Chapter Text
The man just kept getting stranger.
Shinsou had followed him through the darkening streets of Musutafu.
They had been moving at a brisk pace, cutting through alleyways, and crossing through the less populated parts of the city. But always at the same, steady, quick pace.
They never stopped to catch their breath once.
It was starting to take a toll on Shinsou, he wasn't the most athletic, barely managing a one minute run during sport classes.
Regardless, he tried hard to keep up
The man was like a ghost.
His footsteps were soft, somehow. Never making a sound. They were quick, only ever touching the ground for a brief second before transitioning into the next step.
He held himself tall, like that of a man with worth.
Until suddenly the man stopped, it took great effort and control for shinsou to not crash into him.
Then he switched course, making a sharp turn to the left and belting into the nearby alleyway.
Shinsou made to follow, but the heavy sound of a large object joining the pavement, followed by the high pitch chorus of a pack of mourning dogs froze shinsou in his tracks.
It was an odd collection of noises. Something so strangely familiar, yet foreign all the same.
Before Shinsou had time to contemplate his next action, the man returned. He looked the same as before, which for some reason felt odd to Shinsou.
The man grunted, he tilted his head in the opposite direction to the alley. A silent command to relocate.
An uneasy feeling began to fester within. An uncomfortable feeling not unlike that of syrup drying on your skin, and pulling the hairs that grow in an unnatural way that feels almost painful.
“What was that?” the words spilled before he had a chance to think them through.
The man only stared. Those bug-like eyes that seemed to only see his soul. The sticky feeling only grew with each passing moment. The man never blinked.
Finally, he said, "don't worry about it.” Like that answered anything.
Shinsou didn't move, but the man did. He turned swiftly, like a hawk. Making towards the destination he had gestured towards earlier.
The unease quickly morphed into anger. Who was this man?
Had the situation been any different, Shinsou was sure he would've turned around right then and there. He would've gone home, fixed himself a cup of coffee, and curled up under the covers with his computer.
But… the man had claimed he had potential. He had believed in him, without even really knowing him. Which was more than even his own parents.
So, he made his choice.
Running after the already disappearing man, he ignored the ache in his legs, as they grew numb, and continued onward.
Keeping up with the man proved to be far more difficult this time around. The man was no longer jogging, and was now advancing in a full sprint. Continuously, without stopping for even a moment.
Shinsou could no longer feel his legs beyond the shrill screams they seemed to be letting out anytime he moved them. Just pain, and nothing else.
Just like the first time, the man abruptly made a turn towards another alleyway. But this time Shinsou was ready, and was quick to follow.
Within the alley there was some kind of drug deal going on.
The man spared no time, quick as a bird, he lunged at one of the dealer, and took him down with one swift kick. He then made a sharp turn and grabbed the other dealer with his weird paper scarf, and threw him head first into the pavement.
He delt a quick punch to the jaw to the third man, and finished with a roundhouse kick.
All three dealers were on the floor in a pile, none of them seemed to have tried using their quirks, Shinsou guessed they weren't given time to think about it.
The man is quick to restrain them, and he gives a few words to the addicts. Shinsou is too far away to make out what, but it seems to do the trick as they are quick to pull out their phones and call somebody.
The man stays for a few more seconds before pulling out his own phone and making a call. Only then does he depart back to where Shinsou is waiting.
He nods at Shinsou and then quickly takes off again. The message is clear.
“What was that?” Shinsou asks the man after a few minutes.
“Hm?” The man grunts in response, not taking his eyes off the path ahead of them.
Shinsou takes a moment to contemplate his next words. “back at the alley, you were so fast…”
The man doesn't stop, but he looks back. Those same raisin-like eyes lock with his own. Shinsou isn't sure he could ever get used to them.
“I told you, didn't I?"
Watch and see.
So that's what he meant.
The man breaks eye contact, and suddenly Shinsou's back to studying the man's knotted hair, and his dirty clothes.
From his appearance he looks like an unfortunate case. A homeless man without access to clothes, or other hygiene products. A man down on his luck, someone who is nobody, and has nothing to offer.
But, the way he stands, the way he walks, the way he stares directly into your soul like you owe him something. Speaks of a man of class, a man with power, and most importantly: training.
So what's a man like that doing on the streets begging for money?
Perhaps he's hiding? Maybe there's a bounty on his head? It would explain his inconspicuous look.
Perhaps he's a villain? He does seem to be very skilled at combat.
The thought scares him, a part of him wants to run away, never interact with this probably very dangerous man again. But again, curiosity and a small bud of blossoming hope is what drives him forward. Even if he is dangerous, he still has something to offer, and he's willing to teach him.
It's this small spark of hope that spurs him on to ask, “who are you?”
In hindsight this is a question he should've started with.
“Earaserhead.” The man responds bluntly.
Earaserhead. Shinsou contemplates the name, wondering if he's heard it before.
Regardless, it's a code name, that much is clear. The man doesn't want him to know his real name, whether it's because he's a wanted criminal, or other reasons.
The man- Earaserhead does not ask for his name in turn.
“Are you a villain?” He decides to ask next. It's a stupid question, Shinsou realizes. If he were a villain he wouldn't tell him, or he might just kill him for asking.
Even so, he can't find it in himself to regret the question, the man had stopped a drug deal, he was clearly on the good side somewhat.
A long moment passes, then Eraserhead lets out a breathy laugh, “no, kid.” he says.
“Im a hero.”