Chapter Text
Shouta had been looking for this kid fucking everywhere since Tsukauchi first enlisted his help in finding him. And now he just shows up, on some random sidewalk during the start of Shouta's patrol.
He does a double-take at first, unsure if it's really the same kid or just someone who looks similar. There's probably thousands of teenagers with pink hair here, after all.
But no, it's the same kid. Same distinctive facial scars, and looking at him from this angle, Shouta can see the tip of his right ear is missing. Like it was sliced clean off.
He steps in front of the kid and they start talking. It takes some convincing, but Shouta gets him to come down to the police precinct with him.
Twenty minutes later, they're sitting in Tsukauchi's office. Well, the detective and the kid– who had introduced himself as Itadori Yuuji–are sitting. Shouta is leaning against the wall in the corner by Tsukauchi's desk.
After Tsukauchi asks about his quirk, Itadori laughs awkwardly.
"Oh, yeah. That's because I don't have a teleportation quirk."
Tsukauchi's eyebrows raise for a moment before he schools his expression. "So someone else teleported you? A friend or hero maybe?" Tsukauchi's turns his head slightly and his eyes meet Shouta's. They both know there is exactly two heros with teleportation quirks, one of which can only teleport herself and neither of them were active that day.
Itadori cracks his knuckles as he thinks, probably just to have something to do with his hands, and Shouta notices his ring and pinky fingers are amputated just below the knuckle on his left hand.
What the hell happened to this kid? He looks like he got thrown in a paper shredder.
"I'm not sure. I don't know anyone with a teleportation quirk, and I don't really remember what happned."
Shouta speaks up this time. "Do you remember where you were before you got teleported to that crosswalk?"
Itadori nods. "I was in Shinjuku, and I was…Uh," he trails off.
Shouta crosses his arms over his chest. "You said you were attacked by a villain. lets start there. Do you know this villains name?"
Itadori seems to think it over for a moment before nodding again. "Sukuna." He murmurs, looking at his hands in his lap.
Tsukauchi shares another glance with Shouta before turning back to Itadori. "I've never heard of a villain named Sukuna, do you know what they look like, what their quirk is, things like that?"
Itadori shifts in his seat and glances around. He looks anxious now for some reason. His knee bounces under the desk. "Uhh, he's around 230 centimeters. Has short pink hair, four eyes and arms, black tattoos on his arms and chest. His quirk is–Uhm, I don't know."
He's absolutely lying, but Shouta doesn't want to scare him away and neither does Tsukauchi. So they don't press.
"Where did you go afterwards? Do your parents know about the villain attack?"
Itadori starts picking at the stump of his left ring finger, knee still bouncing. "Oh, uh. My dad died when I was a baby and my grandfather, who was taking care of me, died recently."
Shouta scratches his head. This might get awkward. "I'm sorry for your loss. What about your mother?"
Itadori scratches at the scar on the corner of his mouth and winces a little. "She's uhm… She's a villain– well she was. She was killed recently."
That gets their attention. Tsukauchi leans forward in his seat and Shouta's eyebrows shoot up.
"Did you have much contact with her before she died?" Tsukauchi asks as he types someting on his computer.
From where Shouta is standing behind him, he can see him pull up Itadori's file on his monitor.
Itadori Yuuji, born March 20th, 2203. Son of Itadori Jin and Itadori Kaori, both deceased. One older sibling, a brother, Itadori Choso. Also deceased. Not currently enrolled in in school a public school.
So far most of what he's been saying checks out, his quirk is kind of weird though.
Quirk: Hell's Kitchen. Type: Emitter/Mutant. Desc: User can send out Slices at range, or Dices through physical contact. When both are used, Furnace can be opened. User's blood is poisonous.
What does poisonuous blood have to do with cooking? Though he supposes it could just be a genetic quirk characteristic, like if he had someone further back in his family with a blood quirk.
Shouta shakes his head slightly and re-focuses on the conversation at hand as Itadori speaks up again.
"No, I barely knew her. I don't think we ever even had an actual conversation, she was too busy attacking me–" He cuts himself off, like he didn't mean to share that last detail.
Again, they don't want to scare Itadori off, so they just move on. "Okay," Shouta starts. "If your immediate family are all dead, who's your current gaurdian?"
Itadori blinks. "Well, I think it was my Sensei."
Holy shit, it's like pulling teeth with this kid. "Was?" Shouta asks, not sure if he really wants to hear the answer.
"He died recently." His voice wobbles slightly and his eyes grow distant.
