Work Text:
“Do you trust me?”
It was a heavy question to expect a young child to answer, but there was no way to avoid asking it. Both of their futures hung delicately on his answer. A yes would free them from the invisible shackles they wore; a no would condemn them to a life of pure darkness..
From the moment he first laid eyes on Tomura Shigaraki, Kurogiri understood his purpose. It came so naturally to him, like love at first sight. His master needn’t say a word to trigger his guard; he had been brought to his knees instantly. All it took was seconds for him to completely dedicate his life to the boy with red eyes, rubbed raw; to the boy who was constantly in danger.
Anxiety plagued every second from that moment onward, a voice in the back of his mind ceaselessly nagging that his charge was not safe. As opposed to the seconds it took for him to commit himself to Tomura, months passed before he identified the source of the danger as All for One himself. Upon reflection, all of the red flags were evident from the beginning in the way he spoke to Tomura, encouraged his darkest heart, and allowed him to drown in the traumas of his past. The poor child couldn’t give voice to any of them — repression was a powerful tool — but the weight of those grotesque hands provided a sickening kind of comfort in his silence. Tomura worshipped the man who gave them to him as his hero, but Kurogiri knew better. Everything about the relationship between the boy and the villain reeked of grooming and manipulation. As his protector, he could not stand idly by and let this occur.
It went against his very purpose.
Leaving was one of the toughest decisions that Kurogiri had ever made and he hated how much weight it put onto Tomura’s shoulders. To take Kurogiri’s hand and follow his guardian into the unknown was not only the most dangerous thing he could do, but the safest as well. As long as All for One reigned over them, that nagging insecurity would never cease to prod at the back of Kurogiri’s mind. The boy was still too young to understand what it meant, but he didn’t need to understand. All he needed was to answer the question: Do you trust me?
As he pulled the shabby motel sheets higher over the sleeping boy’s body, he couldn’t have been more relieved that the answer was yes.
Kurogiri didn’t sleep that night — how could he when every shadow was All for One? Until their safety was assured, he couldn’t afford to let Tomura out of his sight. Sleeping that night would be anything but restful, anyways. Beyond the need to protect his charge, was the reminder that he had no idea what to do and that was bound to keep him awake. He only had enough cash to cover a handful of nights in this cheap motel and that was without covering their meals. Once his wallet was empty, they had nowhere to go.
The obvious answer was to land a job, but that posed its own challenges. Not only did he not possess any marketable skills, but he lacked any sort of identification/documentation required for hire. Any place that would be willing to ignore that was bound to be questionable. Every step he took from this point forward would be risky; it was simply a matter of which risks he was willing to undertake.
For Tomura Shigaraki, the answer was any.
Ultimately, the task wasn’t as difficult as he’d anticipated. The following day was filled with dragging Tomura through the city as he investigated every HELP WANTED sign encountered. He had expected it to be a full-day affair but was fortunate by the fifth stop. The bar they entered rivaled the motel in terms of shadiness — he didn’t want to know if the stains on the floor were wine or blood — but the promise of tips, regular pay (in cash, no less), and willingness to turn a blind eye to his lack of identity sealed the deal. He’d receive compensation while he trained and the owner even offered to allow Tomura to stay in the office during Kurogiri’s shifts. It was more than he could’ve asked for; almost too good to be true.
For once, Kurogiri was glad to be wrong. The arrangement lasted for years, allowing him to provide without resorting to things like petty thievery. That shoddy motel room became their new home, and every time he got that envelope of cash, he would cover another week’s stay. His quirk was surprisingly useful on the job and made him a skilled bartender able to make drinks faster than any of his colleagues. It also lent a hand to breaking up fights that inevitably occurred when intoxicated lowlifes decided to butt heads — those stains on the floor were definitely blood. It didn’t take long for Kurogiri to become as invaluable to the bar as the bar was to him.
