheezed, his eyes screwing shut; “K-Kayama’s r-right… I… I wish they h-had…”

“Sensoji.”

Head snapping to All Might, the muscular blonde’s usual smile and the frown that’d been shot at him earlier having been replaced with a quiet, profound stoicism that he’d never seen before, the blast quirk user found that he couldn’t look away.

“Whereas I cannot condone your actions, your words or your justifications” the number one Pro said, his voice like velvet thunder in its intensity; “if Aizawa-kun’s friends know that these would be his wishes… and if Abe-sama, the School Governors, the faculty and students are willing to support you… then I will personally oversee your training and help you to redeem yourself…”

“S-sir, I…”

“However… you must not see this as any kind of reward” he cautioned, a spark of blue-power glinting from his eyes; “I will insist that you’re placed back into the first year and you will follow every order given to you by myself and my Agency without question” he stated. “And, if at the end of a probationary-period I am not completely satisfied that you’re reformed and on the right path, then I will see to it that no school in this country will ever place you on a hero course” he declared, that gaze electrifying.

“Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

Chapter 21: Hope...

Chapter Text

Shouta had been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Take a seat, my boy.”

It’d been a full week since the mall incident and, aside from Tenko being flustered and upset with him (they’d hugged it out; he’d tried to resolve the situation without poisoning the child against Sensei and his teachings, which’d been hard but, after offering to read him manga until he’d fallen asleep, it seemed all was forgiven), everything had been…

“Come, come… there’s no need to fret.”

Fine…

Sensei had laughed off what had happened that day, Kurogiri hadn’t raised any issues and the usual, daily routine rolled on.

Then, after breakfast on this bright (blessedly cooler) Friday morning, his master had summoned him to his study.

He was barely managing to keep himself together.

“Now then, let’s talk about the future, shall we?”

Swallowing (because that God awful fish porridge wanted to make a return appearance), the erasure quirk user kept his head bowed.

As always, the villain’s tone was courteous, polite and (dare he think it?) fatherly.

“October is nearly upon us… and then, on the 8th of November, it’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

Baulking because, of all the things he’d expected (the day, week, month or year that the villain envisioned disposing of him had been the darkest thought crowding his mind) the fiend to say, that wasn’t it.

Carefully, he nodded.

A small, terrified voice whispered to him that this might be worse…

He’d been forcibly employed by this man for nine weeks, going on ten…

He…

He was never getting away from him, was he?

Not unless he died…

But even then… even then that wouldn’t be the end of his service; the Nomu, from what little he’d been told, were the reanimated amalgamations of deceased people with useful quirks all spliced together and made into servants…

Was that really going to be his fate?

He swallowed again, his eyes stinging…

It…

It was only logical, wasn’t it?

f*ck…

f*ck…

“Ahh, to be eighteen again” the fiend sighed, a chuckle curling from him as he leaned back in his chair; “such a marvellous age” he mused thoughtfully: “an age that grants you your first passage into adulthood…”

sh*t…

He didn’t like the sound of that…

“And, as an adult, inevitably you’ll be expected to fulfil certain expectations… shoulder more responsibilities” he purred, his voice velvety soft; “join the family business…”

Oh God…

Oh God please… please no…

“Which brings us to our impasse, doesn’t it?”

He swallowed again.

“What will it take for you to given in and accept your place, hmm?”

“I… I’ve been… been trying, sir…”

“Yes, yes, you’ve been trying, Shouta-kun” the other acknowledged, his masked countenance nodding away; “but, there’s always been that little spark of hope in you, hasn’t there? That little part of you who longs to slip your leash and go scampering back to your old masters, is that not so?”

He was going to be sick…

“However, you have been remarkably true to your word as well, haven’t you?” Sensei hummed; “you’ve never attempted to run away, you’ve doted on Tenko, you’ve practised with your gun and improved tremendously and so, I have been thinking” he alighted, his body leaning forward. “Such good behaviour deserves a reward, wouldn’t you say?”

‘It’s a trick question… God… God I hate these mind-games… I can’t think… I can’t sleep… I can’t… can’t f*cking breathe…’

“Therefore, you’re going to have a party… an actual one with your friends…”

“N-no…” he whispered; “p-please… please just leave them-m out of this…”

“Shouta-kun, you didn’t let me finish” the older male cut in; “I’m not above… sympathy” he shrugged. “As heartless as I may appear to you, as strange as you may find my ambivalence when it comes to accomplishing my goals, I am a great admirer of human connection and, although I haven’t many myself, we are connected to each other, aren’t we?” he pushed. “Tenko may be my heir and he will come to inherit everything I have built thus far, however, that doesn’t mean that I don’t hold a certain fondness for you and that… will of yours” he chuckled.

‘I… I wish you didn’t… I wish you’d just… just taken my quirk and left me where I was…’

“Ahh, but even on the cusp of such a mile-stone you’re still so young, so sheltered in your outlook, so conditioned by this hero saturated society and naïve about the true nature of the world… however, I am convinced that, given a year or two, you’ll concede properly” he reasoned. “Therefore, you shall have your party, you shall celebrate with your friends to bid them farewell properly and then we’ll move to our winter lodgings” he announced, his hands clapping together to signal the finality of it.

“I am instructing you to make a list of what you would like as, being so old and out of touch with such things, I fear any plans I could put together for you would be dull and uninspiring” he laughed, his head inclining towards him; “give your ideas to Kurogiri by the end of Sunday, alright?”

~*~

Friday evening had rolled around; his labours were done, Tenko was fast asleep, his little arms clutching some kind of monster-based plushie and here he was, sat in his room, the open windows mocking him whilst Gigantomachia sang along to his radio whilst sprawling out on the grass.

He’d been staring at the stark, lined paper of a simple notepad for well over an hour….

His brain was on fire with more and more ridiculous sounding schemes…

Schemes that were doomed to fail…

Plans that would kill his friends…

God… if only he was smart enough; someone like Ida would have thought of a way to manipulate Sensei into slipping up, found a way to get the party placed in an area that he could use to his advantage…

Tch, at this rate he’d end up jotting down something that’d get him in trouble like: ‘I’d like the party to be held at All Might’s Agency’ or ‘can I have a portal-gun for a present’ or ‘my greatest birthday wish would be to go back in time to the school festival with the knowledge I have now so that you’d never f*cking abduct me in the first place’.

f*cking inspired…

Sighing, he put his pen down and moved towards the tempting open windows, his eyes staring helpless at the sky ablaze with a sunset exploding behind the tree-line.

‘… celebrate with your friends to bid them farewell properly…’

sh*t…

That bastard had been right…

He…

He’d really thought that someone would…

That someone would’ve…

‘…no one will care that you’re gone…’

God…

God it hurt…

And it wasn’t as though he blamed them… not… not really…

What could his friends have done?

They didn’t have hero licenses or money or tracking quirks…

They’d hadn’t even been in the country when he was snatched, hell… for all he knew, they might not have realised that he was missing until the new school year started…

He…

He missed them…

He missed Hizashi’s loudness…

He missed Nemuri’s inappropriate jokes…

He missed the feeling of Oboro’s arms around him…

The smoothness of his lips…

The softness of his hair…

The fondness in those azure eyes when he’d looked at him…

Shuddering, his eyes screwing shut, Shouta felt the despair he’d been fighting everyday since he’d been thrown into that bastard car-trunk weigh down on him, that spark of hope Sensei had noted dimming to a barely glowing ember…

No one was coming for him…

No one cared…

He was going to be dragged farther and farther down the rabbit-hole until darkness became his only reality…

And he’d been so stupid, so irrational to think otherwise, hadn’t he?

~*~

Shiretoko Tomoko had really, really missed going for long hikes in her mountains~!

“Ugh… Tomo-chan… can we set up camp soon? I think my legs are gonna fall off…”

Sure, spending the summer with her grandparents up in f*ckushima and been lovely and yes, there’d been more than enough woodland to sate her nature cravings but there was just something about being home, her energetic form dragging her mope of a boyfriend through the darkening trees to set up a camp, that just couldn’t be beaten~!

“Maa-maa, Marco-chan~!” she chided, her form leaping around the rocky, rarely used mountain trail she loved so much; “stop being a grumpy-cat and keep Pusheen-through~!” she grinned, her long lashes fluttering playfully as he scoffed, his frown deepening as his cellphone’s signal dropped completely.

“I can’t believe that I’ve agreed to spend the whole weekend camping in the back end of nowhere” he sighed; “we’ll be going to Univerity soon, Tomo-chan… shouldn’t we be doing something more, I don’t know, grown up then pitching up tents and cooking ramen on a tiny, gas stove?” he sulked.

Rolling her eyes fondly at the man (whose cat-ears and tail had made her fall in love on-sight; her other friends had told her that such things wouldn’t be enough to form a relationship but that sure as hell wouldn’t stop her from trying~!) slouching behind her, Tomoko sucked in a deep, wonderful breath of air before eyeing up one of her favourite climbing trees.

“You want grown-up, huh?” she grinned; “well… this majestic old soul has sure grown-up some, hasn’t it?” she tittered whilst jerking here thumb at the expansive, looming maple: “do you dare me to climb it, hmm?”

“No, I…”

“Hahahaaa~! Challenge accepted~!” she preened, his slender shoulders shucking her backpack before she launched herself at the familiar bark she’d been climbing since her father showed her this trail in her youth.

Ahh~!

Good times~!

Her parent would definitely have been egging her on at this point.

“T-Tomoko~! W-what? Wait! S-sh*t! Be careful~!” her lover called, his tail swishing worriedly as she veritably bounced from branch to branch, her smile growing bigger by the second.

Now this, this was freedom~!

This is what life at any stage should be about~!

“S-slow down you… you’re going to fall~!”

Snorting, her head shaking a touch, the eighteen-year-old steadfastly made her way to the top of her old friend, her eyes gazing at the glorious sunset that no one at ground level would be able to see~!

Incredible~!

“Neh~! Marco-chan? Aren’t you coming?!”

“N-no~!” the beyond exasperated male called back; “God you… you’re crazy, you know that?”

“Crazy beautiful?” she queried cheekily, her eyes once more casting across the plethora of pinks, oranges and golds as they became increasing laced with purples, blues and black, the blanket of stars above her pinpricking with diamonds.

“Can you see our campsite from up there?”

“Of course~!” she chirped; “hang on~! I’m going to check if we have it to ourselves~!” she added, her quirk activating as she looked out over the forest: “looks like we…”

Breaking off, Tomoko felt her eyes widen.

The old lodge that her father had told her to avoid like the plague was… electrified and there were… people in it?

Blinking, she carefully readjusted her position, her mind willing her power to explore further, a gasp leaving her gaping mouth.

There was a darkness… a terrible, cold powerful darkness… a giant… a child… some strange creatures, one somehow corporal and somehow not and…

“A-Aizawa Shouta…” she breathed, the boy’s face having rarely left her mind ever since she’d watched the newscast about his disappearance with her father (who was part of the police force looking for him), his words a cautionary tale about not talking to strangers and going places alone.

Yes…

Yes that was him, there was no question in her mind…

He…

He was devastated…

Blinking out her daze (focus, focus, focus), the feline-love was virtually sprinting down the maple, her expression wild as she grabbed her partner (baulking, yipping, nearly falling over) by the wrist and started dragging him back they way they’d come…

“T-Tomo-c-chan… wha—”

“The second your cellphone has reception, call my dad…”

“W-wha—”

“There’s no time to talk!” she hissed, her serious tone shutting him up immediately; “we need to move now and we need to move fast~!”

Chapter 22: Rescue...

Chapter Text

His Purple Highness had moved with a speed he was pretty sure he’d never reached before…

“All for One is not to be taken likely and, although we have made as many contingency plans as possible, we believe that the success rate given to us by *Sir Nighteye based on this strategy should produce a positive result.”

They were in the mountains which ensconced Musutafu, their bodies moving quietly, stealthily in the pitch-black darkness that the wonderful young lady whose father had rang as many officials as he could to get the word out had led them to, her form determined to guide them…

It was almost one in the morning…

Every Pro that was needed for an extraction (because dealing with the fiend directly would be too difficult and dangerous (All Might would be the only to engage him if necessary), especially given how little information they had to go on) had assembled without delay, their quirks and bodies primed to do what was needed…

“It is imperative that you know your roles and do not activate any form of communication device unless absolutely necessary once we begin; get into your teams, take your night-vision goggles and ensure that you have your emergency medical-kit primed.”

Thank God that Gran Torino and All Might were involved…

Thank God that they knew about Sensei, his nature…

The traps that they were more than likely to encounter…

The quirks he had at his disposal…

“Alpha team, are you in position?”

And now, here he was, his job to run interference and keep the f*cking huge man star-fished asleep in the lodge’s back-yard busy whilst Gran Torino sped Shouta away to safety.

They’d discussed rescuing the small child too; however, every time All Might’s noble sidekick had looked to the main leaders of the rescue-raid when such a plan was discussed, it ended with tragedy.

Sir Nighteye had chosen not to elaborate…

“Alpha team is ready, over and out.”

That was the signal…

Radio silence followed…

He sucked in a breath, his eyes trained on the slumbering giant before they flicked up to the room directly above where the other lay…

This was it…

~*~

All for One let out a deep sigh tinged with annoyance as camera-display after camera-display lit up; he did so despise having to rush and, to know that he’d have to part with Aizawa sooner than he’d wanted made him feel more than just a little resentful.

He’d been very close to breaking him down just enough to rebuild him as he chose.

However, he’d always been a long-term planner and, knowing that one of his most important game-pieces would temporarily be shuffled into the enemy forces would bear much sweeter, much more fulfilling rewards further down the line.

This, all of this, was for his precious heir after all; yes! Poor, little Shimura Tenko…

All for the strong, ruthless, Shigaraki Tomura who would crawl out of the embers of this altercation like a blood-thirsty phoenix ready to set the world alight…

Oh, and how horrified, how distraught, how distressed dear Toshinori would be when Shouta gave the man his successor’s true name…

The last surviving member of that bitch’s line…

The last piece of Shimura Nana that lived on this Earth…

Ahh~! But the look on his face would be priceless.

“Kurogiri?” he called after a chuckle, the IVs he’d been attached to falling away with a mechanised hiss as he stood from his chair, his powerful shoulders rolling as he worked a few kinks out from his neck.

“Yes, Sensei?”

“Plan C is upon us” he told his butler, those lemon eyes narrowing in understanding before he bowed and swirled away to complete his tasks.

Humming contentedly, All for One then wandered to the antique cabinet to his right (it was a pity that such good furniture would go to waste but this was only a small part of his collection), opened it and removed the glock-case he’d kept stored there, his currently exposed smile widening. “Ahh, Shouta-kun” he sighed; “parting will be such sweet sorrow… oh yes, and as for poor Tenko, well? He’ll be so much more angry, so much more resentful at the world of heroes for stealing you away, won’t he?” he grinned.

Then, right on cue…

“Oooff… ow-w… I…”

Turning to see the seventeen-year-old (it was a further shame that he wouldn’t get to watch him squirm through his birthday party, wasn’t it?) who’d been deposited none too gently onto the rich carpet of his study’s floor, the fiend then nodded at Kurogiri.

“W-wha—”

“Shh now, Shouta-kun” he purred as he approached the boy (frightened eyes, trembling frame, dressed in a pair of slightly too big pyjamas dotted with anime, snoring cats; yes, making him look smaller and more innocent was a nice touch); “it’s time for your debut” he stated, his laugh truly pleased as his butler pulled him into a stand. Then, a different collar at the ready, the Nomu clicked it around the startled teen’s neck without preamble, his looming form chuckling along with its master as the erasure quirk user shuddered, his head shaking whilst Sensei stood before him.

“I am sorry that our current time together has been cut so short” he murmured, those gloved hands cupping quaking shoulders; “but, we’ll be together again when the time is right, you’ll see” he assured whilst giving the flesh he held a squeeze: “remember… you’ll only ever be as free as I allow” he cooed. “You are mine” he stated; “and as someone that belongs to me, I expect you to be strong… and I want you to live, I want you to thrive and be happy, gather those you love around you” he urged.

“Only then can you become what I need you to be…”

~*~

Gran Torino considered himself a veteran, a man with an iron-stomach and more courage than he could shake that damned cane he was starting to rely on, at.

However…

“M-my God… what… what are those things?!”

As half-formed, screeching, zombie-like creatures started to pour out of the house in droves, he was finding his famous resolve being tested.

Sir Nighteye had warned them, of course, he’d seen monsters in his vision; however, there seemed to be far more of them and, incredibly, they’d started to run in a dead-sprint…

“S-sh*t!”

Right at Teams Beta and Delta…

“So much for the element of surprise” he muttered to himself; “charge~!!”

Roaring their ascent, he watched (from his position near the top of one of the trees) as the four groups of heroes below him rushed ahead; a woman with a technological quirk had disabled the cloaking device shielding the lodge from view, two ice quirk users were freezing the legs of the horde whilst His Purple Highness led the assault upon the giant.

The giant who looked particularly bored as various power-beams and lasers bounced off of him, his sleepy countenance distinctly unamused as he swatted three people back into the trees, their screams resounding around the forest.

sh*t, sh*t, sh*t~!

He could only hope that Toshinori and his team were having better luck…

~*~

Busting through the lodge’s front door (subtlety, from the commotion clattering all around him, seemed to be out; sh*t, Sir Nighteye had warned them that such a thing was possible), All Might grit his teeth and began charging his way through…

Oh God…

God he prayed that his side-kick’s most dire warning would not be true and yet, as he turned down one of the hallways and into a grand, reception hall, his support team slamming through the other rooms (empty, all empty besides groaning, fiercely fighting Nomu), his eyes landed on what he’d feared…

“There’ll be a boy… he’ll take your quirk… he’ll shoot you and you’ll be injured, not fatally, but you must keep your wits about you… he’ll be fast… he’ll be aiming with the intention to kill but… but when I see his eyes… they’re red, red but blank… yes, I believe that he won’t know himself or what he’s doing…”

‘All for One’ he thought, his power halving when luminous crimson pierced him from across the dimly lit space; ‘I’ll make you pay for this…’

*Bang~!*

Hissing, a sharp pain punching through the meat of his shoulder (he’d only just managed to dodge), Shouta blinked, reactivated his erasure and began his attack in earnest.

The long, flowing fabric about his neck was shooting out, looping and attaching to fixtures that’d been added to the ceiling, his lithe form (bare-foot, dressed in night-ware) gracefully arching up and into the rafters, his gaze locked, the gun trained on him…

*Bang~! Bang~! Bang~!*

“S-sh*t~!”

Rolling out of the way (a bullet ploughed through his foot, grazed his cheek, skirted his hip), Toshinori felt his anger at his arch nemesis quadruple.

The bastard knew he wouldn’t retaliate, he f*cking knew that he couldn’t risk using his strength on the abducted boy.

“Grand Torino” he barked into his comms; “any time now~!” he spat, his eyes watching as the teen flipped in an incredible display of acrobatics, the barrel of the pistol trained upon his forehead.

“I-I’m almost there~! Hold on~! There’re too many enemies—”

Yipping, a far from spectacular (for, although he’d always trained his body, although he was strong even without One for All, since his quirk wasn’t in play, his movements were slower, the impact of his super-moves reduced) Oklahoma Smash swirling around him, he managed to avoid the fatal shot.

The resulting wind, thankfully, had proven strong enough to blow the seventeen-year-old from his perch.

Not that that really helped.

An artful flip had him landing upon the floor, that red gaze blazing again as he sprang from his crouch, the gun once again raised with a cold, ruthless efficiency.

*Bang~! Bang~! Bang~! Bang~!*

One lethal pallet shredded his hair, tapped his other shoulder, nicked his neck…

“Wwwahhh~!”

The final projectile flew past him, the sound of one of his colleagues screaming causing him to lose focus…

He turned around on instinct, his eyes widened as Mr Marvel clutched at the blood pouring from the side of his face; he was only grazed, he was alright, he…

*Bang~! Bang~! Bang~!*

Running away from the corridor leading to the hall, his yell of “get Marvel-san out of here~!” making its way over the din (his fellow Pros had grabbed the man and he would be okay), Toshinori scowled as the bullets which were so close to hitting him smashed the windows, sending sprays of glass all across the hardwood floor.

sh*t~!

