Chapter Text
Emi could only remember turning to a brief flash of headlights before she awoke to pitter patter of rain and the harsh concrete of the sidewalk against her teeth. Nothing was between the bright lights and laying face down on pavement. She lay there motionless for a moment, trying to fill the blank memory as the rain and concrete flooded her senses. Slowly, she lifted her face off the slick stone, tasting remnants of rock and blood as she crept out of her stupor.
A wave of haze washed through her as she put a hand to her jaw, making sure she still had all her teeth. She pushed herself up, feeling an uncomfortable tightness in her chest as she knelt and spat out the metallic taste that pooled in her mouth.
Whiplash made itself known as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Dizzily placing a hand to the back of her head in response to the strain—feeling around, she couldn’t tell if what she felt was blood or the water that flooded the streets; or both. Her thoughts drifted away from pain and back to what she had seen before coming to.
Of course, she was hit by a damn car.
Whoever had knocked her out cold wasted no time to bail—that or she was out longer than she thought. Emi wondered if they had even bothered to check who or what they had even clobbered. Whoever was driving must’ve been drowning in booze.
Good news was, she could still move. Nothing seemed to be broken. Only a scrambled brain, bleeding mouth, scrapes and bruises, from what she could tell. Mustering what strength she had, she got to her feet. She looked up and down the street for anybody, only to feel that she was the only living thing in the world.
Nobody. Not even a car drove down the street.
Hopelessness settled as Emi remembered how late it was. The very first hours of a new day, and still pitch black outside. She supposed not everyone is awake to witness somebody get hit by a car.
Her mind churned with haziness and frustration as she hobbled off. Cursing under her breath as she gracelessly strode down the street she had mindlessly chosen to follow.
The dirty water that flooded the street soaked into her shoes as she struggled to think of any way to get home. Walking was not an option—she couldn’t walk home like this. At least right now she couldn’t. She wondered if she could crash at someone’s place until morning. Then, hopefully, she’d feel a bit better. Just scrapes, bruises, drops of blood and a headache that would certainly subside with some shuteye, she assured.
Emi scrunched her nose as she thought from family member to another, friend to friend. In a moment, she halted her aimless trek to nowhere as she remembered him:
Eraser.
It had been forever since she’d seen him or had made an effort to see him. She used to drop by with dumb gags and proposals, only for him to let them all roll right off is back: as she had always anticipated. She pestered him with these every so often. Often times he never even answered his door; knowing who was on the other side. Leaving her to come back another day.
Emi stood still in her tracks, knowing that going to him was a terrible idea, and the only one. Unless the sad sack had moved, he was definitely settled around here. She eyed around for a street sign, squinting to read once she pinned it. She reached to her pocket and pulled her phone out, only tearing her eyes from the street sign to look to her phone as she turned it on and opened her contact list.
Hunched over, she hastily scrolled to find “Eraserhead”. Once found, she stared at the address written then doubled checked the street sign. Just as she thought, the loner was close by. She stuffed her phone back into her pocket, and walked down to the corner and turned.
She prayed that he would have the heart to help her. Praying even through only seeing clumps the street and its buildings through the smears of rain and dizziness in her eyes. She staggered and splashed down the sidewalk, and the sidewalk after that. Once she reached the corner of the next street, she fished out her phone to check his address again. She squinted to the street sign, and back to her phone. Promising there was only so far left to go as she put her phone away and crossed the street.
The map the had drawn in her head was smudged and torn. Still, she continued her path bunglingly. The trip passed in a blur as she hobbled street after the other.
Miraculously, she had remembered what corner to turn. Managing to put one foot in front of the other. The vague recollections of the streets she had passed through blended into one clouded, lost memory as she staggered forward.
Through the ringing in her head and blindness, her mind only think to Eraser. Any other thoughts that went through her mind trailed back to Aizawa. A thought came, and back to him again. Came and went, ending in the same place. That killjoy was her only shot, and it was an unlikely one. The fact plagued her mind.
The remainder of the last block to the complex stretched itself agonizingly long. Once she reached the building, she managed to wobble along the building’s walls to find the entrance—swearing she was fine, just shaken up the entire search.
The sound of pouring rain became distant and shallow once she scurried inside. The lobby had an uneasy silence and calm compared to the downpour she had just escaped. She thanked the Lord that there was no security or any bystanders in the lobby the moment she arrived. Knowing full well she looked washed out and rugged from the accident and rain. She would have been quite the sight.
Wasting no time to dawdle in the newly found peace, she limped to the stairwell. Her shoes squelched as she staggered through the hallway. Swinging open the door to the stairwell, she started up the stairs. Promising everything was going to be all right as curses and regret clashed her hopeful thoughts. Gripping the hand railing the entire climb and finally hauling herself up the last steps, she stumbled through the staircase exit. She walked and walked down the corridors that followed out of the stairwell, looking for Eraser’s room number.
