Archive of Our Own

Being a hero student was hard work, even Izuku knew that.

Still, one did not expect to have to study more general subjects after entering U.A. The boy did not mind though, he wasn’t too bad at those subjects either. Plus, it gave him an excuse to visit one of his favorite places.

There was a library near the school.

It was filled to the brim with anything and everything someone seeking knowledge, or just entertainment, could need. He’d come there often to read about the heroes of the old, of those in other countries, and of course, anything relating to his idol, All Might. Sometimes his classmates would come there too, to study. Even Kacchan tended to remain quieter and not make a fuss like he normally would when getting irritated about Kirishima not understanding something.

It was not just because it was a library though.

There was a person in this place, a person that had always piqued Izuku’s curiosity.

A librarian not quite like the others.

It was not anything specific per say; one could easily assume the young man was just another person looking through the shelves for stuff to read.

Someone less interested in people; libraries attracted that type a lot.

Except, he wasn’t a visitor; he worked there.

Stepping inside, Izuku looks around, searching for the right aisle; he needed to find something regarding to their history group-project with Uraraka, Tsuyu and Iida, but the other three were too busy right now, so he’d come by himself for today. They’d join him later, but he might as well do some ground work. Shoto and Momo were there too, working on their own project, waving at him as a greeting but otherwise remaining mostly quiet. Aoyama was part of their group too, but he had to attend some sort of family meeting so he wasn’t there.

Disappearing in between the shelves, Izuku searches through the walls of knowledge, hoping to catch a glimpse of something he could perhaps find information on. A lot of people preferred to get their knowledge online, but the green teen still enjoyed going to the library and read from an old fashioned book.

He’d seen Aizawa-Sensei here too a few times, just relaxing in the reading lounge.

Eventually the boy stops, looking up at the shelves.

This was the spot he was likely to find the required information on, but it was still hard to tell exactly where to begin.

Stealthy like he always was, Izuku did not notice the librarian, until he was right there, standing behind him. He jumped each time it happened, not expecting to see the pale figure overshadowing him as he turned.

”You’re really good at that still, huh.”

The boy tells him with a smile, telling his heart to stop racing.

Red eyes just examine him quietly for a few seconds, before pale hand reaches out, up above him, pulling out a book with careful fingers. He drops it on Izuku’s lap wordlessly, before stalking away as silently as he appeared. The teen only knew his surname, having heard the misty head-librarian utter it out a few times when calling for him.

Shigaraki rarely really spoke to him, or anyone, but he somehow always seemed to know what they were looking for.

Izuku could be guaranteed the book in his hand was the one he needed.

Perhaps it was a quirk of some sort.

Walking to the nearest table, Izuku opens the book and digs out his notebook and pencil to make notes. It would be nicer if his friends were there, but they couldn’t really help being busy with family matters right now.

Izuku sinks into his note-taking zone, trying his best not to mutter out loud - at least not too loudly - as that could end up bothering others near him. Plus last time he’d done that, Shigaraki had stalked behind him and basically stared at him until he stopped.

His piercing gaze was kind of infamous in this place; everybody who entered knew that if he gave you that look, you were being bothersome.

Izuku had heard he had physically dragged some noise-makers out from the library, though he’d never seen it himself, so it could just be a rumor.

Focusing back on his notes, green eyes zoom across the text, searching for whatever he beeded, occasionally making notes. Over an hour passed, and Izuku barely manages to wave goodbye to Todoroki and Momo as they leave, too focused on what he was doing.

More time passes, and a shadow appears beside him again. Izuku looks up, finding Shigaraki beside him again.

He was holding a plastic cup from the cafeteria, placing it beside him. It was probably the same hot cocoa he always ordered if he went there.

”Don’t spill it all over the place.”

 The pale young man tells him simply, before skulking away again.

Izuku watches after him with an awkward smile, then pics up the cup carefully. Shigaraki had begun to do this after he’d passed out from dehydration during a hot day last summer while being there. Izuku just hadn’t noticed how hot it was, he’d been too into reading about All Might’s adventures back in the states. Sure since he knew All Might personally by then - he was going through his second year at U.A currently - he could’ve just asked the man, but Izuku just felt too shy to do so, and also preferred to read about it like this instead.

After that fiasco where his mum had to be called, and he’d been carried to the reading lounge couch to get away from the scorching sunlight, Shigaraki had begun to make sure he remembered to drink every now and then. It was a nice gesture, though it still made the boy feel a little awkward; he couldn’t stop but feel he was under special treatment, especially since according to the girl working in the cafeteria Shigaraki didn’t really do that with anyone else regularly.