Shouta wasn’t himself, he’d go running through that mess… shredding his feet… hurting himself…

“Gran Torino~! Where—”

“I’m here already~!”

Watching, the relief he felt warring with his worry, All Might released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding as the older man flew inside, his movements too quick for the raven-haired teen (who’s sights were solely set on him) to register…

“C’m’ere, kid~!”

Then, in three, rapid movements, the gun was kicked out of the boy’s hand, he was grabbed about the waist and subsequently flown outside.

Thank God, he…

“Congratulations, Yagi-san.”

Spinning, steam billowing from his nostrils, Toshinori glared at a gaseous, smartly dressed man who’d appeared from nowhere to offer him a slow, sarcastic clap; “Sensei sends his regards and has told me to tell you not to worry about the mess” he cooed, his vaporous form starting to swirl away.

“How many of you will survive this old place exploding, I wonder?”

Gasping, his arms flinging over his face as a bright light erupted through the floorboards, the number one Pro hardly had time to brace himself when a barrage of heat and a cacophony of noise flew up around him.

*“Ssshhhiiiitttttt~!!”

~*~

His Purple Highness could not believe this bullsh*t~!

“W-what the f*ck is that stuff? Gas~?!”

The giant (who’d knocked seven people unconscious, almost fatally injured five more and damn-near knocked his beautiful head from his shoulders) had just been eaten up by a shroud darkness so much thicker than the early-morning night, his grin sh*t-eating as he had the nerve to wave at them before vanishing.

Well…

sh*t…

None of them had been able to land a single, effective hit; however, as he disappeared, Mister found himself suddenly caring less, his eyes narrowing to Gran Torino as he zipped away from the lodge, his arms carrying…

“Broody-boy~!”

“Watch out, he’s…”

Yelping, the veteran hero’s head snapped to the right, his body plummeting to the grass thanks to teenager’s viciously thrown fist, his lithe form touching down a second after the old man he’d felled, his luminous crimson eyes locking onto the nearest Pro as he lunged.

“W-w-what~!”

“Shouta, don’t~!” he yelled, his legs moving him before he truly knew what he was doing, his gaze narrowing in shock as the teen plucked the titanium knife he used for slicing his capture weapon from where it’d been concealed in the back of pyjama pants, his hand wielding it offensively at the baulking hero he’d targeted.

“No!”

*BBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMM~!!*

Everything had happened so fast…

One second, his hand was almost on that blade-gripping fist…

The next, there’d been a flash…

Then a terrible shift in pressure…

And…

Darkness…

~*~

“… collar was a real piece of work, we’re lucky it didn’t detonate during the blast…”

Shouta hadn’t been dreaming a great deal, lately; he’d seen it as a blessing, he’d put it down to fatigue, it’d been better than waking up screaming, or crying or shaking.

“… some kind of toxin, possibly produced by a quirk…”

However, as he lay there, somewhere between wakefulness and slumber, he found himself being subjected to some kind of subconscious-produced conversation.

‘Please don’t become a nightmare… please just let me rest… I’m so tired…’

“… flushed out of his system…”

He thought he recognised some of the voices (memories sent to taunt him) and, for once, it wasn’t Sensei’s crooned whispering of terrible things to come.

“… should be back to himself when he wakes up but we’ll keep those restraints on him, just in case…”

‘R-restraints?’

Wait…

He was being restrained?

Why?

That didn’t…

“Oh Shou… how I’d love to just strap you down in my bed, spread those pretty legs and make you scream for me…” Kurogiri had growled at him once; oh no… no… was he there? Had he grabbed him? Were they in whatever room the bastard used?

‘N-no… no… no… no~!’

“P-please… please don’t” he heard himself plead through a whisper, his legs (Oh God, oh no, oh sh*t, he couldn’t move them!) trying to pull together; sh*t… had he been drugged? Was that what the toxin was for?

“I bet you’d take my co*ck so good… I bet you’d beg me to f*ck you on it…”

“N-no… no… d-don’t… don’t t-t-touch me…”

“Shouta-kun?”

“I’m going to have you cry my name until you’re hoarse…”

Trembling, his eyes screwed shut, his fists bunched in the covers, his breathing hiking; it’s a dream, he’s never touched you, he can’t touch you, S-Sensei wouldn’t let him…

“Doctor, what is…”

“Shall I take my time to prepare you properly or should I just take you, hmm?”

“No!”

Fighting as hard as he could (there were hands on him, more than two, oh no… oh no, oh no, oh no!), Shouta screamed in horror; “don’t you touch me! Don’t you f*cking dare! Get off of me! Get away from me!” he howled.

There were more voices now, too many; his eyes were covered, his body was hyperventilating, there was something pressing down on his jerking knees, a sharp scratch in his arm.

No! Not more drugs! That bastard was going to rape him… he was going to be raped…

“N-no…” he sobbed; “p-please… please don’… p-please don’t r-rape me… d-don d-do it… p-please…” he whimpered, his words slurring, his body going lax; the main sound he could make out over the garbled tangle of noises and voices overhead was his own, frightened whining.

He’d known this was coming…

It’d only been a matter of time…

He couldn’t avoid consequences forever…

“O-Oboro…” he breathed; “m… m sorr-ry…”

Chapter 23: The end of Arc 1

Chapter Text

Yagi Toshinori had seen and experienced many things in his twenty-eight years of life, however, as he sat beside the sleeping teenager (his brow was still furrowed even when peace should be upon him), he found his heart fracturing once more.

If he’d been able to stop All for One when they’d last fought three years ago…

If he’d been able to subdue him, arrest him and throw his ass in Tartarus, then…

Then this young man and that child wouldn’t have had to suffer…

“You really should go home and get some rest, you dig?”

Blinking out of his thoughts, All Might turned away from the boy (his physical wounds healed, his psychological ones still raw and bleeding) whose skin was almost the same, milky pallor as the bedding he lay in (the only splashes of colour being the raven of his hair and the tubes threaded in and out of him) to see Mister Prince in the doorway.

Like him, Recovery Girl had seen to his (mostly, thank God) superficial wounds and, like him, he’d refused to leave the hospital.

He held two coffees in his hands.

“Thank you, my friend” he murmured as the man approached to sit beside him in the other (decidedly small, but he’d manage) plastic chair; “but… but I fear I cannot rest until I have seen him awake and assured him of his safety” he admitted, a grateful nod leaving him when the cup of hot, sweetened caffeine was offered.

“Yeah, I hear you” the older man tried to chuckle (the sound was both tired and relieved), his eyes slipping to his trainee (and, with any luck, his ward); “man… this morning sure was crazy, huh?”

“Ah, crazy would be one word for it” he mused, a sip of the beverage helping to perk him up; “it is… truly remarkable that there were no fatalities” he added quietly, a flicker of guilt mixed anger sparking through him: “but… but he still got away… and he took a child, an innocent, along with him…”

“Muscle-child, if I may?” the other cut in, those dark eyes serious as they regarded each other; “having the weight of a free, mostly settled world on your shoulders is enough without adding to it” he breathed: “yes, you are the symbol of peace and yes, your skillset is almost as big as your heart, but” he furthered, a brotherly hand patting his shoulder. “You’re human, too” he reminded; “you’re not God… you can’t be everywhere alla time and fix everything” he chuffed: “in this life… what victories we get are victories to treasure” he murmured. “So stop beating yourself up about things that you haven’t done, be proud of the things you have and don’t stop moving forward” he advised, his sigh leaving him.

Smiling softly, the warmth of that advice seeping through him, Toshinori allowed himself a chuckle.

“Thank you” he breathed; “I… I really needed to hear that…”

~*~

Yawning (sh*t… had he overslept? Surely there should be a Nomu knocking on his door by now), Shouta fluttered his lashes in an attempt to open his eyes.

God…

He felt like sh*t…

Was he sick?

“Hey there, broody-boy…”

Blinking, baulking and sitting up regardless of his aches and pains, the erasure quirk user stared, almost unseeingly, at His Purple Highness, All Might, a guy dressed as a doctor and a woman dressed as a police officer.

Oh…

Oh God was, he…

Had they…

sh*t!

“Take me back” he breathed, his eyes shrinking in horror whilst he started reaching for the various probes, IVs and wires tacked all over him; “you’ve got to take me back!”

“Whoa… whoa~!” his mentor called, his body moving to gently stop the other whilst the doctor also approached, a few nurses also flooding in around him; “Shouta, Shouta, what? Hey, hey! You’ve got to calm down…”

“You don’t understand!” he yelled, his tone becoming hysterical; “m-my friends… he’s going to kill my…”

“Shouta” the purple (bandaged? Were there tears in his usually perfect costume? Was that dirt?) costumed Pro breathed; “listen to me… the others are fine, we have Pros shadowing them and their kin, they’ve all been given panic-buttons and we’ve even tracked down Mr Shirakumo and Mr Yamada in America and Nemuri-chan’s family in Italy, alright?”

Slowing his panicked motions, his eyes stinging with tears, the seventeen-year-old felt his first sob leave him; “t-they’re-e… o-okay… you… you’re sure?”

Gently moving one of the nurses to the side, Prince was sat next to the boy in an instant, his arms enveloping him in a hug as he cried into his jacketed shoulder; “t-they’re fine, Shou” he promised: “heh… they’ve been climbing the walls of their private waiting room since they got here at six” he chuckled. “Hell, if it wasn’t for All Might blocking the door I think they’d be puppy-piled all over you” he grinned, a tear or two slipping from his own eyes as the tension finally bled out of the room.

“B-but… but how did you…”

“All for One is possibly the greatest evil this country has ever known” Toshinori said from where he was stood at the foot of the bed, his blue gaze full of sympathy and pride; “knowing the kind of person you are, once we knew he was the villain behind your abduction, concluding that he was holding their welfare to ransom was, sadly, only logical” he stated. “You have done incredibly well to survive, Aizawa-kun…”

“W-wait” he breathed, his hands once again bunching in the bedding; “what about Tenko?” he asked: “I… I can’t really remember most of what happened, I… I was asleep and then I was in the study and…” he trailed off, a crack of pain wracking through his head.

“Don’t try to push yourself, young man” the doctor warned; “you’ve been exposed to an incredibly potent toxin which our analysis has shown to have mind-altering properties” he explained, his kind, otter-featured face painted with concern. “Try to rest some more, alright? And a breakfast plate is being made for you, so please try your best to eat and drink what you’re given, okay?”

Nodding, a quick “ugh… please… no fish” leaving him, the doctor blinked, smiled and nodded at the pretty nurse beside him, her hands jotting something down as she made to leave the room.

“Aizawa-kun, if I may?” the police officer (quite high-ranking based on her uniform; he could see two more officers bracketing the doorway behind her); “I know that you’ve been through a lot…”

“I’ll tell you everything I know” he stated, his face determined despite the redness ringing eyes, his gaze then quickly turning to back to number one Pro at his feet; “but… but Tenko… Tenko is he…”

“I’m sorry, Shouta-kun” he sighed; “we searched the lodge as much as we could before it exploded…”

“E-exploded?!”

“… but we believe that All for One’s associate, the one who is able to teleport, took him and anyone else in their forces away somewhere” he continued, his shoulders deflating; “I’m very sorry, truly…”

Nodding quietly at the apology, the erasure quirk user briefly closed his eyes, a shudder running through him.

The boy would be so terribly, terribly angry with him for leaving but…

But, as he sat here, his mentor holding him whilst sunlight streamed in through windows that weren’t guarded by Gigantomachia, he found that he could push that guilt aside, for now.

‘I’ll find a way to save you, Ten-kun’ he thought; ‘I promise…’

~*~

Listening to the details had been… difficult.

“So, his dark-art has been developed this far, has it?” he could hear Gran Torino murmur in his ear; he’d kept his comms live, the information that their rescued charge was offering filtered off to various police personnel, Interpol and interested hero agencies alongside Abe Hebiko at UA; “a sentient Nomu, my God…”

However, as the words washed over him, Toshinori couldn’t help the bloom of admiration rival that of the feeling of shock which’d originally visited him.

Shouta had lived through a mind-bending nightmare that a man twice his age would struggle to cope with and yet, here he was, reeling off any information that he thought would help, that he thought would be useful.

A true hero in the making.

“His full name, which he confirmed for me and… and I don’t think he was lying… is Shimura Tenko…”

W-w-what?!

No…

No, it… it couldn’t be…

It had to be a coincidence… yes… yes it had to be…

Nana’s family they… they’d all been killed…

He’d attended the funeral, he…

“S-Shimura?” he gasped, his hands grasping the metal foot-end of the bed, his fingers denting it in his distress; “you’re certain?”

Blinking, that sad, tired face resolute, Shouta nodded.

Oh…

Oh God…

Could All for One have stooped that low?

But, of course…

Of course he could…

He could hear that laugh, that cursed, vile, disgusting laugh ringing around his head…

“P-please… please excuse me” he murmured, his muscle-bound form moving quickly to exit the room, the sound of Gran Torino demanding that the feed be paused buzzing around his ears whilst he made his way to the nearest stairwell.

He needed to get outside…

He needed to breathe…

The roof…

Yes, the roof was perfect because…

*“Take more pride, Toshinori! You're not like the others who're born with what they have~! I’m so proud of you, you know~?!”

He needed to scream in a place that wouldn’t disturb anyone…

~*~

“Can we see him now? Please, please, please, please, please?!”

It’d just turned eight a.m. and, haphazardly dressed in whatever jeans and t-shirts they had to hand when the call from His Purple Highness came through at six, the three members of their roof-top quartet were on the verge of rioting.

So what if Shouta had vital information?

So what if the police had a job to do, they…

“Yes, yes… you can see him now but-t-t— ahh~! Slow down~! This is a hospital~!”

Skittering down the (thankfully empty) corridor, their sneakers (and Nemuri’s high-heels) clattering and squeaking in their haste, the three UA students who’d somehow managed not to barge into the two police officers regarding them with quirked brows crowded the door way, their eyes zeroing into the room.

“H-hey guys…”

Oboro couldn’t breathe…

None of them dared to move…

“Ugh… m’sorry, you know… for all of the trouble…”

Gasping, his clouds ferrying them over to the bed (he could see His Purple Highness watching them from the chair he was sat in, his head shaking ruefully; he wasn’t moving to stop them), the four teenagers were grappling onto each other (the equipment around Shouta be damned)…

It was messy…

It was loud…

It had the nurses growling at them but, in that moment, their words garbled, their hands touching, holding, grasping to prove that this was real, to prove they were finally together again, they found that they couldn’t give a damn.

“Shou~!!”

They had their friend back and they would never let him go again…

Chapter 24: Home...

Chapter Text

Staying in the hospital for the rest of Saturday until Sunday morning hadn’t exactly been ideal (he’d laughed, genuinely, for the first time in just under ten weeks when All Might and His Purple Highness had to physically carry his friends away at the close of visiting hours) but it’d allowed him time to rest and process things.

His apartment had been cleared and rented out to someone else (not someone from the Asset Program, though, as apparently his abduction had called for a pretty big shake-up of the whole thing); his few, meagre possessions had been secured by Mister Prince.

The man had applied to be his legal guardian…

He’d been blown away by the offer, really…

He’d told him that he was almost eighteen…

It wasn’t worth the time and money he’d have to spend…

The Pro had just bundled him up in a hug and promised him that if it was only his age and the money that would stop him from having a guardian, a place to live as long as he wanted it and the same freedom he would have to live his life (within reason; the man was insisting on regular therapy sessions, plenty of rest and down-town) then he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer.

So, he’d said yes…

It’d felt really, really good to know that he wouldn’t be living alone in that place again; as much as he wanted to put a brave face on it, he was… actually, really, very worried about being totally by himself…

Kurogiri seemed able to appear anywhere at any time, didn’t he?

They’d taken him so easily the first time without the Nomu’s help, too, hadn’t they?

sh*t…

There was only so much he could do to protect himself…

Did any of that matter, anyway?

Did it?

‘No’ a small, frightened voice at the back of his mind murmured; ‘ it doesn’t matter who you’re with or where; if Sensei wants you back, then back you’ll go...’

He shuddered at the thought, his eyes shifting around the room.

There was nothing to say that he wasn’t being watched, even now, was there?

The villain (All for One, Toshinori had called him) was powerful and wealthy beyond imagination (Gran Torino had told him as much when they’d chatted earlier that afternoon; he’d profusely apologised for hitting him (he couldn’t remember doing so) whilst the other had laughed it off and complimented his technique) so he could be anywhere.

See anything…

Do anything…

It was a sobering thought, a thought that even offers of witness protection, beefed up security and having a body-guard hadn’t managed to soothe; he’d rejected all of those things, of course.

He didn’t want to put anymore people at risk (he was beyond grateful that his friends and their families were being looked after, though) and, despite everything that’d happened, he still wanted to be a hero.

That was something he could do, at least, to try and make the world Sensei hated so much a better place, a more united place where the slithering evil of his cause couldn’t thrive.

Gaining his full license would also get him one step closer to building an Agency with his lover and friends…

One step closer to finding Tenko and rescuing him, too…

Heh, sadly, he’d have to leave dealing with All for One to people like All Might, wouldn’t he?

He wasn’t an idiot, he knew ever trying to find and fight that man himself would end badly… regardless of how angry, how livid he was about the bastard threatening his friends, stealing his peace and trying to change him, trying to use him he couldn’t afford to be irrational.

What good would it do to throw his life away?

Sighing, he settled back into the pillows, his eyes briefly casting towards the two police officers bracketing his doorway.

Two more people who could be hurt because of him…

Maybe…

Maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to rush into his friends’ arms…

Maybe he shouldn’t accept Mister Prince’s guardianship…

Maybe he shouldn’t continue to see Oboro as his boyfriend…

Maybe… it would have been better to have accepted witness protection…

He’d have been given a new identity, sent to live somewhere else…

It…

It was selfish of him to want to stay, wasn’t it?

He was putting them all in terrible danger, and…

*Bzz, bzz, bzz*

Blinking, the erasure quirk user looked to the new phone (a gift from Toshinori (he’d insisted on the first name basis, the big-hearted dope); top of the line, encrypted, the works) lying on the tray-table next to him, his hand reaching for it quickly, his eyes widening along with his smile.

“Don’t think that I won’t be texting you, like, all of the time, okay?”

“You’re a menace.” he typed with a grin; “we’ve only been apart for what? Ten minutes?”

“Ten minutes too long~!!” Oboro wrote back, a crying face emoji train rapidly following.

Chuckling, his fingers slowly getting back into a texting rhythm he’d almost forgotten, Shouta settled down into the softness of his hospital bed and allowed himself to indulge.

Sure, it was selfish…

But he wasn’t a saint and, as his loved ones had been spending the majority of the Saturday they’d spent together telling him, they were on their way to becoming heroes, there was no such thing as perfect safety even if they weren’t.

Their families knew and understood that too; Hizashi’s mom had even gone as far as calling them, her tearfully-pleased voice daring anyone to mess with her boy and his friends before detailing the many, many ways in which she’d personally make them sorry.

Heh…

Even All Might had been impressed…

~*~

“M-Mister-san… this is… really, too much.”

As Sunday morning rolled around he’d gotten up, washed, gotten dressed in the clothes Nemuri had brought by for him on Saturday and eaten his preferred breakfast (and God, white-toast with butter had never tasted so good; if he never saw a bowl of fish porridge again it’d be too soon). Then (because stopping them would be impossible) he’d allowed his friends and guardian (the papers were signed, the deal as good as done) to guide him from the hospital, into a taxi and straight to The Purple Revolution’s HQ.

“Nonsense~!” the Pro cried whilst he strutted into the bedroom he, his friends and the Agency’s staff had made up for him; “broody-boy, you deserve all of this and more” he stated, a sassy finger snap following his words whilst all of those around him nodded: “if it wasn’t for you actually favouring minimalism there’d have been so much more~!”

Smiling softly, Shouta nodded his gratitude as he looked around the chamber (again, this place was bigger than the entirety of his old apartment), his eyes wide and pleased…

“Now, you must tell me if there is anything you don’t like, alright? I won’t be offended and things can always be auctioned off for charity, okay?”