"And you're not in foster care. So currently, there's no adult taking care of you?" Tsukauchi confirms, trying to do damage control before the kid starts full on crying.
Itadori shakes his head.
Shouta goes to pinch the bridge of his nose but stops himself, he doesn't want the kid to think he's mad at him. He takes a deep breath insead. "Then where have you been living?"
Itadori shifts in his seat again. "Do we really need to get into that?"
"Yeah, kid, we do." Shouta says, voice firm.
Itadori's brows furrow for a moment before he smiles, strained. "Listen, entrance exams are right around the corner, I'm gonna get into a good hero school and I'll just stay in the dorms. Problem solved."
Shouta's brows knit together. "There's no guarantee you're going to get in, you know that, right?"
Itadori's leg, which hasn't stopped bouncing since the start of this conversation, speeds up. "I'll figure it out." He insists.
Shouta uncrosses his arms pushes off the wall, stepping forward. "We can't in good conscience let you go back out onto the streets."
Itadori stiffens in his seat and his leg stops bouncing. "I'm not going into the foster care system."
Tsukauchi raises his hands in a placating motion. "Itadori-kun, if you'd just–"
"No!" Itadori shouts, shooting to his feet and slamming his hands on the desk. The wood splinters under the force. He quickly pulls his hands back, dropping them at his side and leaving two dents in their wake. "Sorry." He murmurs before continuing, quieter this time. "What– whatever you're gonna say to try and convince me, no."
"I'm not trying to convince you, I'm telling you. You're not going back out there on your own. I wouldn't be doing my job as a hero if I let that happen." Shouta replies steadfastly.
Itadori nervously glances from Shouta who stares back, unwavering, to Tsukauchi, who has a pinched expression on his face.
Shouta sighs, he can't believe he's offering this. "I will give you a choice though. We can either find you a placement with a family–which might be hard consdering your quirk," Itadori's brows furrow at that. "So more likely, it'd be a children's home. Or you can stay with me."
"Well that's not really a choice, is it." Itadori huffs, sinking back down into his seat and glowering. Shouta has to hand it to him, given his scars, it'd be pretty intimidating if it weren't for the fact he's immune to angry teenagers.
"I'm licensed as a foster parent, and as a hero I can get the paperwork fast-tracked." He elaborates. Itadori mutters something along the lines of 'wouldn't that be an abuse of power', Shouta ignores him. "So, what'll it be, Itadori-kun?"
"I'll go with you, but only because I have to. I'm not gonna trust you blindly just because you're a hero." Shouta hears the unspoken message in Itadori's words, the: You do anything I don't like, and I'm gone.
"That's fair." Shouta concours.
Itadori blinks, suprised to be agreed with.
Tsukauchi clears his throat. "So, are we done here? Because I was actually in the middle of something before you came in, Eraserhead." He smiles politely.
"You don't need to ask me more questions about Sukuna?" Itadori asks. He seems relieved.
"You're free to go." Tsukauchi confirms.
Itadori jumps to his feet, eager to leave, and Shouta moves to open the office door for him. "Sorry about your desk," He apologizes, to which Tsukauchi just waves him off.
Itadori side-eyes Shouta as he walks past him. "I'll keep you updated," he tells Tsukauchi before letting the door fall shut behind them.
Itadori tugs at the straps of his backpack, shifting his weight from his right foot to his left. "So, are we just going to your place or…" When offering to house him, Shouta didn't anticipate how awkward it might be.
"I was going to ask if there's anything you need to go get from wherever it is you've been sleeping."
Itadori shakes his head, bouncing up and down on his heels a little. It makes him actually look his age. "Nope. Everything I have is right here." To emphasize his point, he snaps his backpack straps against his shoulders.
Well that's sad.
"I guess we're going back to my apartment then," Shouta decides.
Once they're out on the street, Itadori asks, "Do you have a car?"
"No."
"Oh, okay."
Shouta starts walking. Itadori stands still for a moment before he starts moving and has to jog to catch up with Shouta's longer legs. They walk in silence for a few moments before Itadori speaks up. "Back there, what did you mean by that? My quirk making it harder to find a placement?"
Shouta sighs, which it seems he's been doing a lot today. "Kids with higher risk quirks are harder to place, people find them villainous. Even if they havn't actually done anything to earn that title." He makes air quotes around villainous.
Itadori seems to think about this, nodding slowly. To Shouta's surprise, he doesn't try to dispute it or ask how Shouta knows what his quirk is. Instead he asks, "will that impact my chances on getting into U.A?"