 He was too shy to ask him to stop.

Hours pass-by as he reads, writes, and sips his hot chocolate, up until his phone buzzes in his pocket. It was a message from his mum, reminding him to come home to dinner.

Green eyes widen as he notices the time, and quickly packs up his things and brings the empty cocoa cup to the trash, heading towards the exit. He could still make the nearest train if he ran for it; the next one wouldn’t leave until thirty minutes later.

Unfortunately, as often was the case when one rushed, he ends up stumbling to his feet, landing to the floor almost face-first. The sudden thumping sound his fall caused made people nearby to turn and look at him, but they eventually went back to reading after seeing him sit up slowly, seemingly alright.

Izuku rubs his nose for a bit as it hurt, but at least the fall hadn’t been bad enough to make him bleed or anything. He’d had enough of that during practical training at school.

As he gets up to his feet and dusts himself off, Izuku notes Shigaraki was looking at him from the shadow of the bookshelves.

He was always watching him if he was around, or so it felt, given each time Izuku looked around, he’d be there.

Looking at him.

It was weird and a bit scary at first, making him wonder if he’d done something wrong. He’d spoken with the head-librarian however, and the mist-formed man had reassured him that it was just a coincidence; Shigaraki tended to keep an eye on all hero-students out of habit, given they had a rather...energetic reputation, something that didn’t really fit inside a library setting.

 Izuku wasn’t quite sure if he bought it; the only other classmate he knew of that had noticed this same behavior from the quiet pale young man was Todoroki.

The green teen shakes his head and heads out; what Kurogiri-san had said was likely true.

Shigaraki was just...naturally intimidating given his appearance, mannerism and voice, so he made you second-guess his motivations.

So far, he hadn’t tried to throw Izuku out from the library ever, so it was probably okay.

Red eyes watch him as he leaves, all the way till he disappears from sight.

Aizawa was a simple man in some aspects; he preferred peace and quiet over large crowds of people. He especially preferred it after a day of dealing with twenty Heroes-in-training-kids he’d somehow gotten stuck with. Well, he'd done so by choice, but still. 

He could always go home and rest there, Hizashi knew to keep quiet during the worst days.

Sometimes though, the library was a good option.

People genuinely would leave him alone.

Even if his students showed up there occasionally, they would not bother him with questions.

It was always a bit of an interesting place, not just with all the good books you could read.

When he’d first seen the young man, his instincts had gone to an edge.

There was something peculiar about Shigaraki, that he could not put his finger on. Initially, he’d kept coming back out of suspicion; something was up.

Yet, each time he left, he had no answers.

Shigaraki looked like somebody who’d seen things.

Things he preferred not to talk about.

Someone so young, but with endless weight in his red eyes.

Overtime, he’d just stopped trying to figure the boy out. He kept coming there however, for it was a nice, quiet place to relax.

Aizawa lifts his gaze from the book talking about different types of felines, eyes immediately spotting the pale figure from across the room, on the other side of the glass-wall separating the reading lounge from the rest of the place. He was carrying a few books, probably to place them on their rightful place.

Even if he’d stopped trying to solve the puzzle that was this peculiar young man, Aizawa still kept an eye on him. He wore his usual dark hoodie, hair tied up to a messy ponytail. Red eyes looked tired, they always did.

He’d seen things, but didn’t want to talk about it.

The figure disappears among the rows of shelves, and Aizawa turns his gaze back to his book. Reading few lines forward, he could feel eyes on him. Looking up, the boy was now watching him. He always did when Aizawa was there.

There was always a moment he’d stop whatever he was doing, and watch him.

Their eyes met, red staring into black.

Just like each time before this, there was strange amusement in that sharp gaze. Almost if the boy found his observing funny for whatever reason. Almost if he knew Aizawa was trying to figure him out, and kept failing at it, over and over again.

Eventually, Shigaraki turns his gaze away, heading somewhere else in the library.

Aizawa turns his attention back to his book, shifting in his chair as he turns a page. He’d have to head out soon, Hizashi was waiting for him at home; he said he wanted to talk about something once his radio-show was done. Minutes tick by in silence, until the glass door to the lounge opens. The steps are stealthy, but he still hears them. The pro-hero looks up, finding the elusive librarian standing beside him now. The dry lips twist into a slight amused grin, his voice was raspy as always.

”Learned something interesting, hero?”