The walls were a pale lilac and dotted with various, cat-related posters alongside framed certificates (that they must have collected from UA), glow in the dark-stars and the Felix-Cat-Clock that Oboro had bought for him, its tail and eyes merrily swishing between two wide, standard bullet-proof, windows…

“Oh~! And we’re going shopping when you’re ready, young man~! I don’t care if its online or at the local mall but no ward of mine is only going to have only six sets of clothes, you hear?”

There was a sprinkling of tasteful, black, glossy-varnished furniture peppered about; a set of wardrobes on the back wall beside the bathroom-door, a set of draws with a black-framed mirror hung over it, a desk complete with a brand-new computer and draws for his school work, two book shelves and a wall-mounted TV. At the room’s centre was a fluffy, multicoloured rug with four huge, bean-bag chairs and, beside the room’s only entrance, a western-bed (covered in Pusheen bedding) with two side tables stood.

The black Kitty-Kitty he’d won at the school festival was sprawled in the middle of it, its silken body surrounded by four other, smaller plush cats; one black, one yellow, one purple and one blue.

There was also an All Might doll resting there on the fat, soft looking pillows.

In the far corner, his hero-outfit (with his goggles, sheathed knife, capture weapon and favourite biker boots) was displayed on a mannequin; a pile of extra jump-suits were neatly stacked in a small, shelving unit next to the body-shape alongside a spare pair of goggles…

“There are locks on the bathroom door for privacy but, just in case I… I haven’t had any fitted to the bedroom one but, if you want them, you can have them, alright?”

There were framed photographs of him and his friends splashed around every other surface, too…

“T-this” he tried, his words cut off by a choke; “I… I love it all, t-thank you, I… ooooff~!”

Chuckling, a few vain attempts at pushing them away and telling them to “k-knock i-it off, you’re… s-squishin’ me…” leaving him, Shouta allowed the (maybe not as illogical as he’d previously thought) physical contact (hugs, hair-ruffles, a quick kiss to his cheek from Oboro) to continue.

It…

It felt so good to be wanted…

~*~

Settling in, of course, had been relatively easy; the rest of the morning saw him and his friends goofing around, laughing, hugging and thoroughly enjoying the bean-bag chill-out space.

Nemuri’s mother had dropped off Sushi (as well as a care-package and a hug so tight he thought his lungs would collapse) and, by the time Trailblazer had pounced into the room demanding that they have a pizza-party for lunch, no excuses, the rooftop quartet had finally slowed down, their excitement petering to contentment as they sprawled across his bed together.

His Purple Highness would no doubt be calling them down to the Agency’s canteen soon, the ordered pizza all laid out and ready to eat.

“I know that you don’t want to hear this” Shouta breathed, his fingers carefully rubbing through the purring cat’s soft, striped fur as he snoozed on his chest; “but… I’m, I’m really sorry, you know?”

“Shou” Hizashi breathed, his body nestled into his left side, his girlfriend resting atop him whilst Oboro snuggled into the raven-haired teen’s right side, an arm resting over the erasure quirk user’s t-shirt covered, washboard stomach; “buddy, you’ve got to…”

“No, please… I… I need to say this” he said; he couldn’t look at them, he didn’t trust himself not to completely break down.

He continued to stare at Sushi’s slumbering, little face instead.

“It’s not just that you’re all in danger or that you, an’ your families, could-d be targeted… because… because of me” he tried; “but… you… you were all supposed to have, you know… your summer vacations with your… and you… you must have been…” he closed his eyes; “I… I didn’t mean to ruin your…”

“If you’re going to apologise for us not having our holidays, I need to stop you right there” his partner breathed, his body pressing more deeply into the other’s side; “hey… hey look at me, look at me” he murmured, his smile shaky when the raven-haired boy inclined his head towards him. “Shou” he breathed, the hand that’d been splayed over his front moving up to capture one of the other’s; “what’s one summer? What’s a few weeks that we’ve been able to enjoy, with our families, for most of our lives every year, a-anyway, huh?” he asked, his own eyes tearing. “What does any of that matter, how could any of that compare to finding you, huh?”

“B-but…”

“No but-t-s or I’ll… I’ll smack you~!” Nemuri cut in, her wobbly eyes and smile matching those of her boyfriend (who was now happily crushed beneath her as she glowered at the shortest member of their group); “you’re our best friend you self-sacrificing, faux-tsundere-idiot~!” she furthered. “We love you, okay?! And we’re going to be screaming it at you until you get it, you k-know~! It’ll be embarrassing~! There’ll be a parade if you’re not careful~!” she gushed, all of them trying to hold back their tears.

“Did someone say parade~!?”

Blinking, the group looked to the bedroom’s doorway where Trailblazer was stood, her fists sparking multicoloured lights as she performed a kind of wacky, cheerleader routine.

Laughing, Oboro gently scooped up Sushi as they all got up and followed the now loudly singing tech-genius out of the room and down the stairs, the chant of “pizza~! Party~! Pizza~! Parade~!” echoing around the Agency as the other Pros who lived and worked there caught on…

Chapter 25: I'll always listen...

Chapter Text

Principle Abe Hebiko personally bringing him the work he’d missed from the last two weeks and what he’d be missing this week (the police still needed to talk to him, therapy sessions needed to be arranged and the UA student body probably wouldn’t flash-mob him so much once things had settled down) and apologising to him that morning had been… weird.

However, that paled in comparison to the new head of the Government Asset Program just dropping by to bow at him before the flashes of multiple cameras and a film-crew.

“Aizawa-kun~! Aizawa-kun~! Please, what do you have to say in response to this apology!?”

God, he hated all of this attention…

“Will you be pursuing legal-action?!”

He didn’t like all of these people crowding around the Agency, either; didn’t these guys realise that this was a place of work?

“Are you still going to be attending UA after they failed to help and support you during the course?!”

sh*t…

“Is it true that you were brain-washed and tried to assassinate All Might?!”

Was this what Toshinori had to deal with every day?

“Is it true that you’ve been approached by Shiketsu High? Will you be accepting their offer of a full scholarship?!”

God…

“Do you truly still think you can be a hero after enduring so much trauma before your career has even started~?!”

This was exhausting…

“Do you have a message for the people responsible for your abduction~?!”

Coughing to actually get their attention (he could see Mister Prince in his periphery; he and his teams looked just about ready to start kicking the journalists off of their property and he couldn’t allow that, he only wanted the world to see his mentor in a positive light, after all), Shouta stepped away from the protective arch of the Pros that’d assembled around him.

He was dressed in a white, button-up shirt and black dress pants, his long hair tied up in a bun (if it wasn’t so important to appear okay and composed, then he would’ve greeted them in his sleeping-bag with a scowl; however, this press-conference wasn’t really about him… not really), his face calm but serious.

“Thank you for your time today” he began with a small, polite bow; “and for your many well wishes and enquiries about my health after such a… trying time” he managed, a little flicker of pleasure crossing his psyche when a few of the journalists had the decency to look ashamed.

Not a single one of them had bothered to do something so decent, had they?

Behind him, he could swear that he heard his guardian mutter something derogatory about their lack of manners and concern; he knew, when his friends watched this later (they were all at UA at the moment, sitting a written exam, poor things) that they’d appreciate that point, too.

“In regards to the Asset Program and the new administration leading it, I have accepted their apology and hope that the new measures to protect people like myself who wish to become heroes are put into place immediately” he furthered, his heavy gaze landing on the new Head of Operations, that old head bowing reverently as he was photographed. “I will not be pursuing legal action at this time, however, if the drastic reforms that’ve been promised don’t come to pass for the orphans still involved with this Program, then that will change” he added, a little smile tilting his lips; “All Might, himself, has offered his legal team in that eventuality” he stated.

“A-All Might-o, but…”

“I would also like to give my thanks to Shiketsu High for their generous offer” he carried on, effectively cutting through the woman who’d tried to ask another question; “however, I plan to finish my placement at UA and am very grateful for the opportunity to do so” he said, his small smile becoming genuine as he spoke.

“Thank you” he finished with another, polite bow, his form turning and retreating behind the line of Pros who closed ranks behind him, the sounds of his guardian trying to shoo them away (“this is a hero Agency, people! And that young man has got better things to do than be picked apart by you, you hear?!”) somehow carrying above the din.

Heh…

Thank God that was over…

He… he felt awful for not making a statement about Tenko but… Gran Torino was right; letting the media know that a mad man had the boy would do more harm than good. That, and acknowledging Sensei in any capacity was something to be avoided; that egomaniac had enough of the country’s attention without him being directly connected to his abduction.

Plus, if All for One’s name was linked to his, then it would take months for the press to forget who he was and could make him a target for other villains looking to make a name for themselves…

“You did wonderfully Shouta~kun! You’re a natural in front of the camera~! Why, we’ll make a public Pro Hero out of you yet, I’m sure~!”

Smiling up at Toshinori (who’d probably been spending more time checking up on him than he should; another person he was inconveniencing), the towering hero standing just inside the Agency’s main entrance (out of sight for the time being), the younger man blushed a little at the praise (and a little in mortification at the thought of being a media-darling).

Plus… he’d not really done anything to warrant such a response, really…

“Oh… ahh, thanks but no thanks” he tried to laugh off, his right hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly before he truly regarded the (much; sh*t… would have ever reach six foot?) taller man; “how do you deal with that all of the time?” he asked, his head co*cking back the way he’d come. “It’s got to be, I don’t know, really stressful for you” he murmured, their eyes meeting again; “and I bet people don’t really stop to think and appreciate you for it, either” he huffed, his gaze re-narrowing at the news-hungry reports still flooding the security gates.

“S-Shouta-kun, it’s…”

“Just know that I appreciate it, alright?” he quickly said, his tone a little flustered; just because he’d been exposed to a greater range of emotions lately didn’t mean that he was comfortable with them, after all: “and… everything else, too” he added before, the big man not responding to him, he nodded and continued his way inside.

Monday afternoon was rapidly approaching which meant that Oboro would be arriving soon; it wasn’t exactly romantic but he’d asked if they could just spend the evening together (His Purple Highness would be making sure that his other trainee got home okay) and the cloud quirk user had actually jumped at the chance.

He’d been too delighted by the other’s acceptance to particularly care about the kissy noises Hizashi and Nemuri had been making behind him…

~*~

Yagi had felt his heart actually squeeze as that soft, genuine thanks fluttered through his ears and nested in his disbelieving brain…

He’d been so touched, become so flustered, in fact, that he’d not been able to say anything…

“I appreciate it, alright?”

Oh, Shouta-kun…

After going through so much, after having to wait that long to be saved, he…

“N-no~! This is private property, ma’am~! Don’t make me call the po-lice~!”

Blinking out of his stupor (sh*t… he’d been too busy watching the young man walk away to remember he had a job to do!), the symbol of peace cleared his throat, set a reminder on his phone to text the teen later (to apologise for not thanking him in person! So very rude and thoughtless, Yagi!) before jumping out of the Agency.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please~!” he called, the sound of gasps, cries of his name and the flashes of cameras not quite as pleasant in the light of the soft, gentle words he’d just received; however, he had a job to do, didn’t he?

“Come, come now~! I am here and more than happy to answer any of your questions~!”

~*~

Shirakumo Oboro genuinely didn’t mind having his own security detail (and he would have for the next month or so at least, the panic-buttons and Pros checking in would continue much long though, for obvious reasons; Hizashi said it made him feel like a rock-star, Nemuri? A model, and even their folks seemed cool with it; his little brother had been thrilled). The guy (O-san) was friendly, unintrusive and happy enough to help him carry the baskets of presents that his classmates had loaded him with as he’d left UA that afternoon.

Since he was Shouta’s official class liaison, he’d been allowed to leave an hour early (and would be for the rest of the week since his partner would be re-joining class the following Monday), his smile bright as a car pulled up for them to enter.

“Heh, that’s quite the haul of goodies you got there, kid” N-san greeted, his sun-glass covered eyes appraising him through the rear-view mirror.

Smiling at him widely, the eighteen-year-old chuckled, his hands displaying a few bags before he buckled his seat-belt; “yeah~ the Class rep spent the whole weekend rallying everyone” he revealed: “Shou’s going to flip-out over all of the fuss but… he deserves it, you know?”

“I’m sure that he does” the driver offered, his steady hands seamlessly pulling them away from the curb, out of UA’s guest parking lot and into the light flow of traffic; “he doing okay?”

Blinking, the question catching him off guard, the blue eyed teen felt his smile dim a touch.

“That’s what I’ve been wondering, too” he admitted quietly, his gaze drifting to the window, his attention flitting from vehicle to vehicle; “he’s always been quiet… reserved” he sighed: “and… for the longest time, before he really started opening up to me, I thought that it might just be his personality type, you know?” he sighed. “There’re so many people my age from good homes with decent families who are shy and introverted and I… I feel like such an idiot for not, you know, asking if he was okay before, well… all of this” he gestured vaguely, his brows furrowing; “what’s worse is that he’s so good at putting up a front” he huffed. “But that’s not going to stop me from doing everything I can to help him become okay” he stated, his tone firm.

“Oh yeah?” N-san chuckled, his smile fond whilst O-san grinned, his fingers blasting off several text messages; “heh, sounds like you got one or two plans in mind, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah you could say that” Oboro replied, a cheeky smile brightening away any of the sadness he’d briefly felt; “you could say that for sure…”

~*~

Watching as his partner floated into his bedroom (he’d just finished writing up an essay discussing the values of certain rescue-techniques, his mind a little blurry (because what he’d been studying in the summer had been so radically different; Sensei only had him cover battle strategies and combat with Tenko) and glad for the rest), Shouta felt his eyes widen.

“Umm… what the heck is all of that?”

“Why, they’re gifts for you, my love~!” the other called dramatically, his arms gesticulating grandly all over the bags, baskets and gift-wrapped boxes.

Rolling his eyes fondly, the shorter teen got up from his desk with a stretch, his bare feet padding over the soft carpeting to regard the plethora of presents, his head shaking ruefully; “gifts, huh?” he asked, those dark eyes glistening: “umm… you, you can put them over there, thanks” he murmured, his cheeks pinking a little. “Ugh… all I really want right now is, umm, well…” he trailed off, the mortification of asking his boyfriend for something as (apparently) basic as being held making his insides squirm a little.

sh*t…

He was really, truly terrible at these things, wasn’t he?

Blinking, his body hopping off of the nimbus he quickly sent away, Oboro was wrapping his shorter (still too thin, the muscles he could feel under the fabric of his thin t-shirt hard, toughened from repeated use; he’d said that the bastard who’d taken him had him training at least five hours a day, every day, amongst other things) partner into a warm embrace.

“Ahh… I’ve been looking forward to this all day” he spoke into that raven-hair, his feet rocking them slightly in a sway; “we watched you kicking ass and taking names at lunch time” he furthered, his arms giving the other (so strong, so fragile) a tighter squeeze: “it was a good job that Yagi-senpai stepped in before Mister completely lost his cool, wasn’t it?”

Chuckling, his face buried in the other’s neck, Shouta nodded a little whilst just focusing on breathing the other in.

Hearing his heartbeat…

He was so much different to the fiend who’d used his voice against him…

Those cold, icy vaporous hands nothing like the warm, solid ones cupping his shoulder-blades…

“D’you wanna talk about it?”

Blinking, the erasure quirk user pulled away slightly, his face uncertain.

“I don’t want to push you Shou… and I never want to make you feel uncomfortable” the white-haired youth breathed, his tone sincere, those oceanic eyes warm, alive and drinking him in like he was something beautiful to behold; “but… I don’t want you bottling things up, either” he murmured. “Nemu and Zashi, they’d be saying the same things if they were here, hell, they have been since we got you back but…” he said, his handsome features softening; “they… they don’t love you the way that I do, you know?”

Feeling a gasp escape him as the confession of his feelings, Shouta sucked in a slow, shallow breath…

“I… I know” he replied, a little tremor running through him; “I… I feel the same way I… I just…”

“Hey” Oboro cut in lightly; “you don’t have to say anything else… only what you want to, only what you need to, okay?” he smiled, his body rocking them a little slower in the quiet, sun-warmed room: “and I’m always gonna want to listen, too… okay?”

Chapter 26: A cause of joy...

Chapter Text

The rest of the week had flown by in a blur of His Purple Highness and the Purple Revolution team trying to wait on him hand and foot, three sessions with his new therapist and afternoons crammed with his friends (and some of their family, too; Nemuri and Hizashi’s mothers were checking in, suggesting clothing choices and offering him their ears).

He shouldn’t have been surprised that such things were too good to last…

“Shirakumo-san?”

Mister Prince had guided the petite, pale haired woman (her family’s quirk line having passed down to both Oboro and his little brother) into the Agency’s waiting room (blessedly empty) and offered to make tea; the nurse had thanked him but said that she wouldn’t be staying long.

She’d asked to speak with him privately.

It was eleven o’clock on Friday morning.

He was starting to associate Friday’s with bad news.

“Aizawa-kun” she said softly, those blue eyes (darker and stormier than her oldest child’s) pinning him to his chair; “how are you?”

“I’m…” ‘still not sleeping right, I have to have a light on in case any shadows move, I see Tenko’s angry face every time I close my eyes, Sensei’s laugh rings in my head when it’s quiet, I… I can still feel the weight of that gun in my hand’ “… getting there” he managed because he could sense, by the tightness in her shoulders, that her question had been empty.

This was it…

His partner had hinted at and tried to laugh off how his disappearance had affected the (already strained, already fractured) relationships within his family.

He’d met the cloud quirk user’s father only the once (he’d seemed nice, maybe a little too nice when he’d allowed him to join what would have been their beach holiday); however, he’d met this woman before.

He’d known, from the second she’d looked over him at UA’s school-gates (the four of them had had to see the Principle after a prank they’d pulled had led to a bunch of training robots splattering the gym with glitter), that she hadn’t liked him.

Most people, in his experience, didn’t.

“Good… I’m glad” she said, that smile a little strained; “Aizawa-kun… I wanted you to hear this from me and I… I am sorry to ask, after everything you’ve been through but… I need your help” she furthered, her hands resting daintily in her nurse’s uniformed lap: “with… things the way they are” she continued. “My husband and I, well? We think it’d be better if we went to live in America for a while…”

Yes…

Yes of course they would…

It was a sensible, rational thing to do…

“The thing is… Oboro he… he’ll want to stay here…”

‘Because of me’ his mind supplied, numbly, his heart clenching painfully.

“That’s why I’ve come here, today, to ask you if you’d help him to see that this move is for his own good… a fresh start, somewhere safer, somewhere where that man can’t come looking for more of his blood, if he wants it” she rushed, that tight smile wobbling a little in her distress. “I… I almost lost him once” she breathed; “and I know… I know that I have you to thank for him being alive… that you’ve acted to protect him all this time and… and he’s so… so young and he… he doesn’t see, he doesn’t understand the danger he’s in” she huffed before, her resolve strengthening.

“He… doesn’t realise that young-love can be quite… superficial…”

‘Superficial’ his mind echoed; ‘he doesn’t love you… he’s too young to know what love is… we both are… she… she’s probably right…’ he reasoned despite how sick he felt, despite wanting to shrink in on himself.

“No one cares about you” he heard Sensei coo in the back of his mind; “why would they?”

“So… as awful as this sounds, as his mother I… I am here to beg you, Aizawa-kun” she stated, her eyes meeting his; “will you help me?”

~*~

Prince did not like what he was seeing or hearing...

“Umm… boss? You okay? You… ugh, you’ve defeated that spoon, you know?”

Blinking away from the CCTV feed that was filtering into his Agency’s little control room (because you never could be too careful and how Shirakumo Kimiko had dismissed him had really rubbed him up the wrong way), the Pro regarded the utensil he’d been using to stir his beverage before looking to his right-hand woman.

“This bitch” he stated, his eyes narrowed; “has got some f*cking nerve” he gritted out: “she’s asking broody-boy to tell cloud-child to leave him and go to America” he grunted.

“Ah?!” Trailblazer gasped; “the f*ck she is” she snapped, her lithe form spinning and walking from the room with her employer hot on her booted-heels, her fists doubling in size as they sparked before she calmed herself down.

Their guest was a civilian, a nurse, the mother of one of their trainees and so, even though she wanted nothing more than to chase her from the room, screaming, that really wouldn’t help.