That gets Shouta's attention. He hadn't said he was specifically trying for U.A earlier, but Shouta supposes he shouldn't be shocked. U.A is the dream for every aspiring hero, even if it is a little unrealistic. He hopes he doesn't get Itadori in his class. It'd make things even more awkward if he has to expel him. "Legally, they can't deny you enrollment because of your quirk."
"But they can if they say it's for a different reason." Itadori counters to which Shouta shrugs, because he's not wrong.
"As an employee of U.A though, I can assure you they have a strict zero tolerence policy for quirk discrimination."
Itadori's eyes widen. "You work there?"
"I'm a teacher, yes."
"So you could help me study for the entrance exam, right? Because I kind of have some gaps in my education…" Itadori rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.
Shouta knew Itadori wasn't currently enrolled in school, but he's now realizing he doesn't know how long it's been since he was last in a classroom. "What kind of gaps?" He asks.
Itadori gnaws at his lower lip. "My weakest subjects are definitely math, science, especially quirk science, and history." He begins to count on his fingers as he speaks, but stops when he gets to the stump of his ring finger and realizes he doesn't have enough.
"When was the last time you were in school?"
Itadori goes to count on his fingers again, but seems to give up and instead just runs a hand through his already dishelved hair. Once he's settled in, Shouta will ask if he wants a hair cut. "It's been a while. And when I was in school, I was struggling a lot too."
Shouta comes to a stop. Itadori looks up and seems to process their surroundings. They're in front of the train station. Shouta scans his rail pass and pays for Itadori. "We're taking the train to the other side of town, my apartment is near U.A"
They wait for and board the train mostly in silence, the only noise being the afternoon rush around them as people just off from work go home. Once they're standing holding onto the grab handles in the very full train car, Shouta pulls out his phone with his other hand to check his email. Itadori seems to think he's been silent long enough because he turns to Shouta and asks, "What's your quirk?"
Shouta turns his phone off and pockets it again. It'd be a rude question if he wasn't a hero or Itadori's new gaurdian. And he supposes it's fair considering he already knows Itadori's quirk. "Erasure, I can disable the quirk of anyone within my line of sight. It deactivates when I close my eyes."
"That's so cool!" Itadori gasps, which surpises Shouta a little. Most people don't find his quirk cool. They usually understand the utility of it, but the idea he can make them powerless with just a look is too unsettling for many.
"Since I answered your question, can I ask you one about your quirk?"
Itadori shrugs, sticking his hand in his pocket. "Shoot,"
"What does 'furnace' mean?"
"It's the name for the third part of my quirk. The activation requirement is using both slashing attacks first, then I can create a burst of flame. I'm not very good at it though, and it's too destructive to pratice with."
That's probably why he wants to get into U.A. Their training grounds are famous. "What about the cutting aspect of your quirk. How good is your control over that?" As Shouta asks this, he subtly eyes the missing tip of Itadori's ear. It's an entirely clean cut. If that is what happened, well he wouldn't be the first person to accidentally injure themselves with their own quirk.
"I have pretty good control over it. Lately I've been practicing my precision with smaller targets and the intensity of the slashes. Wouldn't want to accidentally cut anyone in half after all!" He laughs a little too loudly and a buisnessman standing next to them looks up from his phone and side-eyes Itadori. Shouta doesn't think this is very funny, but at least it shows he understands the danger his quirk could pose.
The train halts to a stop and after a moment the doors open. They step out onto the platform.
Itadori trails behind Shouta as he starts in the direction of his apartment complex. Itadori glances around, taking in their surroundings as they walk. They're probably in much nicer part of town than he's used to.
A few minutes later they arrive in front of his building. Shouta nods at the security gaurd by the door and scans his hero ID to be let in. He turns to check and make sure Itadori is still following him, which he is. "Your apartment building has a lot of security," He observes, tone a little incredulous.
"A lot of heros live here, so security has to be tight in case a villain wants to target them on their day off." Shouta explains as he types in the very long coded for the elavator. The code is so long Itadori starts bouncing on his heels impatiently.
"Did you forget the code?" He asks, leaning around Shouta's side to see what he's doing.
Shouta shakes his head, resisting the urge to tell him to back up. "No. And I'm almost done." He enters the last digit and the elavator doors slide open. He ushers Itadori in first before coming in behind him and hitting the button for the fith floor.