Aizawa had initially been taken aback by the fact the boy knew he was a hero. Then he’d quickly deduced that the librarian must’ve known because he’d seen the hero-students sometimes talk to him, calling him ’Sensei.’

 He was an underground hero, but anyone from U.A calling a person their teacher was a pretty good identification of someone’s hero status.

”You could say so. How about you?”

 ”There’s a loud cockatoo at the front desk, asking about you.”

Ah.

So Hizashi had ended early to come and pick him up. Or he was late from home, latter was more likely. Aizawa sighs and closes the book, getting up slowly. He brings the book to the counter to borrow it, gaining an enthusiastic though subdued greeting from his partner.

As the two leave, Aizawa could feel Shigaraki’s gaze on him.

He was a peculiar young man.

Spinner was not an avid reader, but he enjoyed a good audio-book or two. The library had plenty of those. Usually he’d either borrow a few, or listen to them there, while he studied or sometimes even knitted. It was weird for people at first to see him do it, hence he normally didn’t like admitting it or doing it in public spaces, but people in this library paid no mind.

It was like an unsaid rule in the place; don’t be a bother, or you’ll regret it.

Of course, it was a general societal expectation to not be noisy in a library, but this place was a bit special; one of the librarians was known to take matters into extremes if someone broke the rule.

Or so they said.

Spinner had never really seen it himself.

All he knew, was that Shigaraki’s gaze could be really scary.

You did not want to return your book late, you’d get the infamous state as a response. It was so intimidating that apparently even the snobbiest, most entitled book-snobs or whatever faltered under it.

Yet....Spinner couldn’t stop but feel the Librarian was lonely. It had to be lonely when people avoided you out of intimidation. He couldn’t be sure if it was on purpose. It felt more like Shigaraki just happened to have those vibes naturally, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t stop but feel sad if that was the case; he knew how it was to not have friends.

Shigaraki rarely paid attention to him, though Spinner had caught a glimpse of him observing him when he was knitting something. His expression could be hard to read, but Spinner was fairly certain it had curiosity in it.

Today though, Shigaraki was bound to pay attention to him.

He’d forgotten an audio-book he’d borrowed; it had slipped behind his bad unnoticed, and was a week late as a result. He’d almost wanted to throw the thing it the trash and pretend it never existed, but deep down Spinner knew he had to return it. Perhaps he’d now find out if those rumors were true.

 Walking to the return counter, Spinner digs out the audio-book cautiously. Shigaraki was watching him with the usual calm demeanor, taking it with careful fingers and checking through the computer, likely to see when it was borrowed. It was just basic protocol, but it still made him nervous.

Shigaraki had really long fingers.

They also had scars in them, making Spinner wonder how he’d received those. Librarian’s job wasn’t usually that exciting.

They were probably older than that.

”Care to explain why this is a week late?”

 The raspy voice was calm as ever, but it still made Spinner jump, and he rubs his head awkwardly, averting his gaze.

 ”You don’t usually return shit late.”

 Shigaraki points out, which surprises the reptilian mutant a little bit; he’d not expected the librarian to pay enough attention to him to know this fact.

 ”I observe people a lot. Plus I can see your borrowing record.”

 The pale figure tells him flatly, though Spinner could’ve almost sworn there was a hint of amusement in his expression.

 ”Yeah, I’m sorry about that; I uh...had a rough month so I...forgot about it.”

 Shigaraki just hums as he puts the audio-book away, to the pile of returned things he or the head-librarian would sort into their rightful places later. He turns back to Spinner, typing something on the computer again.

”You’re lucky a week late return doesn’t warrant any payment yet. Just a day longer and I’d demand your wallet.”

 ”Haha, I guess that was lucky...”

 Shigaraki hums, glancing towards him.

 ”I think Kurogiri should change that policy, but I’m technically not the boss inside these walls.”

 ”Yeah, uh...I guess if more and more people start returning stuff week late, I guess you should change it.”

It felt weird, chatting with Shigaraki like this. They’d never really spoken before this. The pale librarian clicks away from the records, before turning to look at Spinner properly, crossing his arms.

”I’ll let you off the hook for now, but if you return something late again, you’ll owe me.”

 Spinner blinks, noting there was a hint of playfulness in his voice.

 ”I swear, if you bring those in late again, I’ll force you to make me a scarf since you like knitting so much.”

He was more than confused by those words at first, namely given the tone was very playful, indicating it wasn’t a serious threat or anything. The hint of a smile was also pretty good clue this was something said in jest. Though...it was also an oddly specific thing to say, and Spinner wondered if he was picking up on clues correctly. He was being offered a chance all of a sudden, a chance he had not expected to ever get. Spinner just hoped he understood it right.