It’d be a PR nightmare if nothing else…

“Excuse me?” she called loudly, however, her form busting into the room with a hugely displeased strength quirk user towering behind her; “yeah, you can go now” she stated, her firecracker eyes narrowing on the woman.

“I…”

“Ma’am” Prince cut in, his head nodding at Trailblazer to approach Shouta (the poor kid looked stricken; sh*t! They’d been doing so well with him, he’d just about started to relax) who was trembling like a leaf in the wind; “with respect” he said, his eyes narrowing at her. “I’m not a parent but Lord knows I can understand your worry and sure, fine, if you can leave this country then great… have at it” he told her, his right brow co*cking as she baulked. “But don’t you walk into my home and use emotional blackmail against my ward, you get me?”

“I… I wasn’t…”

“And with greater respect” he cut through, his hips jutting to the side in a power-pose that would warn anyone in a five-mile radius that f*cking with him was a bad idea; “Oboro-kun is eighteen, he’s a grown assed man” he stated. “If you ask him to go with you and he says no, well, don’t worry your pretty little head, hun, because there is more than enough room for him here” he advised, his arms folding; “I run a fully licensed hero Agency and am more than happy to provide for him if you’re not” he shrugged.

“B-but…”

“Hmm, what’s that? It’s wrong of us to make such plans and assumptions behind cloud-child’s back? Why, Shirakumo-san, I couldn’t agree more!” he gushed with faux cheer; “so why don’t we all have a little chat about this later, hmm?” he asked, the woman’s face paling a touch.

Heh, good.

“I can’t imagine that this little game you just tried to play will go down particularly well with him, do you?”

~*~

He’d had to leave the room; he didn’t stop when his guardian called for him, he didn’t acknowledge one of the other Pro’s he passed on the stairs when they’d asked him if he was okay…

He didn’t want to cause any more problems…

He didn’t want to be responsible for his boyfriend’s family breaking apart…

He didn’t want to lose Oboro and his warmth, his kisses, his soft words and the comfort he brought him…

But…

But his mother was right…

No, no Sensei could be anywhere at any time…

They weren’t safe…

No one was…

And it was his fault…

He’d brought this upon the few people stupid enough to care about him…

Sobbing, he rushed into the bathroom, flipped on the light (like that’d make a difference, like that would do anything), locked the door and pressed a towel to his face to drown out the sound just like he’d done when living at the lodge had gotten too much for him.

He was weak…

He was stupid…

All he did was cause trouble…

Why couldn’t he have died with his parents?

He…

He didn’t know what to do…

He didn’t even know who he was, anymore…

He should never have allowed them to befriend him in the first place…

“Shouta?”

Hiccupping, he curled a little more in on himself; he hated crying… he’d so rarely cried since he was little (it was irrational, illogical, it didn’t help, it didn’t make any difference) and, what was worse? People had seen him do it.

It wasn’t fair…

His life wasn’t supposed to be like this…

He was meant to be in his little, stuffy apartment quietly studying without hassle whilst he prepared to graduate; he shouldn’t have spoken to people unless he had to, he should have warded Hizashi and Oboro off when they’d started pestering him, he shouldn’t have allowed them to make him laugh, to open him up to what human contact could be like…

He should have quit the hero course and just stayed at the care-centre until he was booted out at eighteen.

What right did he have to try and become a hero, anyway?

What in the world had possessed him?

The care-centre hadn’t been that bad…

So what if he’d liked feeling useful…

Why had he enjoyed the younger kids looking up to him, thanking him for looking out for them…

He shouldn’t have bothered…

Maybe…

Maybe it wasn’t too late?

“Shouta… I’m just going to sit out here and wait for you to come out, okay?”

Sure, it’d seem ungrateful after putting everyone to so much trouble, but…

But it was probably for the best…

His grades in his regular subjects outside of the hero course were pretty good; maybe he could apply to a regular high-school and find a hostel to stay in…

“And… while I’m waiting… I want to tell you a story, alright?”

Sniffing, his body curling towards the door despite himself, Shouta clutched the fluffy towel close…

sh*t…

And now he was wasting even more of Prince’s time, wasn’t he?

“When I was a kid, I pretty much had it made” the Pro breathed through the door; “my mom and dad were heroes with powerful, musical quirks and I was lucky enough to inherit both of them” he continued, his tone fond: “life was hard in some respects… hero work didn’t exactly pay well, back in the day, and we mainly looked after our own community” he sighed. “Yeah… my hometown was full of real great folks, you know? And they loved to listen to me and my family play all weekend long in my Grandma’s bar” he chuckled; “then, with the rise of better and better hero schools, the people I loved more than anything scrimped and saved to send me to one” he stated.

Blinking, his eyes drying a touch, the erasure quirk user leaned a little more heavily against the door.

“Go make us proud, son… heh, that’s what my grandpappy said to me and so, off I went, and I was determined that I’d not only become a famous Pro but a musician, too” he continued dreamily; “man… I tell you, I had such big plans” he chuckled: “then… six months into my new life in a big city… a tsunami struck my dear little home town in the middle of the night” he breathed. “Some villain obsessed with ocean and used his quirk to trigger the earthquake” he continued, his tone strained; “the emergency alarm didn’t even have a chance to sound” he murmured.

Gasping, Shouta pressed his hands on the barrier, his shaking fingers inching up to the handle.

“I can’t claim to know or understand just how you feel, broody-boy” Prince admitted, a small, helpless laugh leaving him; “I didn’t lose my kin until I was your age… and, although I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing your parents, I’m sure that they’re proudly standing alongside mine, looking down at us and rooting like hell for you” he stated, his tone gentle. “You can’t hold yourself responsible for the actions of others, alright?” he asked; “whatever issues the Shirakumo’s have with each other, well, that’s their business” he reasoned; “and sure, they’re scared, they’ve got to be but… she had no right to come here and lay alla that on you, okay?”

“B-but…” he tried, his voice shaking; “if… if it wasn’t for me, then…”

“Boy” the older cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument; “you’ve got to stop seeing yourself as the problem, here” he urged: “let’s remove you from the situation for a second” he debated. “That Kurogiri creature… would he still exist if you weren’t involved? Of course he would… Oboro would still have been my trainee, he still would have been in that fight and, Lord forgive me for thinking it, but he could have died” he stated.

Grimacing, the raven-haired boy sighed.

“That poor child Tenko, would Sensei still have him and be raising him like that if you weren’t involved?” he pushed; “of course he would” he reminded: “and sure, loud-child, night-child and cloud-child would probably all still be friends but our favourite staff-slammer would probably have been a third wheel” he mused. “Hell, Nemu-chan didn’t start hanging out with you guys properly until you and your bf started training with me, so, maybe she and Hizashi wouldn’t be together” he theorised, his body shifting against the door.

“And don’ you even try to tell me that you don’t see cloud-child’s face light up like Christmas and New Year’s combined when you’re together” he chuckled; “so, you see… you’re actually the cause of so much joy, Shouta” he explained.

“No matter what happens, no matter what the future may hold… I want you to remember that, alright?”

Chapter 27: Family...

Chapter Text

Shirakumo Oboro hadn’t expected to be dropped off at the Purple Revolution to see his mother (and uncle) stood there waiting for him; he’d seen that they’d called him a few times at lunch, sure (he’d not checked the messages and just quickly replied that he’d been running a combat-simulation all afternoon since he was leaving early) but…

“Hey mom… Akito ji-san” he greeted with a respectful bow of his head, his blue eyes shifting from the similarly white-haired people to R-san, his gaze then shifting to a still nonplussed looking O-san; “umm… is everything alright, or…”

“Oboro-kun, we need to go home and have… a talk” his mother stated; “and please, in the future? Always answer your phone…”

“I’m sorry” he blinked, his head co*cking to the side confusedly; “I did…”

“Now come on, young man, let’s go…”

“But…” he said, his eyes narrowing; “I need to give Shouta his…”

“Ahh~! Cloud-child, I knew that you wouldn’t break your promise…”

Feeling his pale eyebrows reach for his hairline, the hero in training watched as four very unusual and concerning things happened all at once.

His uncle (old, surly and formal at the best of times) scowled, his mother flinched, the security staff tensed and His Purple Highness leapt over the Agency’s (weirdly closed) security gates, his stylish form landing with a flourish.

“Umm…”

Why was everyone so tense? The oldest member of his assembled family appeared to be bristling and his mother looked the same way she had when she’d sat him down five years ago to tell him that his father was having to stay in America for the majority of his time.

“What’s going on?”

“Tch, don’t act like you don’t know Oboro” his maternal-relative snapped; “your mother didn’t raise you to lie…”

“Hey!” he returned, his usually good-nature souring (he’d never really gotten on with the man or his mother’s side of the family; they all thought it was wrong that he’d applied for the hero-course: they’d wanted him to go into a real profession like they had); “I’m not” he defended.

“So you honestly expect me to believe that he” the tall, similarly cloud quirked male began, his stormy eyes narrowed at an incredibly nonplussed looking Mister Prince; “hasn’t been colluding with you?”

“Of all the nerve” the Pro muttered under his breath, his arms folded angrily; “I gave you my word that I wouldn’t contact him before he came here…”

“And what about that boy you’ve taken in?” the older, bearded doctor grumbled; “I bet he’s…”

“Aizawa-kun” the purple costumed hero cut in, his eyes flashing angrily; “knows the deal and he’s been trying real hard to just get on with his day since your… visit this morning” he furthered gruffly: “now… are we gonna go inside and have a civilised discussion or are y’all gonna hash this out, right here?”

“Neither” the suit-wearing man standing steadfastly beside his mother (who wasn’t looking him in the eye) grunted before he snapped his full, passive aggressive (oh… joy) attention squarely on him; “hand over whatever it is you need to give to Aizawa and then we’re going to your home” he stated.

“But…”

“No buts” Kurokumo Akito snipped before regarding his younger sister with a disapproving scowl; “I told you that you were being too lenient with the boy…”

“Hey” Oboro snapped, his patience having run thin; “don’t speak to her like that and don’t you dare talk about me as though I’m not here, either” he added: “it’s not your place to give us orders, ji-san, we aren’t in the Navy and you’re not my father…”

“Tch, and don’t I know it” the similarly built, former ship’s doctor replied tartly; “no son of mine would be allowed to… galivant around” he reminded: “you’ve thrown away your chance to use your gifts for something useful in exchange for what, exactly?” the fifty-year-old pushed. “The opportunity to get yourself injured in a fracas with common criminals? A way to worry your mother whose been nothing but kind to you? Getting involved in this” he ground out, his hands gesturing at the quietly observing security staff.

“Ji-san…”

“Oboro… our family have used our ability to craft and manipulate clouds for the real good it can offer ever since it manifested” he chided, his cardiganed arms folding imperiously over his chest; “to see you waste it on flying around and show-boating is disgraceful…”

“That’s what you think” he replied quietly, his face adopting the serious face he usually reserved for battle simulations and villain encounters; “and you’re entitled to your opinion… just as I’m entitled to live my own life… to make my own choices” he stated. “Now… I don’t know about you, but I’m going to go inside…”

“Don’t…”

Chuffing (and sure, he didn’t like being disrespectful to anyone, let alone his family, but he’d never conformed to the stuck-up and formally-rigid lifestyle that the military side of his kin were so proud of; if anything, his sunny disposition and care-free attitude couldn’t be more different), the youngest cloud quirk user summoned his vapours and floated over the gates.

Trying his best not to grin in a self-satisfied manner, Mister Prince snapped his fingers to open the gates; “lady? Gentleman? Men in black?” he offered with an exaggerated bow.

Slowly, their forms no less stiff, the medical professionals walked inside whilst O and R-san nodded at him.

Upon reflection, they didn’t get paid enough to sit through family dramas but no one ever said that security-jobs were easy…

~*~

Sitting in the waiting room (he’d wanted to go straight to Shouta (because of course he did); however, Trailblazer had barred his way, promising that he could go upstairs as soon as the talk he needed to have was concluded), Oboro tried to relax.

Hadn’t the last few months been stressful enough?

Tch, couldn’t he just go cuddle up with his boyfriend?

Was that really so much to ask?

“Okay” His Purple Highness breathed (at least he seemed calmer; it took a lot to rub the man up the wrong way and now he felt guilty that his family’s business had disturbed the peace: he hadn’t liked the sound of his mother having been here previously, without him, either); “Kimiko-san? The floor is yours…”

Blinking, he regarded his mother (who he loved, who he’d always love even when she didn’t understand his ways and fretted over the career-path he’d chosen; it showed that she cared, it showed that she was willing to “got to bat for him” as his American-loving father would say); sh*t… she looked upset.

“Mom?” he breathed, his tone worried; “is everything…”

“Honey” she began, her hands primly placed in her lap (the classic pose she used when they needed a serious talk); “I just want to say that… well, what I’m about to tell you is” she tried, her head shaking ruefully: “you’ll understand, one day, when you have children of your own…”

“You’re moving to America, Oboro” his uncle cut in, his tone decisive, his storm-grey eyes sharp; “it’s for the best…”

“Whoa… wait… what?” he baulked, his head snapping from one white haired adult to the next; “I don’t…”

“Then listen” Akito interrupted; “the tragedy that has befallen your classmate notwithstanding…”

“He’s not just my…” he snapped, his shocked frown darkening at the demeaning tone and incorrect use of title.

“… you’ve got a target painted on your back now… and it just doesn’t make sense to stay here when you can go somewhere safer” the former naval-officer continued without preamble; “take a few years out, attend an American College, see what life has to offer you and return to Japan with a degree under your belt” he urged. “Think about your family and what this… situation that boy has got you mixed up in is doing to them—
”

“That’s enough!” he snapped, his UA uniform a comforting weight upon his shoulders as he stood up from the plush-cushioned chair he’d sank in; “it’s one thing for you to be mad about my hero career potentially leading to dangerous consequences” he said. “And you’re right but… but when me, mom and dad sat down and talked about it after I passed UA’s entrance exams, we came to an understanding and, d’you know what? With villains getting bolder and sporting flashier quirks, no one is safe unless heroes rise up to stop them” he argued. “I used to think of you as a hero, ji-san… not because of the navy, but because you’d dedicated yourself to saving lives” he furthered, his eyes narrowing at his senior, daring him to retort.

“Obo—”

“But it’s a completely different thing for you to be so cold and unfeeling towards someone I love…”

“Tch, love?” Akito sneered from where he’d been stood, in parade-rest, behind his quietly sat mother; “you’re eighteen” he huffed: “what you’re experiencing in infatuation at best and puppy-love at worst” he reasoned.

“So says the man married to his career” he replied evenly, a flare of pride sparking in him when the older man scowled; “and so what if we’re young? So what if you’re right?” he challenged: “maybe we don’t really know what love is but… but I want to find out” he said, a smile finally tugging his lips. “An’ between Shouta and me? I’m sure we can figure it out, together” he stated fondly before, his shoulders straightening; “and I’m sorry if you can’t see that…”

“Feh… this is your husband’s airheaded influence… he was always too liberal” the doctor sighed at his younger sibling, his head shaking in disbelief; “and those are some very pretty sentiments” he admitted: “but you’ve got to try and think responsibly for once, Oboro” he told him. “Come now, since you’re clearly so grown up, think… is a virtual stranger, some friends and a hero course truly worth upsetting your family over?”

“Heh… that’s where you’re wrong… Shouta is my family… hell, Hizashi, Nemuri, my mentor and his Agency staff are, too” he said firmly; “and it’s not my intention to upset anyone or anything” he continued, his azure eyes shifting from one cloud quirk user to another: “you’re the ones doing that…”

“Honey, please” his mother sighed; “there’d be nothing stopping you from keeping in touch with him and your other friends…”

“You’re right, there is nothing to stop me, because I’m not going back to New York with you, mom” he said, his tone resolute; “my life and my purpose are here” he said: “you raised me to know the difference between right and wrong… and even though I don’t want to upset you, I really don’t… it’d be wrong of me to go” he breathed.

“I see” his uncle grunted bluntly; “and how do you intend to support yourself, hmm?”

“As I told Shirakumo-san this morning” Mister Prince answered, a fatherly hand smoothing over his trainee’s shoulder; “I am more than happy to provide him with a place to live and anything else he may want or need” he offered: “not only as a protégé, but as a very dear friend and future Pro hero” he smiled, his tone proud.

Smiling up at his trainer, Oboro nodded his thanks before, with a blink, he looked back at his parent; “which begs the question… why did you come here and speak to Mister-san without me?” he asked, his head co*cking to the side: “isn’t this, you know, something that we should have talked about when I got home later?”

Then, at the stiffening of strong fingers on his shoulders, the blue-eyed teen felt a jolt of horror coarse through him.

“Mom… you didn’t” he whispered, his brows furrowing; “please don’t tell me that you came here and spoke with…”

“I knew that you’d react this way” Kimiko sniffed, her eyes tearing. “I was hoping that Aizawa would see sense… you always told me how rational he was and I… I just don’t want to lose you, honey… I had to watch you recovering in that hospital bed… I watched you crumple this summer… your mental-health was suffering and I can’t… I… what if that man wants more of your blood? What if he wants to hurt you or… or worse, I…”

“Like you’ve just hurt me right now?” he countered, his eyes stinging; “how could you come here and… and try to manipulate me… manipulate him like that?!”

“I… I wasn’t…”

“Yes, yes you were~!” he accused hotly, his tone disbelieving; “what were you thinking?!”

“I was only thinking of you, of protecting you from a danger you’re too young and naive to see!” she cried as fresh tears dotted her lashes; “you’re my oldest son, Oboro… you’re my baby and I love you and… and sometimes that love means that you have to make… difficult decisions that don’t seem like the right call at the time, but…” she tried, her distress mounting. “As much sympathy as I have for Aizawa-kun… he’s not my child… he’s a boy who put my son in the sights of a madman hellbent on destroying society” she gushed, her hands worrying the nurses uniform she wore; “and if asking him to help you make the right decision was wrong, then…”

“It was wrong” the youngest member of the group so tensely assembled inside the waiting room interrupted; “and… if you want to place blame on someone for my quirk being desirable to that prick then… then the blame lies squarely with whichever great-grandparent manifested it in the first place” he whispered harshly.

“Tch, you can’t be serious…” Akito muttered grimly.

“I am” he replied whilst sucking in a shuddering breath before looking up to his mentor, a smile trying to force itself across his face; “thank you for your really generous offer, Mister-san” he began, his own hand resting atop the stronger one still fatherly capping his UA blazered shoulder. “I’d be honoured to accept it and I’ll get a part-time job and work hard to repay you, too…”

“Heh, you’ll do no such thing, cloud-child” the purple-clad man chuckled; “the only repayment I want to see is you and the others studying properly, growing together, getting stronger and becoming the heroes you were destined to be” he assured warmly before sliding his gaze at the medical professionals across from them.

“And don’t you worry none, alright? You can call him and use the Agency’s communications systems at any time, free of charge” he allowed; “we’ll also take care of moving his things over here for you when the time comes, okay?”

~*~

Sneaking quietly into Shouta’s room (his would be next door, one of the Purple Revolution’s part-time heroes insisting that he have their former space), Oboro heeded Trailblazer’s words (she’d checked in on him half an hour ago and found him sleeping atop his bed) and carefully sat on the mattress, his eyes quietly drinking him in.

Even now, he didn’t look peaceful; his frame was tense, his body curled in on itself.

sh*t…

He could only imagine how much of his mother’s (well-meaning, he tried to (convince) remind himself) meddling had led to his fitful sleep.

Not that the erasure quirk user was resting, not really…

He, Hizashi and Nemuri had all agreed that, even though he’d laughed, smiled, eaten and tried to be his old (cutely) cantankerous self, their youngest friend was always on edge, always wary.

He couldn’t blame him.

He’d also been looking over his shoulder more since everything that’d happened to his boyfriend (well, what he’d told them, anyway; he knew that there was more trauma he was keeping to himself and he would patiently wait until the other was ready to confront it), his eyes narrowing at shadows, his hackles raised when cars slowed down near him.

How could his mother have possibly thought that them separating was for the best?

They were better and stronger together then what they could ever be alone, weren’t they?

And Shouta… his sweet, gruff, grumpy-kitten of a boyfriend, had been alone for far too long…

Not again, never again, if he could help it…

“S’time is it?”