That night wasn’t supposed to be any different than the hundreds of previous ones, but the universe had a tendency to continually throw him off. It started out typically, with Kurogiri behind the bar and Tomura in the office, surrounded by whatever he had decided to bring to entertain himself. While Kurogiri would normally steal a moment to sneak back and check on him, he couldn’t afford it that night. The boy’s eighth birthday was approaching quickly and he wanted to purchase him something nice, so he needed to remain completely attentive in order to squeeze out the best possible tips from his patrons. Tomura would be lonely for the night, but it was a sacrifice they both needed to make, so he ignored how anxiety climbed back up into his throat.
Dismissing his gut had been a mistake.
One could imagine his horror when the time came for the bar to close and Kurogiri went to retrieve his charge only to find the office door gone and the office itself completely empty. Piles of dust littered the space that looked to have gone through a storm and resting on the floor was one of Tomura’s heavier books, fresh blood coating the cover.
Kurogiri’s stomach twisted up in knots, the anxiety he had been ignoring throughout the night surging with a vengeance. This couldn’t be happening; he had been so careful ...
The only thing left in that office was the computer screen, lit up with a digital message that chilled Kurogiri to the bone.
[Kurogiri.
You’ll have to forgive me. There’s a hefty bounty for a kid with a quirk like his and I just can’t resist. Since he’s your kid, you’ll get a cut of the reward. Do me a favor and clean up the mess he made. See you tomorrow.
Best,
Boss]
Boss .
Kurogiri could do nothing but stare, the implications of his surroundings falling into place to create a harrowing idea of what had occurred. It made sense in a sickening fashion; the only way someone could have taken Tomura was if they knew how his quirk worked as well as how to avoid it. Beyond that, only someone he trusted could have gotten close enough to him to touch him without being introduced to his hands. There had obviously been a struggle— Tomura was sharp and could read intentions like a magazine— but that book had spelled an end to it all.
He couldn’t disintegrate an assailant if he was unconscious, after all.
Kurogiri’s mind spun as he warped out of the office, heart pounding between his ears. There was no doubt as to who had put a bounty out for Tomura and if he were to successfully trade him in, then Kurogiri would have failed in his purpose.
At some point during the night, it had rained, making the pavement shiny and slick as he ran. The rain was perfect to wash away any evidence of blood that the darkness might miss, making it all but impossible for him to track them. There was no indication as to when they had left or what direction they might have taken. He had nothing to rely on but his gut, and in a city so saturated with crime, he may as well have gone in blind.
It was better than nothing. If there was one thing he had learned, it was to trust his gut.
He would find Tomura, no matter how many twists, turns, and dead ends he met.
Fortunately, luck was on his side. He wasn’t certain how far from the bar he had ventured in his desperate search, but a familiar voice crying out told him that it was far enough .
“ Damn hero! Hasn’t anyone ever taught you how to mind your own business!?”
Boss. Immediately, Kurogiri turned on his heel, nearly tripping as he skidded down the alleyway towards that voice. The scene he stumbled upon had him freezing in place.
In the center of the alley stood two men, one recognizable as his boss and one that appeared to mirror Kurogiri in age. He didn’t look impressive, his build slim and his dark clothing making him blend into the night, save for his scarf and the gear on his face.
Yellow goggles. For reasons he couldn’t explain, the unusual accessory caught his attention. It seemed so familiar, the origin right on the tip of his tongue, yet entirely out of reach. Once he took in the full situation, however, that funny recognition was the least of his worries.
That would be his boss’s empty arms.
Tomura.
Kurogiri’s stomach dropped like a lead ball. Was he too late? Had the deal already been completed? His panicked gaze darted about the scene before he saw—
“ Tomura Shigaraki!”
When he caught sight of the boy slumped against the wall, head lolled forward and clearly unconscious, the amalgamation of terror and relief that hit him forbade him from biting his tongue like he should have. It didn’t matter that the two men whipped around to look at the intruder who had interrupted their fight for they would have seen him at the boy’s side instantly.