One of the many things Shouta likes about his apartment building is that the elavators don't play music. They stand in silence as they go up. Itadori taps the tip of his shoe against the ground in sets of three. This brings the fact his ratty red sneakers are being held together with duct tape to Shouta's attention. He adds new shoes to the mental list he's been making of things he'll need to buy for Itadori.
The elavator halts to a stop and the doors slide open again.
He leads Itadori down the hallway until they come to a stop in front of the second to last door and he pulls his keys out to unlock it.
Stepping into Eraserhead's apartment, Yuuji's not sure what he's expecting. The BatCave, maybe. From the entrance, he can see a worn navy blue sofa sitting in front of a window overlooking the street. There's a comfortable looking leather chair next to it. To the right, in the corner there's a cat tree and up against the wall next to it is a large dark brown bookshelf and then a hallway, presumably leading to the bedrooms and bathroom. On the other side, he can partially see the kitchen.
Eraserhead clears his throat. He's standing in front of the genkan, shoes already off. Yuuji scrambles to follow suit.
"You have a cat?" Yuuji asks, already feeling excitment starting to bubble up. Maybe animals won't be scared of him now since he's not Sukuna's vessel anymore. It's been so long since he's pet or even just got close one that's not one of Fushiguro's shikigami. Though, right now he'd give almost anything just to see Fushiguro as himself again–
"Not anymore." Eraserhead grunts, cutting off Yuuji's train of thought. His eyes dart to the bookshelf. Yuuji follows his gaze and notices the urn on the top shelf.
"Oh, uhm. I'm sorry for your loss." He tries to keep the disapointment of not getting to play with a cat out of his voice.
"It's fine." Eraserhead says, but with the way he quickly moves on, it's probably not. "The guest room is down there," he gestures to the hallway. "First door on the left, bathroom on the right. I need to go on a grocery run, so tonight we'll probably order in. Tomorrow we can go shopping to get you the essentials."
"Okay. I'm gonna go put my stuff in the guest room and take a shower." Yuuji declares, trying to escape the awkward atmosphere they've stumbled into.
"There's a spare toothbrush and towels under the sink. And extra body wash and shampoo in the shower. When you're done you can decide what you want for dinner." Eraserhead calls after him.
Yuuji nods and makes his way to the spare bedroom. It's predictibly plain, with light blue walls empty of any decoration and twin bed pushed into the corner. There's a desk with a lamp on it up against the window next to it and a small bookshelf on the opposite wall with an empty closet right next to the door.
Yuuji drops his backpack on the bed, unzipping it and digging around for a change of clothes. He pulls out a blue shirt with a graphic of All Might on it and a pair of black basketball shorts before going back out across the hall to the bathroom. He makes sure to lock the door behind him.
He starts the shower. While he waits for the water to get hot, he looks at himself in the mirror. He's met with overgrown pink hair falling into tired brown eyes and a scarred face. He's frowning. Since when did his resting expression become a frown?
Yuuji smiles. His cheeks dimple and his eyes crinkle in the corners, but his too-long canines makes it look more like he's baring his teeth than anything. This brings the memory of the day he realized his teeth were falling out to the forefront of his mind. It was right after the exchange event. He'd been eating dinner and felt his tooth wiggle. He'd thought he was imagining things, but he ran his tongue along his canines and with each day that passed, there'd be more give. It had been nauseating, realizing they were being pushed out by something new, despite him already having all his adult teeth. Sukuna had made fun of him, joking about how his body was accepting Sukuna's presence, shifting to accomodate him natrually. He remembers how he had grown paranoid of Sukuna gaining control, that it was only a matter of time before his will superseded Yuuji's.
He remembers how he'd gotten so sick of the waiting, the uncertainty, the stress, he'd just ripped the bandaid off and pulled the teeth out himself. He'll never forget the look of horror on Fushiguro's face when he'd walked into their shared bathroom in the middle of the night and realized what Yuuji had done to himself. How he'd started acting weird around Yuuji for a few days afterward.
He was disgusted by you.
He blinks a few times, trying to banish the mental image, and focuses on his face again. He smiles a little wider, it's lopsided due to the stiff scar tissue on the corner of his mouth. It's still showing too many teeth. He hates that he can kind of see the resembalance to Kenjaku, so he quickly drops the expression and gets in the shower.
As he stands under the spray of hot water, his mind wanders again. He misses Kugisaki. He misses Fushiguro.
And it's his fault they're gone, isn't it.
He's always been the type to get lonely easily, and he hates being alone with his thoughts like this.