Blinking out of his thoughts, a true smile eating up his face, Oboro looked to the silly, novelty clock (that his partner had thought enough of to mount on one of those blank walls in that tiny-space he used to inhabit) he chuckled out; “it’s just turned three.”

Groaning (and no doubt trying to disguise how pleased he was that Hizashi and Nemuri would soon be upon them, their loud greetings, school gossip and demand that they form plans for the weekend blasting into the quiet), the raven-haired teen curled more securely about the large, Kitty-Kitty plushie he owned.

“M’cold” he huffed, his face hidden in the luxury-fur; “come’ere”

“Sir yes sir” he tittered fondly, his taller, broader body moving to spoon around him, his arms never more at home then when they were wrapped about the other who sighed despite himself, still clearly half asleep.

“M’gonna miss you… when you go…”

Sucking in a breath, the cloud quirk user carefully tightened his hold, his neck craning so he could kiss the other’s cheek; “I’m not going anywhere” he told him: “in fact… we’re gonna be roommates from next week…”

“Tch… gotta be dreamin…” the other muttered, a shudder rippling through him; “everyone… leaves…”

Closing his own eyes, Oboro found his anger at the bastards responsible for his boyfriend’s distress doubling all over again; “hey… hey come on, wake up for me, alright?” he asked, a hand running through those wavy, midnight locks. “Shou?”

Mumbling (and leaning into the touch), the younger teen fluttered his eyes open, his nostrils flaring cutely when he came to and turned to look at him properly; “umm…”

“Hey” he chuckled.

“Hey” he returned, his face now becoming pensive whilst he sat up, clearly pulling away from him.

Not wanting to be hurt.

God, he wanted nothing more than to reach out to him, bring him close and snuggle him until all of his sadness went away; it was stupid, he knew, and the other had always been… quite reluctant to engage in physical contact that he didn’t try to initiate, so it was best not to push him.

“So… ugh, how do you feel about sharing your bathroom?” he asked, his tone completely light and conversational.

“Eh?” the other blinked, his face blanking with shock; folding his arms, Oboro had to stifle his laughter when the shorter man co*cked his head and looked at him like his hair was on fire.

“Well…” he carried on, a true smile pricking his lips; “the room next door doesn’t have an en-suite and, as much as I love the guys who work here, I’d rather keep my toothbrush in a pot next to yours” he said, his shoulders casually rolling.

“W-what…”

“Oh, and my favourite bubbly-bath will need a place to stay, too” he continued, his smile growing wider as Shouta realised what he was saying, those dark eyes shining.

“B-but…”

“No, no… I have to insist!” he cut in happily; “just because you’re too manly to enjoy bubbles and rubber-duckies in the tub doesn’t meant that I have to be… oooffff~!”

Laughing dazedly, his body tackled to the covers by his partner, the taller teen wrapped him up in a hug whilst he snorted out a “it doesn’t matter how tightly you squeeze, you’ll have to house my toiletries and suffer me singing in the shower~!”

Chapter 28: Normality(?)

Chapter Text

That weekend had been… a little tense, however, on that Sunday he and his mother had reconciled (to a point), he’d called his father (who was disappointed and concerned but surprisingly supportive; he’d insisted that he have a spending allowance and had demanded that Mister Prince ‘shut up and take some rent money!’) and hugged his little brother tightly.

Out of all of them, Kenji had been the most understanding (and very excited that he’d have his own room in New York as opposed to sharing) and had given him the potted-plant he’d grown at school to keep and look after (since he couldn’t take it with them to America) with special instructions that he and ‘Aizawa-aniki’ kiss its leaves every night.

Tch, kids these day…

Then, before any of them knew it, Monday had arrived and Shouta was heading back into UA with them.

As his best friends and partner, the three oldest members of the roof-top quartet had cautioned Class 3A not to go overboard in their attentions (and completely missed the irony that no one could have made a bigger fuss of the erasure quirk user than them), their own excitement palpable as they walked from the Purple Revolution Agency together.

The fact that four men in suits were leisurely following them was, of course, nothing new and certainly not something that soured their moods.

And besides, the following week, he and his boyfriend would make the journey together from the same starting point, wouldn’t they?

He could hardly wait…

“Maa~! I’m so syked to be an awesome foursome tearing up the scene again~!” Hizashi chirped, his body virtually hanging between his two male friends (whose shoulders he’d slung his arms across) whilst Nemuri snapped some photographs of them, her tongue sticking out in concentration as she perfected her captions and added filters.

“Yeah, I can’t believe that October’s half way through already” Oboro chuckled, his eyes turning to the multi-coloured, autumnal trees dotted about the gardens which fringed their school, his smile soft; “it’ll be sweater and scarf weather soon” he grinned, his head inkling towards his partner. “Which also means snuggling to keep warm is on the cards, right?”

“I-idiot” the other grumped, his cheeks pinking whilst the others shared knowing glances; “I…”

“Oi~! Aizawa~! Wait up… please~!”

Blinking, the group stopped and looked behind them to where Sensoji was running to catch up, his hulking form moving quickly for someone of his size, his haste causing the other students on the pavement to side-step out of his way.

“Tch, this guy” Hizashi snipped; “I should tell Q-san he’s a threat” he muttered whilst they waited.

“Abe Kōchō told me that he’d been placed in Class 1B” Shouta said quietly, his eyes wary as the blast quirk user approached; “is that right?”

“Yeah” Nemuri breathed, her form slinking to stand at his left whilst the older boys flanked his right, their glares begging the other to start something.

“T-thanks, for stopping” the red-haired brawler breathed, his form panting as he stood a healthy two metres away from them.

Then, in a move so unexpected that it had the roof-top quartet blinking, the glare-glasses wearer was kneeling on the cold walkway, a few of the other students who were watching the scene slowing down to observe the situation.

“Aizawa-san” he said, his hands smoothed on the damp concrete, his neck curling to allow his head to rest on them in the most humble-bow a person could make; “thank you for saving my life~!”

Baulking, that terrifying incident flashing through his mind, Shouta felt his breath hitch.

“And please… I don’t expect you to ever forgive me for the many, many times I mistreated you but… you need to know that… that I’m so… so sorry~!”

Swallowing thickly (he’d made to take a step back, the feeling of Oboro so protectively stood behind him halted his motions though), the raven-haired teen shook his head lightly and, before his friends could stop him, he moved towards the rasping figure.

“Hey” he said, his call causing the other to look up at him…

“W-what?”

And his outstretched hand…

“D-don’t worry about it, alright?” he offered; “now come on… get up, it’s… that’s gotta be bad for your knees, right?”

Blinking, his eyes tearing, Sensoji took the younger man’s hand and allowed him to pull him up.

“T-thank you” he gushed whilst wrapping his other hand around the one he clasped to give it a respectful shake; “I won’t ever let you down again… and that… that’s a promise…”

~*~

Gran Torino sighed as he looked over the latest recognisance-reports that his staff had completed on his behalf; just as he’d thought (All for One hadn’t evaded capture for so long for no reason, had he?), the area surrounding the lodge offered no clues and no useful evidence or information to the villain’s whereabouts.

However, after listening to Aizawa Shouta’s accounts of his time there, an investigation of the area where sheds were housed did, indeed, containing ash residue.

The ash of four police officers who’d gone missing in the summer (he’d spoken to and given the news to the grief-stricken families himself), their patrol car stripped of valuable parts and dumped in a virtually inaccessible ravine a mile or so away from where the once grand house had stood.

They’d been lucky it seemed, too lucky…

Yes, the more he thought about it, the more their successful rescue appeared to be staged.

Ahh, but to what end?

Why had the evil mastermind allowed them to take and keep the boy?

Upon medical and telepathic, quirk-based inspection, the kid seemed to be physically fine (the trauma of being under that man’s cruel thumb notwithstanding) and, outside of the brainwashing he’d come out of (a product of the collar he’d been wearing, the toxin in his system or otherwise was yet to be determined), His Purple Highness reported no change in his usual behaviours.

His friends, too, when asked hadn’t detected any differences beyond the expected; however, something just didn’t sit right with him.

All for One didn’t, typically, abduct people; killing, attacking, experimenting, torturing and ambushing people to steal their quirks, sure, but this?

This had taken time, care and attention; the boy had been provided with clothing in his size, had been forced to watch, on the evening of his kidnapping, a series of images that’d been taken over a range of time.

It just didn’t make any sense; the egomaniac was hardly the paternal type regardless of him offering the erasure quirk user (whom he’d allowed to retain such a useful power) a place in the “family business”.

Furthermore, if Aizawa was right and he’d been primarily acquired to care for the Shimura (another lie, potentially? However, it was far more devastating if it were true) child, then why let him leave?

Or, perhaps he was overthinking such things; that incredible young woman and her lover happening upon the formerly abandoned lodge surely couldn’t have been something that the fiend had foreseen, could it?

And yet, as he sat here, his old eyes roving over all of the information he had to hand, he couldn’t help the unease that clung to his shoulders.

For all he knew, the teen could be a clone, a sleeper agent, a villain who’d somehow gotten into UA and fooled them all, his whole life a carefully orchestrated ruse to catch them all off guard…

“Tch, you sound like a conspiracy-nut, you crazy old goat” he muttered to himself, his gaze drifting back to the photographs of the boy he’d helped to rescue, a mustard-gloved hand rubbing at his jaw as he remembered the clean, hard punch he’d been given.

“You’re one to watch though, young man” he murmured to the quiet of his office, his eyes narrowing at the image of the teen as he lay in that hospital bed, his few explosion related injuries still fresh and untreated by Chiyo-chan; “let’s just hope that I’m worrying over nothing, eh”?

~*~

Watching the boy he’d been priming for later use, All for One sighed, his head shaking ruefully as he helped the muscle-bound student off of the floor, an unsurprised chuckle tickling his cigar pursed lips.

“Oh, Shouta-kun” he mused; “you and that bleeding-heart of yours” he grinned, his tone more fond than truly mocking: “whatever shall I do about it, hmm?”

Ah, but he did look so determined, didn’t he?

So desperate to become a good little hero.

“Why would you choose to be ordinary when you could be so great, so powerful, I wonder?” he asked the empty room that he was sequestered in.

It truly was a pity and, despite himself, he did quite… miss the teenager, he supposed.

Well, as much as he could miss anything, really.

Not that that could compare to Tenko’s lamentations; it’d spurred his studying, at least, it’d strengthened his bitterness too.

Whatever would he do to punish the heroes that stole his playmate?

Tittering, he leaned back in his chair, his vision unimpeded by the loss of his physical, natural eyes as he observed the students (all decked out in UA’s heavily westernised uniforms) approaching the gates, a flicker of deeper pleasure ratcheting through him as none other than Yagi Toshinori materialised out of the bushes.

“Ah-ha-haa~!” he crowed; “so, I wasn’t wrong then?” he asked the screen, his teeth rolling the fat, Cuban cigar around his lips gleefully, his hands clapping together as Aizawa and his friends baulked before they were whipped into a hug, the scene now awash with students flashing their cellphone cameras at him. “Oh, Shouta-kun… letting you wander back to your flock was a master-stroke, wasn’t it? You’ll be sure to thank him and allow him closer to you, won’t you?” he laughed.

“Oh… oh but the betrayal you’ll so unwittingly reek upon them all will be glorious~! Ahh… but that is for later, so much later, isn’t it? Yes… we must be sure to let you have your fun first, mustn’t we?” he purred, his tone warmly pleased before he settled, a gloved finger moving to the intercom connected to his chair; “Kurogiri?”

“Yes Sensei?”

“How is my oldest boy’s birthday present coming along, hmm?”

~*~

Considering he’d wanted a relatively uneventful, mostly quiet return to school, finding himself crushed against All Might’s chest (smattered in one of his more flamboyant, caped costumes) alongside his boyfriend (smiling through a wheeze) and male best friend (crying joyful tears as he hugged the number one Pro right back) was really not helping that ambition…

“Y-Yagi-senpai… we… we can’t breathe~!” he heard Oboro manage to choke out whilst their foreheads started to turn blue…

Had he really survived such a hellish summer to die now?

“Aahahahaaaa~! Sorry, future heroes~!” the same booming voice that announced him as the symbol of peace reverberated around the promenade which led to the school; “there you go, my friends~!”

Gasping air into his lungs (and trying not to be annoyed; the big lug clearly meant well), Shouta pulled himself and his partner up whilst Nemuri (completely star-struck) propped against Hizashi so they could gush over the seven-foot-tall behemoth along with a dozen or so students, their cries of adulation almost louder than the hero himself.

“Ahh~! Thank you, thank you one and all~!” he chorused; “Maa~! Sorry~! I really cannot stay~! I had just wanted to drop by to welcome Aizawa-shounen back to school~!”

Oh God…

Why?

“Umm…”

Tch, forget what he’d thought earlier because he was beyond annoyed now for, as the blonde’s words echoed around the public space, all eyes (and f*cking cameras, God damn-it~!) turned to him, the almost laser focus of the students (mostly starry-eyed first-years… sh*t) frightening beyond measure.

“Ugh…”

And then, the screaming (all directed at him; why, why?!) began in earnest…

“Wwwwaaaahhhhhhh~!! Aizawa-sama~!! Please be my senpai~!!”

“No, no, no~! I’m closest to him~! And my quirk is cooler than yours~!!”

“Aaaahhhhh~!! He’s so cute~!!”

“Are you All Might’s newest side-kick~?!”

“Date-me~!!”

“Marry-me~!!”

‘Kill me’ he thought, his hands raised in surrender, a look begging for help washing over his features…

“I saw him first~!!”

Before he was washed away in a tide of babbling, fawning, screeching adolescence…

Watching as their friend was literally swept away, Toshinori rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly whilst Hizashi and Nemuri baulked, their legs kicking up to run after the horde spiriting their tsundere off as Oboro took to the air in hopes of fishing his partner out of the mess, his huff of “dude~! Really?!” aimed squarely at the cape wearer.

“Sorry~!” the number one Pro called with a wave as he looked back at him (and a bewildered Sensoji), his expression very clearly asking ‘what the f*ck, man?’ before he added a burst of speed, his form reaching out for his boyfriend who was becoming more dazed and dishevelled by the second.

Hell, if they didn’t reach him before he snapped and started to literally fight his way free then their teachers would have their asses, wouldn’t they?

God damn everything, he was determined that the younger teen was going to have a good day back even if it called them all~!

“Shou~!”

Blinking, the raven-haired teen threw his hands up, the gratitude upon his face warring quite violently with the embarrassment of being rescued and let out a grateful sigh despite himself as he was secured against his partner’s chest and pooled in the warmth of that uniform covered lap.

As those strong arms folded around him, he never wanted them to let him go…

Chapter 29: Birthday mornings...

Chapter Text

October flew by in a whirl of work-study placements, advanced tactical classes, diplomacy seminars and ugh… written exams.

Life, it seemed, was slowly getting back to normal; Oboro being his house-mate was… incredible, too.

They studied together, played video-games online with Hizashi and Nemuri, cooked food for their Pro mentor alongside his grateful team when they weren’t assisting on missions and patrolling, trained in the Agency’s gym and tried their best to put the summer (with its horror) behind them outside of counselling sessions.

However, on the morning of his birthday (it was a Friday… he f*cking hated Fridays; nothing good had come from them over the last few months), Shouta had woken up early, the night-light in his room still keeping the shadows at bay, his gaze wary as he looked around the bedroom, making sure that it was the one Mister Prince had set up for him.

It was stupid, he knew…

Sensei had, for whatever reason, let him go (’for the time being’ a vicious whisper murmured in the back of his mind) and he was probably off doing whatever it was that (allegedly) ancient crime-lords did…

Just because the bastard had specifically raised this date with him one of the last times they’d talked didn’t necessarily mean anything…

So… why couldn’t he go back to sleep?

It was 05:00…

He didn’t need to get up for another two hours and, his ears straining, he could pick up the snores of the Purple Revolutionaries down the hall (they were a great group of people but not the quietest, even when sleeping)…

Everything was fine…

Everything was okay, so…

Huffing, he pulled his covers away (he didn’t mind the pre-winter chill; it sure as hell beat being hot), swung his legs over the side of the bed, shuffled into his slippers and walked towards one of his heavily curtained (they were in Musutafu Centre so the street-lights could be pretty full on) windows and peered out of it.

The sky (from what he could see when he looked up and past the neighbouring building) was a pre-dawn inky black, lightening to grey.

There were a few stars still winking at him from the heavens amidst a light swirling of cloud, too.

He…

He should really go back to sleep, shouldn’t he?

Sighing, he turned back to the bed and, his arms folding lightly, he realised there was no comfort to be found there despite the pillows, comforters and plush toys.

Sneaking a glance to his wide-open bedroom door (he had a… thing about closed, locked ones now that he was working to break), Shouta momentarily warred with himself about leaving the room.

It’d be wrong of him to disturb anyone else by shuffling around and the gym wasn’t soundproof so he was bound to wake people if he went downstairs to work out and…

And…

If he was really honest with himself?

He wanted to go into Oboro’s room; it… it wouldn’t be too crazy just to peak his head around the door to make sure he was okay, would it?

It wasn’t… that creepy to check in with him, right?

No…

It was super creepy, actually…

The kind of creepy that’d kept him awake most nights back in the lodge, his eyes trying to locate the cameras or Kurogiri’s presence whilst he tried to rest in that futon…

sh*t, he needed to stop being such a clingy, whining baby, didn’t he?

‘Just go back to bed’ he told himself; however, as he went to approach the big, lonely space, his legs had other ideas and he was on the small landing on the Agency’s third floor before he knew it.

Double sh*t!

He shouldn’t, but…

The cloud quirk user also kept his bedroom door open (all of them, even Prince, did just to make sure that they could get out of their rooms swiftly if an emergency call came in… or their home was under attack) and, despite himself (and the screaming of his common-sense; this was a violation of the other’s privacy, wasn’t it?) he quietly walked over.

Smiling, Shouta then leaned against the doorjamb, his eyes landing on the older teen who was star-fished atop his covers (he’d always been warm-blooded), his pyjama clad chest rising and falling, his mouth wide open.

Heh…

He shouldn’t have found it so adorable, but, he was only human, wasn’t he?

“S-Sho-ou… umm…”

Blinking, baulking and stifling his surprised squeak with a hand, the newly turned eighteen-year-old withered a little when he realised that other was sleep-talking.

Oh?

Could it be that he was dreaming about… him?

‘Get a hold of yourself, you nosey idiot’ he reprimanded himself, his feet shuffling backwards; ‘go back to your own…’

“S-Shouta?”

Triple sh*t~!

Flinching from where he was now rigidly stood in the doorway, the raven-haired teen, his long locks (they needed a cut but he didn’t particularly relish the thought of strangers carrying sharp-blades anywhere near his neck, thanks) curtaining his face, looked back at his boyfriend…

His boyfriend who was now very much awake…

His boyfriend who was using his greatest weapon…

That beautiful, confident smile…

Damn those perfect teeth…

“You okay?”

Self-consciously rubbing at the long-sleeves covering his arms (it was… colder than he’d thought), the younger teen shrugged a little; “couldn’t sleep” he replied honestly: “sorry this… this is creepy, isn’t it? I promise that I wasn’t…”

“You want some company?”

Blinking owlishly, the blush that’d stained his face deepening, Shouta briefly looked back the way he’d come (because that’s where he should be going) before nodding and shuffling his way into the other’s (blue-walled, poster-smattered, action-figure accented and overall heavily cluttered (so illogical), cosy) bedroom.

If his sigh sounded dreamy when the other wrapped him up in an embrace and pulled him onto the soft, blanket heavy mattress, then he’d just have to live with that, wouldn’t he?

“Umm… happy birthday” the other whispered into his neck, a chaste kiss pressing there.

“T-thanks” he murmured back, his mind relishing his position as little-spoon even though he still prayed to reach 183cm (Oboro, the loveable jerk, was six foot two and counting; he just knew the gorgeous prick was doing it on purpose); “and thanks for… you know, this” he murmured quietly. “I… I know it’s dumb…”

“Tch, I should be the one thanking you shouldn’t I?” the older chuckled quietly, his long, muscle slaked arms wrapped about the other’s waist in a loose, yet comforting embrace; “you know that I love cuddling with you, right?”