Kneeling beside Tomura, he quickly inspected him for any injuries. The hair on the back of his head was caked in dried blood, but the steady rise and fall of his chest indicated that he was still breathing. Of course his boss hadn’t killed him; Tomura was useless to All for One dead. The fear slowly dissipated as he sighed in relief and pulled him into his arms.
“I am so sorry ,” he professed to deaf ears, the sting of tears building behind his eyes. For a brief moment, the conflict between the other two men slipped his mind only for him to be forcefully reminded of it again as his boss cried out.
“Kurogiri! Don’t be an idiot! Don’t you know how much that boy is worth!?” he snapped, turning his back on the hero to face Kurogiri properly.
Kurogiri held Tomura closer in an attempt to shield him. “I know exactly how much he’s worth,” he replied. “More than any amount of money anyone could offer. It is you who has misjudged his value.”
His boss’s expression twisted into an awful scowl as he lunged forward. “Why you—”
“ That’s enough .” White cloth sprang forward and wrapped around the villain, binding him instantly. A few meters back, the hero tugged on the restraints, long black hair standing on end. Kurogiri’s brow furrowed. Something about that quirk seemed so familiar…
His boss cursed and struggled against the binds to no avail and was promptly ignored by the hero, who addressed Kurogiri instead. “Is that your kid?”
“I am his guardian, yes,” he confirmed. “My employer attacked and stole him while I was working my shift. You have my eternal gratitude.” If it hadn’t been for this hero, there was no telling what might have become of Tomura.
The hero didn’t boast or preen under his praises. “You should get him to a hospital. It looks like he took a pretty bad hit to the head.”
Kurogiri hesitated. Any good guardian wouldn’t delay taking his child to the doctor immediately, but the last thing he needed was the name Tomura Shigaraki floating around a hospital where Dr. Ujiko may overhear.
“Don’t take him away from me!” the villain bellowed. “I won’t let you!” Freeing one of his arms from the binding scarf, he reached for his belt and pulled out—
“ Look out!”
Bang!
A bullet entered the wall perpendicular to its original trajectory, the small portal which had redirected it quickly closing. Though he had been breaking up bar fights for years, this was the first time he had needed to use his quirk to defend himself. Had he not been so overwhelmed, it might have surprised him how naturally it came to him.
Another gate opened under the villain’s feet, sending him sinking through the ground before pinching around his waist. His lower half dangled in the space beside Kurogiri, who carried Tomura in one arm as he stood and snatched the gun out of his boss’ hand.
“You could have hit Tomura,” he scolded. No more of his precious blood would be shed that day; not if Kurogiri had any say in the matter.
He offered the gun to the hero. “You can relax. He won’t be going anywhere. I’ll remain here until the authorities arrive to arrest him.”
After a moment of hesitation, the hero complied, retracting his scarf. True to his word, Kurogiri remained at the scene, keeping the villain imprisoned. If he so desired, he could slice clean through him, but such behavior was hardly appropriate in front of a hero. Besides, that was the kind of cruelty he wanted to shield Tomura from, not promote.
Once the police had taken the villain into custody, Kurogiri made his leave to tend to Tomura’s wounds back in the motel room before a voice bid him to wait.
“Kurogiri, was it?” the hero prompted, lifting those strangely familiar goggles up to rest on his head. Somehow, he looked impossibly more familiar with his full face exposed. Who was he..?
“Yes. Can I help you?”
“You were impressive tonight,” he commented. “You were under immense stress in a high-stakes situation. Most civilians would’ve lost their cool, but you were perfectly composed. You also managed to disarm him in seconds. You seem to know what you’re doing.”
Kurogiri hummed. “I merely responded instinctively. Protecting this boy is my purpose. Besides,” he added, “I’ve had plenty of experience breaking up armed fights at the bar I worked at.”
“Protecting him is your purpose?” the hero pressed. “I don’t normally do this— I don’t think other people’s lives are my business— but I’ve got to ask: have you ever considered being a hero?”
A hero. Kurogiri blinked. The suggestion was laughable. Himself, a hero? Not only was he trying to avoid attention to keep Tomura safe, but he doubted that he had the gumption. Protecting Tomura was one thing, but being selfless enough to make sacrifices for others seemed so far-fetched.