256, she managed to remember.
She hastily looked door to door, only giving quick glances to their numbers. Double-taking once she had seen the number she wanted. She stood in front of his door, preparing herself to put on the usual happy-go-lucky facade she usually wore. A tinge of sadness settled in the pit of her stomach, knowing deep down that doing this would only provoke him.
Burying the feeling, she knocked on the door. She knew the sluggard was asleep, as always. That in mind, Emi waited to add another barrage of knocks. She waited, she knocked again. She waited, she knocked again.
Her ruthless pounds at the door persisted until she heard a faint sound from the other side. Followed with the sound of locks coming undone. At that moment, Emi made sure to perk her lips into a smile. She had a smile plastered on her face as the door flung open, and as a familiar, slouched figure peered out from the doorway. His posture only lowered upon seeing her. Her smile widened.
“Joke.”
“Hubby.” She grinned.
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her head to toe. Taking in the stringy hair, scraped face, drenched clothes, and that dopey, toothy, oddly bloodied, grin.
“To think you called me out on going around looking like a wreck,” He commented. “You better have a good reason to be here.”
Emi sighed, her smile relaxed. “Now, is that any way to talk to your significant other?” She said smugly. Aizawa sneered in response.
“Ask nicely.” She finished sweetly. Aizawa stayed in place, saying nothing. A moment of silence passed until he started to push the door closed. Emi flung herself forward in a panic and pushed the door open. “Okay, okay!” She stammered.
She paused, looking for the words to say in her aching skull. “Look, I’m in no shape to go on a long walk home.” She uttered as she hung her head.
“I’ll say.”
“Really.” She insisted.
“And you want me to just let you crash here?” He asked flatly.
“I need to.” She swallowed, and looked up at him. “Please.”
She watched him stare back with what she could only assume was contemplation.
Still, he said nothing.
The silence strangled Emi as she waited for him to say anything; do anything. Praying to God that he’d do this. Just this once.
The moment passed at a snail’s pace as she continued to suffocate.
As if godsent, he finally stepped back and ushered her inside. She finally breathed. Whispering a ’thanks’ as she stepped inside the new and unfamiliar place. Both overjoyed and relieved as she thought:
‘Finally.’
Of course he wouldn’t let her inside under any normal circumstances—she knew this.
Both of them knew what would happen: she would have spat her tasteless jokes and battered him with cheesy pick-up lines. Just like she did all those times before. Just like she did right outside his door. Just like she did any time they spoke.
Her relief and childish excitement sank not long after she heard the door shut and the locks refasten. A fever washed over her head and the taste of copper rose in the back of her throat.
“Eraser.” She blurted. “Where’s your bathroom?” She asked between gulps, trying to delay the inevitable. The vexed look he shot her faltered once he saw her now clammy and pale face.
“Over there.” He pointed. Emi whipped around to the hallway Aizawa had pointed to and covered her mouth as she made a mad dash to the bathroom. Slinging the door open and barely able to open the toilet lid before hurling.
Everything turned into an all-too-familiar blur as she vomited. Through the haze and bitter taste, she could feel her ribs tighten with every heave. Painfully retching until nothing came out.
The soreness in her ribs continued to throb as her mouth burned. Recovering from her nausea, she thought that, just maybe, she wasn’t as OK as she thought. She stayed hunched over the bowl in fear that it wasn’t quite over just yet; paying no mind to the footsteps that approached.
“Feeling better?” She heard him jab.
Emi looked up from the bowl and looked to the sound; seeing that he had poked his head into the room. Drool and vomit dripped from her chin as she gave him a half-lidded stare. “Very funny, Eraser.” She smiled out of spite.
She turned back away from him, flushed the toilet, and wiped the vomit off her face with the back of her hand, adding to the now dried, blood she had wiped off after the accident.
“I’m impressed you managed to get here,” He admitted. “All things considered.”
She couldn’t help but scoff and shake her head. Murmuring something under her breath as she tried to stand, gripping the edge of the sink to steady herself.
“The hell happened you?” He finally asked.
Emi shrugged lifelessly. “I’ll tell ya later. Don’t worry about it.” She said dismissively. She figured that wouldn’t satisfy him, but, to her surprise, he went mute once again. Emi joined his silence as she turned on the faucet. Aizawa stood idly, absently watching Emi as she scrubbed her hands and rinsed her mouth.
Seconds seemed to drag into minutes as the water ran, washed, and drained.
“The couch is yours.” He finally said, tearing from his trance and ending the mutual silence. Emi looked back to where he stood only to see that he had already left. “Goin’ back to sleep, huh, Babe?” She called.
‘Yes’ was all he responded with before he closed his bedroom door behind him.