“Y-yeah…” he returned softly, his hands resting atop the tanned ones happily drumming their fingers over his abdomen; “and… you know? I… I was thinking” he whispered softly as he wondered if he was brave enough to continue: “I… I’m eighteen now…”

“Uh-huh” the other agreed through a yawn, his face leaning into the other’s neck whilst sleep tugged at his mind…

“I… we, well… I’d like to” the younger tried, his blush darkening further; “umm… would you… would you have, ugh… s-sex, with me, tonight?”

Eyes snapping open (because he had to dreaming; his beautiful partner could not have said something so ridiculously cute and thrillingly pleasing, could he?!), the taller, broader man was leaning up and looking down at him owlishly.

‘Play it cool, play it cool, play it f*cking cool~!’ his hindbrain squealed.

“Sh-hou, I…” he tried, his pupils expanding as he took in the other’s blushing face.

This… this was huge…

This was incredible and, regardless of his dick screaming at him to accept the offer, he needed… he wanted to be careful…

His boyfriend had lived a life ghosted by tragedy and stalked by misfortune and, as a virgin himself, he didn’t want to f*ck this up…

“We… don’t have to rush this” he murmured softly; “I… I mean, God… yes, yes a thousand times yes but…” he trailed off, their eyes locking: “when… when we go that far I… I want it to be special, you know?” he smiled. “That… and, well? I… ugh, God…you even asking is… heh… is it my birthday?” he fumbled through a chuckle, his hands squeezing the paler ones he’d grasped.

“It… any time with you is…” Shouta replied quietly; “b-but… but I get it if you don’t want me…”

“Oh no-no-no-no-no~!” the taller nearly yelped, his body abruptly sitting up, bringing the other with him, his arms pulling him into his lap (and completely forgetting about his morning wood, sh*t!); “I want you, alright? I really, really want you in any way you’ll have me” he stage whispered, his eyes sneaking to the doorway. “I mean… not that I, ugh, think about it all the time and you… you’re so much more than… and, ugh, it’s not like I wouldn’t still love you if we never… I…”

Damn…

This wasn’t exactly a great place for a private conversation, was it?

“I… just don’t want you to feel as though you have to…”

“I’m so tired of being scared all of the time.”

Blinking, his brows lifting momentarily before his face softened in understanding, the older teen gently cupped the other’s face, a thumb brushing a tear away; “I… I want to do something for… for myself… for us… something that we can have that… that he can’t touch or take away…”

Drawing the other into a tight squeeze, a sigh leaving them both as they melted into it, Oboro swore to whichever deity had brought his partner back to him that he’d give the younger man all of the love, safety and security that he deserved.

For he would settle for nothing less…

~*~

Momentarily panicking when, after creeping so quietly up the stairs with the birthday cake all aglow with eighteen candles (and a sparkler, Trailblazer had insisted), the erasure quirk user wasn’t asleep in his bed, Mister Prince and his team rushed to their other trainee’s room, hoping that they didn’t have to raise the alarm…

“Aaawwwwww~!” they cooed in unison, their calls startling the sleeping teens who’d curled up together like a pair of snoozing kittens, their eyes wide, their embarrassment adorable as they sat up, Oboro’s expression sheepish whilst Shouta looked mortified.

So cute~!

“Happy birthday, broody-boy~!” His Purple Highness smiled, his four employees (who may as well be family at this point) singing the famous, western-song (if slightly off key) as they walked into the room, a selection of party-poppers going off.

“O-oh, ugh… wow… t-thank you” the shier of the pair breathed, his expression now fondly pleased whilst they brought the cake to him and ordered that he “make a wish~!”

Chuckling, his hands shoving his wavy-locks behind his ears, Shouta leaned forward and blew, his features beyond delighted as they applauded him.

“Now, we know that you’re not the greatest fan of sweets so we got you some salty-liquorice, too, alright?”

“T-thank you” the newly turned adult breathed, his form up and hugging his guardian tightly and, always one to express his emotions (because it was healthy, damn it), Prince coddled the boy like it was going out of style, a tear peppered smile turning to the camera flashing at them.

“Ahh, you’re welcome Shou-tan~!” he chuckled; “now, why don’t you boys get washed up and dressed, hmm? We’ll add slices of cake to your lunches so loud-child and night-child can have some too, alright?”

Nodding, his body now being passed around the group of muscle men and Trailblazer (who’d popped a cat-eared headband into his unruly mane after giving him a loud, sisterly kiss on the cheek), His Purple Highness carefully balanced the cake before turning at the tap on his shoulder.

“Hey, cloud-child, are…”

“Can… can Shou and I have a… private talk with you after school?”

Blinking, his sculpted eyebrows reaching for his hairline, the Pro looked at him carefully; it was rare to see their resident sun-beam look so serious outside of battle; “ugh, sure…” he offered, his eyes sneaking to the other boy as he was loaded with gifts, his smile wobbly with emotions he was trying to express. “Is… everything okay?”

“Oh, ugh yeah we… we just wanted some, ugh… help, I guess?”

“You guess?” the taller man blinked; “you guys haven’t had an argument, or anything…”

“Ahh~! No” Oboro was quick to soothe whilst nodding for the man to walk a little further into the bedroom and away from prying ears; “we… we want to, umm… take things between us… further” he said slowly, quietly: “b-but we’ve never… you know…”

Eyes widening to the size of saucers (because, in the first instance he was so touched that they’d trusted him enough to ask and then he was thrilled to know that they didn’t just want to fumble around, especially considering he and Shouta’s psychologists were worried to death that he’d been molested over the summer), in a rare show of decorum, Prince nodded. “Don’t you worry none” he said quietly; “I’ll answer any and all of your questions, alright? You can count on me” he smiled, a fatherly hand resting on the older teen’s shoulder: “this… this is a big step but, if you’re both ready, then I think it’s wonderful” he assured.

“T-thanks” the cloud quirk user beamed, his azure eyes sparkling; “it’s pretty great, isn’t it?”

Chapter 30: Precious Family Memories...

Chapter Text

Dressed in their UA uniforms, their security detail following a few steps behind them on the relatively quiet street beside an equally spare road, Oboro couldn’t help the flare of pride sparking in his chest as Shouta snuggled into the fleecy lining of his costume’s leather jacket (that was big enough to fit over his slender, blazer covered shoulders).

Heh…

He looked so cute~!

Not that he’d say it out loud (because the younger teen still became flustered over such things) but he may have covertly text Nemuri to get a photo of him in it when she met up with them at the junction...

“You sure you don’t want any?”

Grinning, his fingers somehow resisting the urge to poke at the other’s hamster-esque cheeks (he was half-way through the fancy, European box of salty-liquorice by now), Oboro shook his head; “heh, thanks but no thanks” he chuckled: “I don’t know how you can eat that stuff~!”

“It’s delicious” the other deadpanned, his eyes narrowing; “I can’t believe that Prince-san actually sent off for these from Norway… he really shouldn’t have spent so much money” he furthered, his smile softening as he admired one of the fish-shaped pieces he’d pulled free from their brightly coloured package.

“Heh, don’t pretend that you’re not worth it~!” the cloud quirk user winked, his nose wrinkling as he eyed the bitter sweets; “I can’t believe that people sell it at all~!” he furthered with a wide grin, his giggles escalating when the raven-haired teen lightly elbowed him in the ribs.

“There’s no accounting for taste, I suppose” the shorter make shrugged.

“Ha~! I must have some taste” he retorted smugly; “I’m dating you, aren’t I?”

“I-i-diot~!” Shouta blushed whilst looking away, his hands hastily closing the box and shoving it into the new satchel Trailblazer had gotten him before gruffly folding his arms, his eyes cutting a glance to the boy, the man he wanted to lose his virginity to, his frown smoothing in the light of the other’s smile. “Tch… touché, I guess” he grumbled, his right shoulder gently dumping against the other’s blazer-covered left bicep.

“Aww~” the broader male snickered; “that’s—”

“Kids~! Look out~!”

Everything had happened so quickly…

“Shou~!? Hang on~!!”

The darkness had blossomed up behind them, those swirling, violent tendrils whipping and wrapping around them with the ferocity of a miniaturised cyclone, knocking their legs out from under them and flinging their bags towards the road; the squeal of car-brakes and the honking of horns almost drowned out by the howling vortex…

“Oboro~!? No~!!”

Their hands had reached for each other, they should have been in easy reach, they’d been side by side and yet…

“Whoa~!!”

Landing with a thud, a cough exploding past his mouth, the cloud quirk wielder gasped and looked around, his eyes wild; he was in some kind of… warehouse?

A warehouse… with a carpeted floor?

Getting to his feet and then summoning a cloud to buoy him into the air, the eighteen-year-old looked cautiously around the muted darkness; there were windows (boarded up) ringing around the upper parts of all four walls and there was a beam with lights stringed from it running directly down the centre.

Oh God…

Oh no!

This was the place Shouta had been brought to on the evening of his abduction, wasn’t it?

“Shou~!!” he yelled, his eyes looking around the seemingly empty structure; sh*t! There was no one else here and, thankfully, the doors (that he could see ahead of him) looked relatively normal; with a dense enough cloud travelling at a high enough velocity, he was sure he could break them down.

However, he wasn’t going anywhere until he knew where “Shou~?!” was…

If that bastard had taken him again then he’d never forgive himself…

They should have stayed at the Agency today…

He’d seen how apprehensive his partner was…

He should have realised that something…

“Shirakumo Oboro? Heh… somehow you’re even more underwhelming in the flesh, ah… so to speak.”

Spinning around, his eyes narrowing, the lightly tanned male glared heatedly at the tall, poisonous-vapour eyed man before he gasped, his summoned nimbus dissipating when he clocked his partner (passed out? Injured? Hurt?!) curled against the villain’s immaculate shirt and waist-coated form.

His brown suede coat and the UA blazer that the other was wearing, along with the hand-knitted scarf Nemuri’s grandmother had so lovingly knitted for him, had been stripped away…

No…

“Whatever does he see in you, hmm?”

No, he… he couldn’t let this happen again…

“L-let him go” he breathed, his fists-tightening at his sides as his shoulders bunched under the fury roiling across his form.

Above them, not that either noticed, storm-clouds had started to manifest…

“You know… it isn’t fair, really, that you should get to have him for a while” the warp-gate user hummed dispassionately, those cold, vaporous hands curling possessively around the lither male he clutched, the other’s pale face a stark contrast to the darkness cloying around him; “I behaved myself… I should get to keep him…”

“Don’t you f*cking think about it” he hissed, his legs moving; “you bastard, I’ll—"

“Stay where you are, brat.”

Cursing under his breath, he skidded to a stop, his eyes shrinking in horror as a shadowy tendril coiled around Shouta’s neck to give it a squeeze.

Even unconscious, the erasure quirk user whimpered out a gasp…

“Oh… that sound, I’ve missed that…”

“Let him go” Oboro repeated firmly, his mind screaming at him to move whilst his better judgement begged him to be careful; his boyfriend was incapacitated, that Nomu could vanish at any moment and no one would know where they were, either. “You… you don’t want to do this…”

f*ck!

He would not let them take his lover again…

Never again…

“You… you don’t want to go against Sensei’s orders, right?”

“Tch” the older man spat; “whereas I am under orders to keep watch over his eldest boy” he revealed: “and to give him his birthday presents” he murmured, those lemon eyes flashing. “I suppose that what I’ve done today wouldn’t necessarily make him happy, that I may have over-stepped the boundaries that are still in place for the time being… but, Shouta-kun’s just so wonderfully skittish, isn’t he?” he chuckled. “I can’t help myself when I’m around him…”

“You bastard, you…”

“Umm? But Shirakumo-san” the fiend tittered; “my infatuation with him is mostly down to you~!”

No… no he… he loved his partner he… he would never harm him, he…

“Oh? You’re really so surprised?” the Nomu jeered; “my power may be made up of many quirks but my body belonged to a particularly powerful blood-quirk user whose head was damn-near smashed in, and so the two main quirks that merged to form warp-gate, yours and one other, had to fill in all the gaps~!” he explained. “I know how your mother worries… how your father never fit in with her family’s expectations… that you and dear, little Kenji-chan used to hide your green-peppers during dinner-time instead of eating them~!” he laughed.

He was no doubt preening over how clearly angry (and terrified; sh*t) he was…

“And then there’s our precious Shou, isn’t there? Such an adorable, quiet, big-hearted boy, hmm? You watched him that day, didn’t you? The day when he gave poor, tiny Sushi-chan his umbrella and walked away… you saw something in him then, didn’t you? You saw that loneliness, that hopelessness and wondered what that pretty face would like when it smiled, didn’t you?”

‘Don’t listen… don’t be drawn in… keep your head… keep your wits about you… he’s dangerous… unstable and Shouta can’t help himself right now…’

“Maa, Oboro… how did you expect me not to feel the same way, nah? How did you expect me to see that smile through your eyes and not want to hear him screaming beneath me?! I…”

“That’s enough!” he snarled whilst three flashes of lightning slammed into the building, a boom of thunder shaking those cracked, fragile windows.

“Oh? Is someone finally reaching their true potential, hmm? Sensei will be pleased…”

“The pair of you can go f*ck yourselves” he hissed, another bolt brightening the area; “now put him down and get lost!” he snarled: “you’ve had your fun, now—”

“Have I?!” the older of the three snapped, the darkness widening like some ungodly halo around him; “maybe I haven’t, maybe I’d like to teach you, my weaker, lesser, undeserving half a lesson!” he howled: “Sensei didn’t say anything about not f*cking him and making you watch~!”

“No!! You—”

Cutting himself off when those shadows receded, a loud, menacing laugh shaking him to his core, Oboro could only stare as the villain quieted enough to place a kiss (that bastard, that f*cking son of a bitch!) on his partner’s mouth before placing him carefully, lovingly down upon the oddly carpeted floor.

“You should see the look on your face, Boro-kun” he crooned; “I like it very much” he purred before, those doubtlessly cold hands stroked across Shouta’s face, carefully coaxing him awake…

“W-wha-t? Y-you? No… no… g-get off of me!”

Standing there (frozen, helpless; the fiend’s hands were too close to his partner’s neck… he wasn’t All Might… he couldn’t move faster than sound he… he couldn’t do anything…) the older hero trainee shuddered.

“Now, now” Kurogiri murmured; “there’s no need to fret” he soothed: “I’ve just come to give you your birthday present, that’s all” he cooed. “It’s not our time yet… Sensei wants you to follow that silly dream of yours for a while first” he explained. “And, in the meantime, he will be sure to take good care of you for me, won’t you, Shirakumo-san, hmm?”

Watching as his partner’s frightened eyes met his, the storm clouds above him roiling, Oboro moved.

He wasn’t sure how…

He didn’t know what his quirk was doing, but…

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Shouta was in his arms, the Nomu still crouched upon the ground.

He was laughing, the bastard…

“Ahh~! What potential, indeed” he congratulated; “but I’m afraid neither of you will be going anywhere until I’ve done my job” he stated whilst rising to his full height, the teenagers glaring at him angrily whilst the taller of the pair put the younger down, both of them standing side by side in offensive positions.

“I…”

“Where is Tenko?!”

Blinking, that mocking laugh returning, Oboro narrowed his gaze whilst clouds pooled around them defensively; sh*t, this was a chance to gain information, wasn’t it?

Heh, he’d always said that the raven-haired youth was the brains of their team…

“Hmm? Tenko, you ask? Why, Shouta-kun… he’s dead.”

Baulking, the blue-eyed staff wielder (and God, what he wouldn’t give to have his uniform bag with him now!) made to grab his boyfriend’s shoulders as he gasped; “don’t listen to him” he stated firmly: “he’s got to be lying” he reasoned. “All for One wouldn’t just kill someone he’d put so much time into raising…”

“Heh, and whereas that is true” Kurogiri taunted; “the boy he knew is long gone… oh yes, his hatred of you and your world of heroes has changed him completely” he offered: “how could you leave him, hmm? Didn’t you have fun? Didn’t you promise him that you’d stay?”

Shuddering, his frame trembling, shortest member of the eerie, oppressive warehouse ignited his quirk, his hair snaking upwards as the fiend’s body became more solid; “I’ll find him” he hissed: “I’ll find him and get him away from you” he said firmly.

“Maa, Shouta-kun, you’ll not need to worry about such things… no, no, no! You’re only worry, right now, is to make sure that you open your present and take it with you… we’ll know if you don’t and it would be awfully rude to ignore such a gift from our master who is allowing you your fun” the older murmured amusedly. Then, his body flaring when the teen had to blink; “oh yes, yes! Please do not concern yourself about tracking us down, dear Shouta, because it is you who’ll be brought back to us when it’s time~!”

Yelping, a torrent of blackened, writhing shadows rushing past them, the lovers ended up on the floor again, Oboro’s unseen storm-clouds fizzling and both of them (relatively) unscathed.

A brightly coloured, professionally wrapped box sat between them featuring a shiny, gold tag sporting the neatly calligraphed words: “Happy 18th Birthday to my Eldest Boy~!”

Shuffling away from it, the older teen made to latch onto the lither male’s hand, his eyes narrowing in shock when the erasure quirk user let out a shaky breath, pulled away from him and began to reach for the box.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa~!” he baulked; “Shou~! Wait a second~! We should let the police…”

“You heard him, didn’t you?” the younger murmured quietly; “we’re being watched…”

“So~?!” he yelped, his hands waving abortively; “you can’t just…”

“Don’t you get it?!”

Blinking, a flare of hurt momentarily flashing through him when Shouta’s glare struck through him, those dark eyes resigned; “didn’t what happened just now show you how dangerous it is to be mixed up with me?” he pushed, his voice rasping. “Your mom was right I… I mean look at this~!” he shouted, his distress growing; “he just ripped us off the street in broad-daylight like it was nothing~!” he carried on, his eyes screwing shut: “G-God he… he could have killed you-u just now… and then… and you… you’d be… and I… I can’t…”

Swallowing thickly, Oboro was at the other’s side and pulling him into a hug (regardless of him trying to struggle, push and shove him away); “no! No, you’ve got to let go of me, you i-i-idiot~! I don’t w-want you d-d-ying be-e-c-ause of—”

“Shou…”

“—me! L-let go! F-f-orget a-a-bout me, I w-won’t le-t y-you…”

“Shou” he murmured, his arms tightening when the other curled into his chest, his frustrated tears smearing against the thick blazer’s fabric as he held him tightly; “I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now but… you aren’t in control of whether I live or die…”

“B-but…”

“No buts” he soothed; “I could drop dead in the next twenty seconds or live until I’m a hundred… those bastards could kill me or I might choke to death on a hard-candy or sneeze too violently, or something” he tried to laugh, his shoulders relaxing when the other stopped trying to shove him away. “If I get to be with you, well? That’s a chance I’m willing to take…”

“Y-you… you can’t…”

“I can, though” he chuckled into the relative quiet of the massive space; “it’s my choice… it’s my decision to stay at your side for as long as I can be” he murmured into the softness of the other’s hair: “I’m strong enough to deal with those risks and consequences but… but I’m not strong enough to be away from you, alright?”

Sniffling, his head pulling away, Shouta looked up at him; “you… y-you’re an idiot” he told him decisively.

“Heh… only for you” he replied warmly; “n-now… come on, we better get out of here…”

“But I can’t just leave it and I… sh*t” he gasped, his eyes widening as he patted at his arms; “your jacket… oh, oh f*ck! My new phone was in my blazer, if they manage to hack it, then…”

“Yagi-senpai will know what’d happened by now” the older reasoned whilst he helped the other up, his hands cupping still tremoring shoulders; “the phone won’t give them anything other than a ton of silly cat videos anyway, will it?”

Watching the laugh roll up and out of his partner, Oboro allowed himself to momentarily calm before they both turned to the deceptively innocuous present.

“We can leave it…”

“No” the other said; “keeping Sensei onside is… a necessary evil” the shorter sighed, his hands quickly scrubbing his face; “but… just to be safe? Stand back a little, okay?”

“Shou…”

“Please” the other pleaded; “I… I might not be able to save you from… from anything but… but I can limit your exposure” he offered with a little shrug: “for better or worse… he wants me alive, so” he added before moving towards the gift and carefully tugging at the bow.