”I’ll...I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”

Next time he comes to the library, Spinner has a freshly made scarf with him. Shigaraki seemed amused, but also pleased.

He'd understood those words right it seems. 

Dabi was not a reader.

Not after leaving his old life behind. He’d had enough of reading back then, being forced to study endlessly.

Yet, he found himself in this library more often than you’d assume. He was not there for the books though; there was something far more interesting to observe. Something...or should he say someone. He’d heard rumors only, none of it could be confirmed. Yet they’d been enough to pique his interest. Dabi had eventually found what he was looking for, and had been quite surprised to discover he found it from a place as ordinary as this.

Most would take him as just your average elusive youth who minded his own business.

Having lived on the streets, the rougher parts of the city, Dabi could see what others didn’t.

Shigaraki was no ordinary young man, but pretended to be.

Slipping between the rows of shelves, glowing blue eyes search for his target.

It was very late, the library would close soon. He preferred to come there late, for there were less people, and he didn’t have to risk running into some he knew. Finally, he spots a familiar figure standing further away, back turned to him. He was putting returned books back in their places. Dabi creeps behind him, his steps not making a single sound.

”You’re later than normal.”

Was he surprised Shigaraki noticed him anyway?

Not really, he had not managed to sneak up on him even once, yet.

He’d keep trying.

Dabi chuckles for a bit, snatching the book from his hand to look through it. Red eyes glance him over his shoulder, but Shigaraki just continues putting the rest of them in place. It was some art-related stuff, not very interesting, so he eventually hands the book back, watching as delicate fingers push it in place. He was one of the very few who knew what those hands alone could do.

”Did you want something, or are you still playing that childish game where you try to catch me off-guard?”

 Shigaraki asks calmly as he starts pushing the now empty cart away, Dabi following him with lazy slouch, his steps echoing somewhat across the mostly empty library.

 ”I’m not givin’ up till I do it. I wanna know how you look like when startled.”

Shigaraki snorts, slipping the cart in its usual resting spot, before finally turning to face him. Red eyes were filled with the usual annoyance as they often were when facing him. Dabi was not concerned about it, despite knowing things others didn’t.

”You sure have strange ways to entertain yourself.”

 Dabi’s face turns onto a rogue grin, stretching the burned skin across his face. He could look menacing too with ease, but his appearance never unnerved Shigaraki.

How could it, really?

How could someone with the powers of a literal demon of the old be intimidated by anything?

 ”You like to play hard to get. You know t’s a turn on fer me.”

 ”I thought lack of self-preservation was your fetish.”

His rough laugh echoes in the library walls for a bit, eventually growing quiet as his amusement settles down. Dabi takes a step closer, and Shigaraki shifts back, his back eventually resting against a wall behind him, hands still crossed over his chest. It was not out of intimidation, they’d done this song and dance before.

Like said; Shigaraki just liked to play hard to get.

”Well I certainly haven’t crossed that threshold yet, given m’ still not a pile of dust on the ground.”

 ”It’s cute of you to assume I’d waste my power on you. Any of them.”

 Dabi hums, lifting his hand up to place it above his head. Red eyes were half-lidded, watching his every move keenly despite Shigaraki’s relaxed posture.

When he’d first met him, he had not been fueled by just curiosity. Shigaraki was right, his sense of self-preservation was not the greatest. His motivation on finding the rumored person had been fueled by darker reasons initially, self-destructive reasons. He’d been edging him on, trying to ignite the danger that the pale figure harbored within him, hoping to catch a glimpse of the terror only he seemed to be aware of.

Instead of burning down the broken fragments that made his being, Shigaraki had sat down and gathered them together, metaphorically speaking.

You’re too young to drop dead. I’m too tired to grant you that.

Just let me keep you up for now.

He’s close, just an inch away from the pale face, bringing a hand up to play with the canvas wrapped around his neck.

”Where’d you get that?”

”A regular forgot to return something on time so he made it for me.”

”One of the old grandmas or something?”

”Nah. The mutant who listens to the audio-stuff.”

Dabi frowns a little at that, but silences the seed of jealousy taking root in his brain. He was not that important, he knew better than to assume he was special to someone like Shigaraki.

He’d just been lucky to be graced with mercy, or that’s what he told himself.

The librarian was a peculiar person in many ways.

”Will you stop eye-fucking me for a second? I need to close the place up; Kurogiri already went upstairs for the day.”