Sometimes Yuuji misses Sukuna. He doesn't miss the taunts and psychological abuse, obviously. And it's not that he doesn't hate him, Yuuji hates Sukuna more than he's ever hated anyone in his life. It's just... it was kind of nice to know that no matter what, he was never truly alone. It feels like Sukuna carved out a place for himself in Yuuji's soul, and now there's just a gaping, empty pit left in his wake.
How can you miss Sukuna after everything he's done you? To Fushiguro? Maybe that's why you couldn't save him. Your heart wasn't in it.
With a wet SLAP Yuuji slams the heel of his palm against the side of his head. "Shut the fuck up!" He hisses to himself as the pain reverberates throughout his skull.
When Yuuji used to get random, unwanted violent, fucked up, self-contemptuous thoughts, he'd assumed it was Sukuna's influence. After all, he didn't have them nearly as often before him. And Sukuna said so many similar things he couldn't really tell what was a thought and what was Sukuna, but now that he's alone, he's beginning to realize it was just him all along.
You were always the real monster.
Yuuji quickly finishes washing his body and turns the water off. He stays in the shower for another moment, shakes his head to get the excess water out of his hair–which doesn't work as well as it usually would due to how much it's grown out–then gets out.
He grabs the aformentioned spare towel out from under the sink and dries himself off, then puts it on the floor and wipes up all the water he dripped onto the tiles.
He pulls the shirt and shorts on and throws the towel in the laundry basket in the corner.
When Yuuji comes back out into the living room, he stops in front of the bookshelf. There's a lot of books, none of which he recognizes, but they look like mostly nonfiction. He wonders what Fushiguro would think. On the top shelf, next to the urn, is a framed photo. It looks to be a teenaged Eraserhead and his friends. There's a boy with cloud-like blue hair in the center grinning, he has his arms around the other two boy's shoulders. Eraserhead is to the left, looking relunctantly fond and awkward in a way that really, painfully, reminds him of Fushiguro, and to the right is beaming a boy with blond hair and sunglasses. Next to the frame is a pair of worn yellow goggles, similar to the ones part of Eraserhead's hero costume. The lenses are cracked.
He resists the urge to pick them up to look at them closer and instead joins Eraserhead in the kitchen.
Yuuji finds him, now in casual clothes, leaning against the island watching the news on the small TV on the counter. It seems to be a recap on Present Mic's arrest of a villain earlier that day. Present Mic looks a lot like that kid in the picture– oh.
"You know him?" Yuuji asks.
Eraserhead angles his head down to look at Yuuji. "We went to school together, why?"
"I was kind of being nosy and found the picture of you guys, sorry."
Eraserhead shrugs. "Well, you live here too now. It'd be irrational if I got mad at you for just looking around. What do you want for dinner?"
"It's been a while since I last had pizza," Yuuji offers. And it really has. He thinks the last time he ate it was right after the exchange event.
Eraserhead nods and pulls out his phone. "Pizza it is then."
They go back and forth on what type of pizza Yuuji likes, which is literally all of them, he's not picky, before Eraserhead orders.
With his phone held to his ear, Eraserhead goes back out into the living and paces as he lists their order, which leaves Yuuji alone in the kitchen with only the TV for company.
He grabs the remote from where it's sitting on the kitchen island, tapping the plastic three times with the tip of his index finger to test it's durability and flips to a random channel. It lands on one playing the All Might cartoon. He zones out watching it for he doesn't know how long before he's startled out of his trance by Eraserhead.
"Big All Might fan?" He asks. Yuuji jumps, spinning around to face him. He must've really been out of it if he lowered his gaurd enough to get snuck up on like this.
"No, not really." Yuuji replies.
"You're wearing his shirt," Eraserhead points out.
"Yeah well, old All Might merch is the easiest thing to come across when you're shopping for secondhand clothes. And honestly, he seems too good to be true. There's no way he's really that…" Yuuji trails off, not sure how to encapsulate all that All Might is, or seems to be.
Eraserhead seems to think about Yuuji's words for a moment before responding. "I've worked with him before. He's dense, a little naive, maybe, but he's a good hero. Even if he gets on my nerves often."
Yuuji gnaws on his lower lip, thinking before he responds. "Even if he isn't a secretly terrible person, the kind of pedastal he's held up on, the expectation that he'll always be there to save the day because he's the strongest, it can't be healthy. Putting everything on one person never is. I mean, he's gotta be at least in his late fourties by now, what is everyone gonna do when he retires? No matter how much it might seem like it, he's not infallible and no one can live forever." As he speaks, Yuuji can't help but compare All Might to Gojo-sensei. And he knows how everything fell apart the moment sensei was gone. It's frustrating how clearly that will repeat here too once All Might is gone. Hopefully he'll have found a way to get home before everything goes to shit again.