Then, once the ribbon fell away, he lifted the lid, his eyes peering inside.

“You… you okay?”

Sighing, Shouta reached into the box and pulled out its contents.

“W-what is it?”

“P-photos” the other breathed out quietly, his eyes tearing again as he looked into what Oboro recognised as a frame (heavy, wooden, expensive) containing a range of images.

“Can I…”

Watching the other nod, he took the item so the other could scrub at his face; carefully handling it, the sun-kissed male felt his eyes narrow in shock before they widened in understanding.

That sad*stic f*ck.

For there, in a parody of a thoughtful gift, stared back evidence of All for One’s eyes still steadily fixed upon them; the first image was of Shouta himself when he was young (he looked so small and sad; he had a name-tag stuck to his elementary school sweater: God… was this the first picture taken of him when he was put into the foster system?).

The one beneath showed him a few years older and sporting two black-eyes and a split-lip (a… medical report photo?); the next was his UA id image, a forced smile struggling to manifest and the fourth? Him sat on a beanbag with a pale, red-eyed boy curled in his lap, the child’s face brimming with excitement whilst he pointed at the graphic novel in the erasure quirk user’s hands.

Then, at the centre of the display, he was stood in that fancy suit and (he shuddered) collar next to the same child (the day Sensoji had confronted him in the Mall?) with a faceless, black-suited man behind him; white gloved hands rested upon his shoulders as he tried to smile down at the pouting, clearly uncomfortable boy.

There were pictures of him, Hizashi, Nemuri and their families, too…

Nemuri on the beach, posing with her mother in matching bikini’s and a flock of doting admirers…

Hizashi standing next to his father, the parent showing him which buttons to push on a huge DJ set…

Him and his little brother goofing off in Central Park around the “Alice in Wonderland” scene, their mother sat between them in front of the huge, bronzed toadstool whilst his father flagged down someone to take a photograph with his suitably touristy camera…

The final picture, however, was of the four of them during the Summer School Festival, their matching yukatas and headbands on full display as they tried to get students into the Karaoke Bar they’d made…

However, the most mocking aspect of the present was written starkly for all to see; underneath the main image of the shadowed villain looming over his children, the words “Precious Family Memories” was scrawled in flawless, gold kanji…

They glared out of the deep, highly polished mahogany frame like a slap to the face…

God…

He was going to be sick…

“Heh… d’you know how long I wished to be a part of a family?”

Blinking out of his daze, his fingers numb as Shouta took the item and put it back into the box, Oboro felt his heart twist painfully against his stress-tightened ribcage; “I…”

“Even though I missed my parents and I… I would… I will always love them, even… even if I can’t really remember what they look or… or sound like anymore, I… I knew they weren’t coming back so… so I really, really hoped I could find someone who… who would want me around” he tried to laugh, his tone dejected.

“Shou…”

“Come on” he said quietly, the box held in his left hand as he walked towards the warehouse’s main doors.

Nodding, his eyes casting a quick glare around the structure (he hoped that bastard could see him, he hoped that he understood that his meddling in their lives wouldn’t come to anything because he wouldn’t allow it), Oboro summoned a cloud. Then, being mindful of the other’s state of mind, he carefully approached and offered his partner a hand; “I will always want you around, Shou… always.”

Blinking, his pale cheeks brightening a little at the words, the broader teen pulled him into his lap, a reassuring arm tightening around the younger as he settled there, his head resting heavily against his shoulder as he sent a barrage of smaller, tightly packed clouds to punch through the barriers, allowing them to leave.

Then, hovering outside of the warehouse (he still had his phone; heh, and to think his mom had used to warn him against putting it in his pants’ back pocket) a call to Yagi-senpai, His Purple Highness and Hizashi (heh, having a multi-call feature was a blessing) had the police rushing to the GPS signal bleeping from his UA app.

Shouta was quiet as they sat together; he’d not answered the questions directed to him by their friends and mentor…

He’d just closed his eyes and snuggled into the clouds the older teen had flumped around him to ward off the bitter wind blowing through the old, industrial estate that the cops would no doubt be crawling all over for a while.

God…

What a mess…

So much for him having a happy birthday…

Chapter 31: Better Days Ahead...

Chapter Text

They’d been stuck in the local police department for a good hour; Nemuri and Hizashi were blowing up his phone (UA had been put in lock-down; Principle Abe had had a conniption when she’d learned about them being attacked and had screeched at the ICT Specialists when she was told that Shouta’s id photo had been lifted out of their system)…

“And Kurogiri didn’t say anything else?”

He’d asked Mister Prince not to contact his parents over the incident (because there was no point worrying them and he didn’t want his ear chewed off; the local media were good enough to keep the incident played down, too: luckily, there’d been no injuries when their personal effects had been thrown into the road, either)…

“Was the frame the only item inside the package?”

Yagi-senpai and Gran Torino had had their staff scour the warehouse; it was owned by a Korean Company who had Lithuanian HQ and neither, upon investigation, seemed to actually exist. Not that they’d been surprised, really; however, they had found several cameras (small, cheap, wireless; they just took in images and sound during a live stream which meant, of course, when the owner of the tech logged out, no trace was left behind) dotted about the place…

“Did the villain pass on any notes to you?”

His Purple Highness, bless his heart, had been the first of the scene, his arms wrapping around them both whilst Trailblazer placed the box into a special, quarantine pouch; he’d told them, of course, that they’d not been given a choice when it came to opening it when it looked as though she was about to warn them off doing such things…

“To your knowledge, was he speaking in code?”

Shouta had answered all of their question dutifully, quietly, the progress they’d made in trying to brighten his outlook thrown completely out of the window. However, on a slightly more positive note, their bags were mostly undamaged (along with the salty liquorice, thank goodness) and his jacket with the younger man’s blazer were found in a tree a few blocks away from where they’d been taken.

“No, sir.”

Just as they’d theorised, the raven-haired teen’s phone was gone.

They’d not been able to track it, either…

“Alright then, Aizawa-san… you and Shirakumo-san are free to go” Nemuri’s older brother smiled, his expression full of sympathy as he walked them to the interview-room’s door, a brotherly hand giving the shortest teen’s shoulder a squeeze: “His Purple Highness is waiting for you in the lobby, alright?”

Nodding and offering short, respectful bows, Oboro sighed happily when his partner allowed him to wrap an arm about his shoulder and pull him close as a goat featured officer guided them through the thrumming station, his eyes narrowing a little at the few men and women who looked their way and spoke in whispers.

Tch, not that he could blame them, really…

All for One had been so rarely heard of since his last, cataclysmic fight with All Might; to know that he was loose, to know that he was actively targeting people and getting away with it must be incredibly upsetting and disquieting for the police (whose quirks hadn’t been noticeable enough to make them heroes) tasked with hunting him down…

God, he didn’t envy them one bit and, even though he’d love nothing more than to help he…

He just wanted to be with his lover…

His lover who deserved nothing but peace and happiness…

His lover who now had a visual reminder of his trauma…

Not that he needed it, but a least it could prove useful…

For, as unlikely as it was that the Country’s most feared villain had made a mistake somewhere when it came to the photographs, the police were going to keep a hold of the frame and, when asked if he wanted them to dispose of it afterward, the erasure quirk user had (not that he was surprised, really) asked to have it back.

There were no cameras or any other kind of hardware in the expensive keep-sake and, for better or worse, Shouta didn’t feel comfortable about disposing of it; he was going to place it in a locked-box inside one the Purple Revolution’s lesser used safes, just in case…

Tch, it could stay there and rot, for all he cared…

“Hey boys…”

Smiling, both of them sighed into the warm embrace of their mentor whilst Trailblazer diligently snuggled them up in their blazers and jackets, her smile a little wobbly whilst she wrapped the beautiful, hand-knitted scarf (that some starry-eyed, helpful middle-school kids had rescued from a winter-stark bush) around Shouta’s shoulders…

“Let’s get you two back home, alright?” the oldest of their group breathed as they walked towards the department’s exits, N-san, M-san, P-san and O-san all diligently waiting for them by a car that’d just pulled up; “*Batdance is making up some hot cocoa as we speak and *Partyman is getting us Korean BBQ for lunch, okay?”

~*~

The rest of the day had been spent with them squirreled away inside the Pro hero’s inner sanctum i.e. the Purple Revolutions Spa-Room; Shouta had seen it as an illogical use of space… until he’d had his first nap in the aromatherapy-suite and had had to be dragged out of the place: heh, better days… days before his fight with Garvey.

“Now… I know you said that you didn’t want a party, broody-boy” Prince mused as he passed around another round of steaming hot-chocolate before settling himself on one of the large, exotic floor-cushions; “and don’t worry none, I’ve kept my word” he grinned when the erasure quirk user looked at him dejectedly. “But night-child and loud-child’s kin want to come around when they do after school, just for a little pow-wow, alright?” he coaxed. “Yagi-chan is also dropping by however, I did warn his fine ass that he was not coming in here if the media was on his tail, okay?”

Chuckling a little (the image of his mentor, strong though he was, talking down to All Might was quite the image; and he wouldn’t bet against him keeping the symbol of peace out, either), the freshly turned eighteen-year-old allowed an actual smile to prick his lips as he lounged next to his partner, the sounds of whale-music more soothing than he’d previously thought.

“That… that’s great” he admitted; “I… I didn’t think that they’d want to come at all, really…”

“Heh, you just try stopping Yamada-chan~!” the oldest of the four chuckled (the other members of his team were keeping watch over the Agency whilst working with the private security firm Gran Torino had arranged for them; the operatives had felt awful that the boys had been snatched up so easily: but what could they do?). “She’s a feisty lady, that’s for sure~!” he added before reaching over to add a few more drops of Valerian oil to the cat-shaped ceramic burner sat between them on a low-slung table ringed with coasters for them to use. “You feelin’ a little better now, hun?”

Nodding a little (because, aside from the numbness, he was just so grateful to be here, even if the guilt of Tenko’s fate was eating at him stronger than before), Shouta sucked in a breath, sipped his beverage and looked from his (actually blissed-out; he was probably exhausted from the stress of their shared adventure) boyfriend to their trainer.

“Prince-san” he said quietly, a light blush pinking his cheeks when he looked back to him after checking the room’s closed (because they needed to keep the soothing scents, softly-changing mood lighting and warmth contained) door, the shorter teen squeezed the hand he was holding; “would… could you talk us through what we’d need to, ugh… do, please?”

~*~

Oboro wasn’t quite sure how he was functioning after… the talk…

“Oh my dear, sweet little tempesta~! How brave you are~!”

Sure… he’d fantasised about such things and, well, as a teenager he’d also accessed p*rn (who hadn’t, these days?) which’d given him some further… ideas, but…

“Maa~! My baby and now all of his friends are so grown-up~! Come ‘ere, Shouta-chan, I need a birthday hug~!”

To know that Shouta was trusting him to…

To know that they were both going to…

To know they’d be each other’s’ firsts was…

Heh, it was a good job he’d opted for looser fitting jeans but, by God, his partner was driving him wild in his skin-tight black jeans, leather-belts and the Pusheen t-shirt he’d given him that morning; ahh… dove-grey really suited him…

He’d look better without it, though…

“Hey, you okay man? You’re looking kind’a… flushed?”

Blinking out of his stupidly, dopey gaze (sh*t, he’d been staring at his boyfriend as Nemuri and Hizashi’s mother fawned all over him, his shy blush adorable), the cloud quirk user fumbled out a; “o-oh?”

“Hmm~” their female friend purred, her body (dressed in one of her favourite plaid mini-skirts, patterned tights and a figure-hugging ruby t-shirt featuring a singing co*ckatoo) leaning into his personal space; “I think I know that look~”

“W-w-wha?” he tried, his blush getting darker before, with a cough, he managed to put his hindbrain (as loud as it was) to one-side, his eyes widening when he looked to the smirking blonde (totally rocking a (somehow more) leather version of his hero-costume, his own red t-shirt sporting an ‘I heart Midnight’ logo) who was holding a large gift bag. “Oh, Zashi… you…”

“But of course” the tech genius smiled, his eyes slanting to their best friend as he posed for a picture in a silly, cat-eared party-hat that Prince had just popped atop his head. “It took a while and we spent most of today’s afternoon free-sessions making them clearer, but Aki-Sensei was cool with it and helped us with the rendering” he furthered whilst his girlfriend nodded, her expression now sombre and pleased.

“This was a really thoughtful idea, Boro-kun” she complimented; “was this morning as… awful as I’m imagining?”

“That bastard kissed him” the taller teen whispered, his tone fierce with remembered anger, his eyes moving back to his partner as Trailblazer brought Sushi over to cuddle him; “and he threatened to… sh*t… sorry, I… I can’t…”

“Hey, hey… no worries, man” Hizashi was quick to soothe; “just know that we’re here when you’re ready… when you’re both ready to talk, you know?”

Throwing his arms around them, Oboro squeezed them close before co*cking his head to where the not-party was starting to pick-up, the three of them laughing and cooing as Sushi curled into the beautiful scarf hand crafted by Nona Luna that was wrapped about Shouta’s neck, his little head curling into the birthday-boy’s neck with a loud, reverberating purr…

~*~

Watching as the Purple Revolutionaries toastED Shouta with a cup of sake (which the teens hadn’t been overly impressed by; they couldn’t legally drink for another two years) and start up the Karaoke machine with Yamada Suki snatching a microphone and Kayama Mila opening a bottle of red win from her homeland, the teens chuckle and left them to it.

Yagi-senpai wouldn’t be visiting until later in the evening (it was only 17:00 but the adults didn’t see why they couldn’t start their celebrations now; apparently drinking at this time was normal in Europe?) and so they grabbed platefuls of food, grabbed their sodas and went upstairs to the youngest teen’s room.

They’d made sure that O-san and his compatriots had all received a slice of cake and freshly brewed coffee first though; they’d all insisted on keeping watching outside and in the Agency’s lobby, so if they couldn’t come to the not-party, well, a little not-party could go to them.

If O-san and N-san had hugged them all a little tighter then none of them mentioned it.

“Okay, birthday-bro~!” Hizashi grinned when they were sat upon their ‘official conference rug’ with their beanbags pillowed at their backs, the older couple presented their gift-bags; “I hope you like them~!”

Smiling warmly, the raven-haired teen took his first, his eyebrows rising; “Zashi, this is too much…”

“Ha~ No” the blonde corrected while looking at him over his orange-shades, those jade eyes twinkling; “Yama-dad sends his regards, you know?” he grinned whilst Shouta huffed incredulously, his hands pulling out a set of designer, wireless earphones with a matching, American music player in neon blue and red. “I think I put all of your favourites on there” he furthered with a wink; “but, if I’ve missed any, just let me know, alright?”

“Thank you” the other offered sincerely; “you really shouldn’t have…”

“Tch, just let me spoil you for once, okay?” the other chuffed whilst pointing finger guns at him; “this birthday’s a big deal for lots of reasons, right?”

Nodding, he leaned over and gave the other a hug that was fondly returned.

“Oh, me next, me next~!” Nemuri crooned, her arms already reaching for him regardless of her gift still being sat their unopened; “mm~! That’s right, give Mama-Nemu-chan some sugar, my piccolo gattino~!” she tittered, her boyfriend and Oboro laughing sheepishly as Shouta was squished against her.

“Aww~! There you go~!”

“C-can’t… breathe…”

“Hee-hee~!” the oldest member of their group giggled after placing a kiss on his head and letting him go; “taa-daa~!”

Sucking in a breath, his lips pouting adorably, the erasure quirk user plonked himself between her and his own partner, a blush high on his cheeks as he gratefully accepted the bag she handed to him.

“Oh” he blinked, his eyes widening; “Nemuri, they’re…”

“Heh, it took a little arm twisting and bribing but I think PowerLoader-chan did a real good job with them, don’t you?”

Holding the gold, reinforced goggles (which, surprisingly, weren’t that much heavier than the ones Oboro had gifted him) in his hand to admire, Shouta allowed the other men to lean in to coo at them.

“So that’s why you were sneaking around last week” Hizashi chuckled; “they’re gorgeous babe~!”

“I know, right?!” she giggled; “both functional and stylish, because seriously, Shou-chan, you need to break up all of that black in your costume” she stated whilst nodding to herself, her right index finger tapping at the grids overlaying the special, reinforced glass. “Now the villains will have no idea who you’re targeting with your quirk before it’s too late and, if our favourite R&D genius is as good as we know he is, well~! The glass is completely shatter proof” she preened. “So… go on~! Put them on already~!”

Smiling softly, the raven-haired teen did as instructed; the fit was perfect and, despite the darkness of the lens on the outside, he could see perfectly out of them.

“Wow” he breathed reverently; “they’re amazing, thank you…”

“They look great, too~!” the young woman chirped before, her smile dimming a little; “I… I just wanted to be able to protect you, you know, even when I’m not at your side” she admitted: “I… oohhh~!”

Snuggling into the hug the usually reserved boy wrapped her in, the sleep quirk user offered a wobbly smile and a thumbs up to Oboro as he snapped a picture of them, his own expression warm whilst Hizashi moved in to hug his partner from behind.

Sure, the day might’ve started out like a dumpster fire but, when you hit rock bottom, well?

The only way was up!

~*~

Sneaking into the Purple Revolution Agency hadn’t been too difficult thanks to Sir Nighteye running interference for him (God bless his stoic, little heart~!) and, as he nodded to members of Gran Torino’s security firm, Toshinori couldn’t help his smile as he walked into the place.

There were multicoloured streamers, bunting and a disco-ball spinning from the ceiling; there were tables of (admittedly delicious smelling) food, drink and plenty of places to sit plus a variety of silly party-hats, feather-bowers and novelty eyewear to try on near a small, photobooth stand.

Heh…

It’d been a while since he’d been to such an informal event; hell… he’d take this setup over the stuffy-galas, high-end restaurant dinners and (he shuddered) hero-conventions where he never got a moment’s peace and people constantly invaded his personal space…

“Maa~ Yagi-chan~ Welcome~”

Smiling fondly at Mister Prince (a man he planned to work with a great deal in the future; he and his team were brave, resourceful and friendly besides: the fact that the man also agreed with his own Shishou’s philosophy about smiling was just further icing on the cake), the blonde walked into one of the larger rooms in the Agency. “Here you go, my friend~ O-san told me that you weren’t much for drinking but this fancy beer Mila-chan brought around shouldn’t be wasted, you know?”

Accepting the frothy-headed beverage with a blink (wow, it smelled good), Toshinori bowed his thanks and walked towards the seating area where Shouta was sat, a feathered toy providing great delight to the young cat keeping him company.

Around him, the two women he recognised as Yamada-san and Kayama-san were flicking through a book of songs, Partyman was shaking up some co*cktails, Batdance and Trailblazer were laying out more food and His Purple Highness had briefly jogged out of the room and up a set of stairs he could see in the near darkness.

“Ahh, Shouta-kun, happy birthday~” he greeted on his approach, the newly turned eighteen-year-old peering up to smile at him.

Oh…

That was…

Quite the sight to see…

“Toshinori-san” he greeted whilst standing, the mewling kitten in hand; “thank you for coming” he said with a small, polite bow.

So cute~!

“It’s a pleasure, honestly~!” he returned, his more informal clothing (that he was glad he’d worn now; Sasaki-kun had been right, a suit would have been too much and too noticeable… that, and he liked his khaki-pants and white t-shirt: they made him feel younger and more approachable, too!) crinkling a little as he bowed back. “Ano… if it’s not too bold of me to ask” he furthered, his blue eyes scanning the room; “are your other friends not here?”

Because, even if he really couldn’t have minded some private time with the young man (talented, brave… easy on the eye; no, no! Bad Yagi, bad~! A ten-year age difference was too much… wasn’t it?) this was his birthday, so…

“Heh, they kicked me out of my own bedroom” Shouta snorted, his eyes rolling; “can you believe that?” he chuckled, his head shaking ruefully: “apparently I have another surprise coming my way” he added sheepishly, his right hand rubbing the back of his neck, his expression softening. “They… I wish they wouldn’t keep spoiling me, you know?”

“Hahahaa~! Why, Shouta-kun, I think that it’s marvellous that they are~” he praised whilst they moved to sit on a couch together, the squeals of the women momentarily snatching their attention as they proclaimed “—that’s my favourite song, too~!”