After a moment of silence, he spoke up again. “I can’t say I’ve thought about that before. I’m not certain if it is my calling .”
“You already have some basic offensive and defensive skills and you know how to utilize your quirk well,” the hero pointed out. “ And you didn’t hesitate to act when an innocent was placed in danger. I’d say that it could be your calling if you wanted to pursue it. The pay is good, too,” he continued. “Seeing as you’re out of a job, you might want to consider it. Keeping a kid safe also means providing for him, right?”
Kurogiri tensed. The hero was right. Currently, he couldn’t hope to provide for Tomura, and it was so close to his birthday, too. What a present that would be: Happy birthday, Tomura! We’re homeless!
No, he couldn’t do that to him. Silently, he regarded the unconscious boy in his arms. Becoming a hero would be dangerous and had the potential to draw plenty of unwanted attention, but if it was for the sake of Tomura, he was willing to make any number of sacrifices.
“...Even if I were to consider this, I wouldn’t have the means to follow through with it,” he mused. “We’re currently living out of a motel. I cannot afford to lose income while I train.”
The hero studied them for a moment, sizing them up. “I normally wouldn’t say this, but… If you’d be willing to help with rent once you land a job, I’d be willing to share my space.”
Kurogiri’s eyes widened, equal parts dubious and intrigued by the proposal. “You would trust a stranger you’ve only just met to live with you?”
“I’m a good judge of character,” he replied, as if that rationalized everything. “You don’t strike me as a threat. If anything, you seem like the kind of guy who just needs a push in the right direction.”
Adjusting his grip on Tomura, Kurogiri allowed silence to reign. To move in with a stranger would be foolish, but what other choice did he have? Besides, something deep inside of him insisted that this man was someone he could trust.
“Very well,” Kurogiri replied after an eternity. “And what should I call you?”
The faintest of smiles tugged on the hero’s lips, seeming just unpracticed enough to suggest that the expression was rare.
“Call me Aizawa.”
“ Wait up! ”
At the sound of that voice, he stopped in his tracks. Up at the top of the city, above the busy streets and sidewalks, he found it easiest to work. It made him feel untouchable.
Turning towards the source of the cry, Warp Hero: Vortex chuckled warmly. “Having trouble keeping up?”
Tomura stopped a short distance away from him, cheeks flushed and panting. This was the first time that Kurogiri had seen him fully decked out in his hero costume and it made him proud. Had someone told him years ago that accepting Aizawa’s offer would spark new ambition in Tomura, he wouldn’t have hesitated to accept.
Placing a gloved hand on his chest, Tomura frowned at his guardian. “It’s not fair! You keep warping around. The least you could do is take me with you!”
“Don’t tell me you’re tired already. We’ve only just started our patrol,” Kurogiri commented. “Don’t tell me that Eraser has been going easy on you during training.”
“Of course not,” Tomura shot back. “Most of our training doesn’t entail leaping between buildings , though.”
Vortex shrugged. “You know what my patrols entail. If you wanted something easier, perhaps you should have accepted an internship with another hero.”
Tomura’s pouted slightly. “You know that wasn’t an option.”
Just hearing that made Kurogiri’s heart soar . Over the years, he had watched Tomura’s dormant appreciation for heroes blossom, fanned by his guardian’s own career choice, so he knew that he was admired, but hearing it made all of the difference.
“I suppose I could take pity on you on your first day,” he relented. Opening up a warp gate to the next rooftop, he gestured for him to follow. “Come on, then, Entropy . Let’s keep going. There’s no time to waste loitering on a single rooftop.”
As he watched Tomura— Entropy — slip through his gate, he smiled. Ultimately, everything he had done led to this moment; to seeing Tomura safe, secure, and happy. Training to be a hero— Just like you, Kurogiri!— had given him the kind of vitality he had feared All for One would drain from him.
As far as he was concerned, his purpose had been fulfilled.