 Dabi lifts his gaze up into the red eyes, noting there was amusement in them.

 ”I can go a step further tonight if you want.”

 Shigaraki snorts at him, rolling his eyes. It was a reaction he’d expected, and Dabi shifts away as the librarian moves from the wall, turning to head and lock the doors. It doesn’t take long, and he’s soon back, standing in front of Dabi with that same amusement dancing in the crimson red eyes.

”Am I right to assume you’ll stalk me home again.”

 ”I wouldn’t call it stalking if you know I’m there.”

Shigaraki examines him for a moment, the sharp red gaze sending a chill down his spine. Finally, the librarian walks past him wordlessly, heading for the back room where the staff stored their things. Dabi follows him, since the front door was locked. He knew from the moment Shigaraki did that, that he was allowed to follow him home for tonight. Had he first gathered his things and then gone to lock the main entrance, Dabi would’ve known he was rejected for the time being.

It was becoming rarer overtime.

 Stepping out through the back-door, Shigaraki breathes in and out deeply for a bit, gazing up into the skies. Blue eyes mainly stay on him, examining the pale silhouette and the calm expression on the scarred face.

Shigaraki starts walking, wordlessly, knowing he’d follow.

He spent that night in a less lonely place, pale fingers tracing his scarring as he pretended to sleep.

Mon-chan was very energetic, happy dog.

Really, why wouldn’t he be happy?

His Master gave him treats and belly rubs almost daily, took him for walkies and let him cuddle against his Master on the couch. He was even allowed to sleep on the bed beside his Master.

Master was always happy to see him, greeting him with a smile and an ear scratch or a belly rub.

But Master wasn’t always happy.

Some nights he didn’t sleep, just sat there on the bed. Mon-chan would then jump there and cuddle against him, allowing his Master to hide his face against his fur. Sometimes he cried, other times he was silent.

Sometimes his Master was mad.

Mon-chan stayed away then, knowing Master didn’t want him around when he was mad.

Sometimes Mon-chan watched as Master took a sharp knife, poking the weird human paw sitting on his desk at a room. Sometimes he poked it so hard the knife went through and got stuck. Sometimes he laughed, but he didn't smell happy when he did. It was not a happy laugh.

Mon-chan hid under the bed then, until his Master no longer smelt like anger. When Master came to look for him afterwards, he’d smell like dog-treats and calm. That’ when the Dog knew it would be safe to come out. He’d get treats and ear-scratches, sometimes a hug.

Master was always so nice to him, even when he was mad or sad. He spoke to Mon-chan too, though the dog didn’t quite understand him. He could understand what mood his Master was from his voice though. He could also smell it of course, Mon-chan was a dog.

Master had few friends.

There was the weird cloud man, who did not have exact form. Mon-chan didn’t really like him, he smelt weird and looked weird. He preferred to hide under the bed when he was there. Master liked him though, he seemed relaxed with him around, so it was probably okay.

He was no threat to the Master.

There was that big human, who also smelt like a lizard for some reason. He seemed nice too, and Mon-chan could tell Master was fond of him. The big human never pet Mon-chan for some reason, not unless he went and made him do it.

Mon-chan wondered why that was.

Did the big human not like him?

He did not smell like that, and he did bring him treats and everything.

Master would not let humans who did not like Mon-chan near him.

Maybe the big funny smelling human was just shy.

There was a smaller human that Mon-chan liked a lot. A happy human who had a biiig smile. His hair looked like a bush. it didn't smell like a bush though, so it was probably head-fur like what majority of humans had. Same stuff his Master had, though his head-fur was longer and lighter colored. At least it looked lighter to Mon-chan, he was a dog. He couldn't see color. 

The small human took Mon-chan for walkies if Master couldn’t.

He gave good belly-rubs too.

Master liked the small human a lot, Mon-chan could tell.

He always smelt happy when the small human was around.

There was also the man who smelt like ash.

Mon-chan didn’t know what to think.

He’d been suspicious at first, sniffing and looking the human cautiously.

Why did he smell like ash so much?

Why did he smell like hurt?

Master was not alarmed though, so he wasn’t a threat.

Master did seem upset with him at times, Mon-chan had seen them argue.

He made Master sad, but also happy.

Mon-chan was confused about it.

The ash man did give nice, warm belly rubs though.

Right now, Mon-chan was sleeping on the bed, cuddled up against his Master’s belly.

Master curled up more around Mon-chan in his sleep, and it made Mon-chan happy.

It was nice to know Mon-chan was important to Master.

Also he gave nice belly-rubs.