“Ahh, and speaking of spoiling~!”

“Toshinori-san, you haven’t…”

“Maa~ I know that you said that you didn’t need or want anything, however, I couldn’t resist~!”

Chuckling at the other’s bewilderment (it was a shame, on reflection, that the teen wasn’t used to receiving gifts), the symbol of peace handed over the little, plain bag (because if any paparazzi had managed to spot him, then they never would have left him alone if they knew he was going to a party) with a silly flourish.

“You’re a big-hearted idiot, you know that?” the hero trainee chuckled, his smile brightening; “where in the world did you find such a thing?”

“Heh, I have my ways~!” he returned smoothly, his eyebrows waggling as the young man he’d helped to rescue pulled out the present (which he hadn’t had time to wrap), his eyes glistening; “do… do you like it?”

“I love it, thank you” Shouta replied, his hands turning the black-cat figurine over in his hand; it was an anime character posed roguishly with a peace-sign cutely spreading its right paw: it wore a white scarf that looked as though it was blowing in the wind.

“Ahh~! I’m so—”

“Yagi-senpai~!!”

Blinking, the seated pair looked to the trio of teens as they scampered into the room, their expressions joyous whilst they scuttled towards them, the sounds of their mother’s starting up another song and Prince insisting that he join them a happy backing track to the conversations they began to share.

Not that any of them really stopped to think about it, but later they’d all agree that that evening filled with laughter, terrible singing, silly dancing and party-poppers was the start of their adulthood proper…

Chapter 32: The first time...

Chapter Text

The night and its revels soon rolled onto them and sent the guests upon their way with cake, promises of further plans across other weekends and affectionate hair-ruffles, hugs and a few kisses upon the flustered erasure quirk user.

“G’night boys~!” their mentor called.

“B-but… don’t you guys need help tidying everything a—”

“I won’t hear of it~!” the Pro grinned; “we’ve got this mess sorted out so go on, get~! You have tomorrow off but you’re both on patrol duty on Sunday, alright?”

Smiling and nodding gratefully (Shouta was looking forward to trying out his new goggles; Nemuri’s thoughtfulness hadn’t surprised him, per say (because she was always kind and considerate to the people she cared about) but he couldn’t deny just how helpful this new support item would be), the pair held hands and made for the stairs.

“So…” Oboro grinned; “you ready for your last present?”

“Is that what you’re going to call your co*ck, hmm?”

Gasping loudly (and nearly falling back down the stairs in a fit if hysteria, his lover’s deadpanned face crumbling into laughter as he pulled him up), the taller teen summoned a cloud to lift them both up the rest of the way, his smile luminescent as he tried to fight off his giggles; “y-you… you~?!” he tried, his eyes tearing.

“Heh, I think Nemuri’s rubbing off on me…”

“Hey, I thought I was the one who’d rub you off?” the taller teen retaliated, a few chuckles leaving him as the previously smug youth blushed beet-red, a relatively hard punch smacking into his shoulder.

“Ow~!” he mocked cried as they floated into the bedroom, their hands scrabbling at each other before he drew the birthday boy into a kiss, their play-wrestling quickly dissolving into more intimate touches until, his eyes having slipped open (just to take the other in), the broader male carefully broke the contact.

“Umm… I, ugh… it’s not as though I want to, heh, ruin the mood” he murmured; “but… Zashi and Nemu-chan said they’d kill me if I didn’t record you opening what we worked on today…”

“We?” the other blinked as their fluffy vehicle shifted them to the bed (his was a little bigger than Oboro’s and they’d already placed the few things they’d need in his side-table draw away from prying eyes) and dissipated; “so that’s why you were texting so much when I was napping?”

Waggling his eyes brows after a wink, the white-haired hero trainee leaned over the other side of the bed to produce a large, stripy bag and passed it to his partner; “I… we hope that we weren’t, you know, over-stepping?” he advised softly, his phone whipping out of his opened shirt’s pocket, his matching Pusheen t-shirt proudly on display.

Humming in the back of his throat, Shouta reached into the bag and pulled the gift free, his eyes widening, his mouth falling open in shock…

“W-what?”

For their, in his hands, was a frame containing a photograph he’d thought long lost...

It was of himself, his mother and father at his first elementary school; he was holding a trophy, his mother’s sweet smile matching his own as she cuddled him close whilst his sire stood behind them, a “Sports Day” banner waving overhead…

“H-how?” he breathed quietly; “they… they cleared out my… our apartment when… and I… I wasn’t even allowed to… to go back there…” he said, his shaking fingers tracing over his mom’s wavy-jet hair, his father’s reserved yet proud face.

“Heh… you know Zashi’s tech-skills are beyond a mere mortal’s understanding, right?” he laughed softly as he sent the video message and put his phone down; “he and Nemuri worked on putting this together all afternoon I… when you looked at that… that thing he gave you, well, you said you struggled to remember your parents” he murmured. “And, ahh… I figured that they had to be out there somewhere on the internet” he smiled as he moved to sit beside his boyfriend; “what… what were their names?”

Leaning into his lover’s warmth, Shouta smiled; “Aizawa Hiyori and Hedeki” he said quietly: “my mom was an accountant and my dad was a General Manager for the same small logistics company” he furthered, his eyes fixed on their faces. “They… they were both quirkless” he murmured; “and they… they made such a big deal about me having one… heh, they even had a hero-fund box set up at work by the head of the company but… but when their office building collapsed, well… no one got out alive” he breathed.

“Shou… I’m so sorry” he offered gently; “we… do you want to talk about it, or…”

“This is probably the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me” the younger cut in, the memory of his younger self as his parents hugged him during a school event he’d won the year before they’d died playing across his mindscape, his heart almost too full to bear.

“I… I just wish there was something more I could do” Oboro sighed softly, his arm wrapping about more slender shoulders; “I…”

“There is… something you can do” the shorter teen admitted, a grin trying to pull his lips whilst he tenderly put the frame back inside the bag and gently placed it upon the carpeted floor; “something we can do” he added, his cheeks pinking lightly. “I… I just want to feel good…”

Nodding, a lightly tanned hand reaching out to cup an ivory cheek, the older drew him in for a soft kiss.

“Yeah… I think we can do that…”

~*~ SMUT AHOY~! If you don’t like/don’t want to read explicit Yaoi sex then back-arrow out of here~! ~*~

They’d sat together, just enjoying the kinds of touching that’d started to ramp up before his abduction, their tongues now completely indulging in play, their lips enjoying the caresses they shared until, with a blink, Oboro realised that his hands were starting to wander to new areas…

New areas where Shouta was starting to find on his body too…

sh*t, they’d never really done anything beyond jerking each other off (which… had been amazing) but to do what they were planning on was, well?

So much further beyond that, wasn’t it?

“Hey-y… do you remember what I said earlier? About you being able to say no?”

Feeling a smile (far more nervous and hell, probably ninety percent shy) tug at his lips, the younger tried to roll his eyes as they regarded each other, their faces flushed; “if I didn’t want to do this” he replied with a chuckle; “then I would have pushed you off of the bed, wouldn’t I?”

“I… I just wanted to, ugh, d-double check” the staff wielder said, the last vestiges of seriousness dropping him as he eyed the slightly shorter, definitely leaner fighter; “so… umm, should… should we start off in the shower? That… that’s probably a good idea, right?”

“You just want to show off in front of your rubber-duck collection, don’t you?”

“Hahahaa~! Well, ugh, they do love a show~!” he admitted, his eyebrows giving a playful wiggle that had Shouta snorting. “T-that and, well? Since this is our first time, I thought it’d help” he added, his smirk broadening when his partner tilted his head in confusion; “that… and the thought of seeing you all wet and soapy just does things to me, okay?”

“R-really?” the baulked, his blush now burning past his ears.

“Really” the other close to purred before slipping off of the bed and reaching out for him.

Humming (probably to distract himself from what was going to happen next because, as much as he genuinely wanted to give himself to Oboro, he couldn’t help but feel… nervous), the younger of the pair followed him into his ensuite.

“Umm… you want me to, ugh, move the ducks out of the way?”

“And stop them for having their fun?” the ebony haired hero trainee quipped; “how could I deny them?” he added with a rueful shake of his head before, with a baulk, he noticed that his lover had started to shuck off his shirt before pulling his t-shirt up and over his head.

Oh yeah… you kind of needed to be naked to shower, didn’t you?

“Like what you see?”

Flushing and looking away with all the efficacy of kid caught grabbing a treat from the cookie jar, Shouta was suddenly, blindingly aware of how self-conscious he was.

“Maybe” he answered whilst feigning nonchalance, his eyes sneaking another quick glance; sh*t! He needed to get a hold of himself! He’d seen the other naked before, hell! He’d stripped completely naked save for a plume of cloud on the first day of their second year at UA in their God damned homeroom, for f*ck’s sake… and it wasn’t as though they hadn’t showered together at school (albeit in separate cubicles) and they’d snuggled together in their underwear too…

Double sh*t!

What was he being so stupid for?

This kind of nervousness was illogical, irrational, he…

“Y-you okay?”

“Y-yeah, of… of course I am” he huffed, his arms folding stiffly as he forced himself to calm down.

“Do… do you want me to…” Oboro said, his right hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, his chest (just as smooth as his own; heh, it was nice that neither of them were overly hairy, he supposed) now on fully display; “do you want any help, or…”

“Wha—? N-no, no… ugh, no, thanks… I-I got it” Shouta stuttered back, his fingers fumbling at the two, looped leather belts slung over his hips; tch, stupid buckles....

“Hey… hey…”

Blinking when hands just a fraction larger than his cupped his own, the slightly shorter stopped, their eyes locking.

“I… umph…”

His lover’s lips were wonderfully soft and the kiss? Well, as unexpected as it was, the paler of the pair couldn’t deny just how good it felt, especially when he moved to deepen it, his tongue asking for permission with slow, deliberate movements.

Moaning despite himself, the erasure quirk user tilted his head slightly to give the other access, his eyes having slipped closed when strong arms wrapped around his and a broad, hot body pressed against his own as they got bolder, their tongues exploring the depths of their tea-perfumed mouths.

“Umm” the ivory haired teen murmured as he broke the kiss, both of them slightly breathless; “that better?” he asked, a fond look flashing across his face as he tightened the hold he had on the other man: “you… you okay to keep going?”

~*~

The spray of water running over them was just the right temperature…

“God I… I’ve also wanted… to… to hold you like this…”

They were stood single-file; Shouta virtually under the jets of water with Oboro a hairs-breadth behind him, the younger man expertly running a bubbly sponge across the ebony haired male’s shoulders, chest and muscled-toned stomach.

“You’ve got a beautiful body, you know that?”

Was this what pampering felt like? Because, if it was, a greedy little part of his hindbrain had already decided that he was down for more of the same, especially when the other hero trainee kneaded his shoulders and fluttered feather-light kisses against his neck and jawline.

“Heh… you like me kissing you there?”

Those soapy hands were dipping lower.

“Are… are you alright with me touching you here?”

Baulking, his body shuddering, the younger felt his legs tremble when the cloud quirk user started to slowly yet firmly massage his already hardening co*ck, the other’s confident touching causing him to gasp as one hand (the ebony haired man couldn’t tell which) continued to jerk him off whilst the other fondled his balls.

The combination was mind-blowing and so unlike the odd occasions he’d tried to get himself off…

“Damn… you keep making those noises… I… I love how vocal you are” the broader murmured, his lips now taunting the shell of the shorter male’s right ear as he quickly re-soaped himself, his absence making the raven-haired youth keen in the back of his throat before the ministrations continued.

“Ah-h… God… God I’m… I’m close…”

“Good” Oboro murmured; “let yourself go… I’ve got you…”

Whimpering back a shocked cry, Shouta did just that, his eyes rolling with a pleasure he’d only ever touched on when jerking himself off before now.

“Heh… that good, huh?”

“S-shut-up” he laughed good naturedly, his toes curling in the warm ripples of water still pooling about them; “you got… magic in those fingers… or something?”

Chuckling into the other’s shoulder, the sun-kissed teen moved his hands to splay them across the other’s hips; “maybe” he murmured: “or maybe it’s just what you do to me that makes me so amazing…”

“We… ugh… we should probably…” the slightly shorter cut in with an embarrassed cough (because, seriously? If he kept getting these damned compliments his head wouldn’t stop spinning); “I… ugh… w-we can’t have that much hot water left, right?”

Planting one final kiss to the younger man’s cheek, the taller leaned over to shut off the flow before reaching back and passing him a towel; “come on then” he said fondly: “we better get you tucked up in bed before you get a chill” he stated with a wink, his hand snagging the birthday-boy’s and leading him out of the steamy chamber.

“Ha! What, you’re my doctor now?”

“Ooh… I could go for a game of doctor and patient if you’re in to role-play” the taller cooed; “better still, doctors and nurses” he smirked: “I bet you’d look fantastic in a skirt… whoa~!”

Huffing out his laughter as Shouta pushed him onto the bed, his own grin forming whilst his lover stared up, his eyes widening to appreciate the view whilst his partner crossed him arms in a grandiose fashion. “Crossdressing, huh?” he said before moving to sit beside him, his initial shyness seemingly long gone; “maybe that’s something we could think about when your birthday rolls around” he added with a jaunty smile.

“Please tell me that I’m awake and not dreaming...”

“Hmm? D’you dream of me that often, hmm?” the shorter snickered as Oboro started to manoeuvre them into the large bed’s centre and further up to where the pillows were nestled.

They’d already put the cat-plushies and All Might doll into the bean-bagged area so they wouldn’t get in the way.

“Oh… err… well, um… maybe?”

“You’re an idiot” the erasure quirk user grunted fondly, his eyes rolling in the light of the other’s youthful antics; “heh… not that I don’t dream about you, or anything” he begrudgingly admitted, his nerves having settled, the closeness of their friendship overcoming the awkwardness he’d been previously feeling.

“Well, who could blame you?” the taller smirked cheekily as he casually rolled to lay atop the paler male; “I’m pretty fine, aren’t I?” he purred, his mouth pressing down for another kiss before Shouta could get his tsundere protest out. Then, encouraged by the returning of the gesture, he carefully started to part those long, creamy thighs with his right hand whilst his left kept him supported.

Blinking, a deep intake of surprise momentarily parting their lips, the lither male blushed and tentatively moved to spread his legs, his apprehension growing.

He wasn’t an idiot, he knew how this was going to work, but…

“We don’t have to go this far if you’re not ready.”

“Oh… oh no, I’m… I’m fine, I just…”

“Seriously, Shouta… I can always jump back into the shower and…”

“Oboro” he breathed, his hands rushing up to cup the other’s face; “maybe if you were anyone else I’d be having doubts” he admitted, his ebony eyes staring into endless azure unflinchingly: “but I… if I were ever going to trust someone to… well, sh*t… you… you know I’m not great with words and, ugh, feelings” he tried to explain. “You can’t know what this means to me, really, and… heh, you’ve got to know that I don’t want to be anywhere else or do anything else, alright?”

Blinking slowly, his face relaxing into a pleased and (God, so beautiful) smile, the cloud quirk user released a breath he didn’t release he’d been holding.

“Good” he said gently; “I feel exactly the same way…”

~*~

Kissing Shouta senseless was, he’d admit, something he could become very used to...

“You, sir, are just a little too good at this” he praised whilst he moved the other’s long, supple legs to wrap about his middle (to help him get used to the position and to ensure that he was perfectly positioned to take his girth after he’d prepared him to receive it), those slim ankles interlocking at the small of his back whilst he leaned in, his lips pressing against his partner’s once more.

Then, once the other was pliant and mewling, he kept his left hand purposefully snaking through the silky hair at the younger male’s neck-nape whilst his right slithered down to grasp at nipples, skirt over ribs and slink further to grasp the hardened member.

A couple of slow, gentle caresses had his lover arching so beautifully, his hands still desperately clawing at the bedding at his sides (he’d have to work on getting the other to let go and touch him in exchange; he was very much looking forward to that) as he whimpered into sun-kissed man’s eager mouth and panted for breath.

God… he couldn’t believe they were here, doing this…

“Hmm... you have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you?”

Breath hitching, pupils dilating, the ebony haired fighter struggled to comprehend the slightly taller male’s words; those talented hands seemed to be touching him everywhere, their tips setting off trails of fiery arousal wherever they went.

He was drowning, the linen seemingly liquefying and swamping him... or maybe he was floating?

Were they floating?

Hell, Oboro must have activated his quirk without thinking…

God…

That was hot…

To think that he could turn the confident, gorgeous man (the former heart-throb of their hero-course class, the teen that virtually all of his female classmates, and a few of the male, had all been pining for) on like this was, well…

Really, very flattering, wasn’t it?

However, reality soon returned to him when deft fingers moved to part the firm flesh of his ass; somehow the fingers, gently questing, had become slick in the moments he’d become too distracted by his pleasure to notice and they were venturing towards his...

“O-oh…”

“Shh, it’s alright, just try your best to relax during this bit, alright?” the older instructed softly, his voice everywhere and nowhere as Shouta moved to clutch onto this broad, warm shoulders to assure himself that this was real, that he had something to hold onto. “It’s going to feel a little uncomfortable at first… but it gets so much better, I promise.”

Grunting, his body quivering as he tried to calm himself down, the slenderer hero trainee buried his face into the crook of the other’s neck whilst the blunt tip of an index finger rubbed, pressed and finally breached him. Then, with slow, steady determination, it continued to push inside thanks to the film of moist substance it was wrapped in.

It was strange, it hurt and try as he might he couldn’t...

“Ahhh...”

“Y-you o-okay? God… I didn’t think you’d be this tight… just breathe, that’s it, you’re doin’ so great…”

Swallowing, another kiss moving in to distract him, he didn’t even realise that the one finger had become two, three until a spike of pleasure overrode the feeling of being stretched; it rippled up and out of his core in a scream that had him clenching his own fingers on tanned shoulders and straining his legs to clamp about Oboro’s waist, desperately keeping him in place.

He’d never known anything to feel so...

“Heh… there you go” the taller man praised, his fingers ruthlessly rubbing against the prostate he’d found within the tight, velvet channel he was so desperate to enjoy; “you are so beautiful... so hot...” he gasped. “A-are you ready for the… the next step?”

“Ahh… yeah… yeah that sounds… ah, great” the erasure quirk user mewled, his hips bucking and squirming blindly in his euphoria.

Chuckling, his smile maybe a little smug, the older teen carefully extracted his fingers before angling his hips and moving into position, his left arm cradling his partner to him whilst the right pressed against the other’s lower-back, keeping him secure as the fattened tip of his penis, already beading pre-cum, touched the tight ring of muscle.

“R-remember to… to relax... breathe... that’s it” he instructed whilst carefully, tenderly rubbing against the puckered, reddened flesh before, with a barely restrained groan, he pushed it into the sweltering heat the other provided, his lips returning to Shouta’s in order to catch the other’s delicious moans and whimpers.

Oh, but he had been worth waiting for...

Then, the other’s quivering form having adjusted to swallow him (as he hoped, as he knew he would), he began a series of slow, deep thrusts whilst his tongue lapped and his teeth nipped their way across a neck he intended to leave very decorated before the morning came.

“Ahh… ah… B-Boro... hard-er... harder, please...”

Allowing a low, darkening groan to escape him, the broader did as ordered and was soon snapping his hips with a rapid, maddening abandon, his hips angling to pound the other’s sweet-spot, his own hands digging into soft, lily-white flesh until part of his mind returned. Gasping, his right hand (trembling, desperate) slipped past their sweat-slickened stomachs to fist and tug (not too harshly; he would not harm this amazing man) at Shouta’s purpled, weeping member.

With the lither teen’s climax came a sputtered, unbidden scream and a tightened, crushing pressure around his own pleasure-seeking co*ck; two, three, four, five hard rolls of his hips later and he came harder than he had since puberty hit his libido like a train.

“Oh-h… oh God, Shou… Shou that” he whimpered, his clouds helping to stop his heavier form from collapsing onto him; “God… God I love you… love you s-so… so much…”

“I… I love you too” the other answered breathlessly, his blushing face buried into that sun-kissed neck, the pair of them shuddering.

Neither could have been happier…