Eraserhead is giving Yuuji his full attention now, eyebrows slightly raised. "That's surpisingly jaded of you." He comments.
"Yeah, well it's the truth," He huffs. Then, because it hits him he's just been kind of talking shit about Eraserhead's collleague, "sorry."
"I'm not offended. And you're right," he opens his mouth like he's going to speak again but his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and checks the notifacation. "Pizza's here. I'll be right back," with that, he slides his shoes on and heads down to the lobby.
He's not gone for long. Despite the ridiculous elavator code, Eraserhead is back within a few minutes.
He drops the pizza box on the kitchen island and they sit across from each other on the stools, eating mostly in silence with the TV on in the background.
When Eraserhead is done eating, he pulls out a small notepad and a pen. "While you were in the shower, I started working on a list of things you'll need when we go shopping tomorrow. You can add whatever you want to it, within reason." He slides the notepad across the island towards Yuuji, who picks it up with his non-greasy hand.
It has just about what he'd expected on it. School supplies, clothes, new shoes, a phone–
"Eraserhead, I alr–" He cuts himself off. He already has a phone, but it's a burner and the only number in it is a villain's. "I don't need new shoes." He settles on. Which is also true, he doesn't. His shoes are fine. They might be too small, and held together with duct tape, but his grandfather had gotten them for him. He's not getting rid of them.
Eraserhead's brows furrow. "First of all, I'm off the clock. Call me Aizawa. And second, your shoes are literally falling apart. You can keep them, but I'm getting you new ones."
Well, Yuuji supposes that's fair.
He looks at what's left of the pizza in the box sitting between them. "Are you gonna finish that, or can I have it?" Aizawa shoves the box over to him.
"It's all yours, kid."
As Yuuji finishes up the rest of the pizza, Aizawa seems to think. After a moment he asks, "Do you have any dietary restrictions or requirements, any allergies you know of?"
"No allergies, actually–"
"Please don't speak with your mouth full." Aizawa interrupts.
Yuuji nods and swallows before continuing. "Sorry. No allergies or dietary requirements, but I am immune to anything poisonous. Which means most medication won't work on me." Yuuji's Adhd meds had abruptly stopped working shortly after becoming Sukuna's vessel. He remembers how shitty basically going cold turkey had left him feeling, not an experience he's eager to repeat. Most medication didn't really work on him, anyway. He metabolized things too fast. Looking back on it, he's actually not sure how his grandfather got access to a dosage high enough that it had actually worked on him. "Oh, and I need to eat a lot. Like, my metabolism is faster than average."
Aizawa looks legitimately concerned now. "So, no painkillers or anything, ever? If you needed to be put under for a surgery, the anesthetic wouldn't work?"
Yuuji shrugs and tries to reassure him. "I guess it wouldn't. It's fine though, I'm pretty tough!" He laughs, a little strained. Having a high pain tolerance has never meant anything didn't hurt, it just means he can work through it.
Aizawa doesn't look soothed by this information, actually, he looks more upset now. He opens his mouth then closes it and sighs long and hard through his nose. He turns the TV off.
"It's late. we should head to bed now." He decides.
Yuuji nods, getting up and yawning. "Yeah, I'm beat." He agrees, going along with Aizawa's blatant attempt to change the subject.
"Well, goodnight." Aizawa offers awkwardly before throwing the pizza box away and leaving.
Yuuji stands in the kitchen alone for a moment before turning the lights off and going back to his bedroom.
He closes and locks the door behind him and pulls his photo of Fushiguro and Kugisaki out of the front pocket of his backpack. He runs his thumb back and forth over Kugisaki's grinning face before tucking it under his pillow and climbing into bed.
When Yuuji closes his eyes, he's assaulted with the image of Kugisaki lying lifeless in a pool of her own blood on the subway floor in Shibuya. Half her face destroyed, eye socket empty and exposed.
He blinks then squeezes his eyes shut and shoves his fists up against them, pressing hard until it hurts and multicolored blobs erupt in his vision.
Why are you still alive instead of her? what makes you more deserving of life?
Why is Yuuji, a muderer, here safe and alive instead of Kugisaki?
He rolls on to his side and pulls his hands to his chest, curling into himself. Eventually Yuuji falls into a restless sleep, plagued with the faces of his friend's he failed.