Work Text:
Luna choked on her breath, the pain in her chest nearly too much to bare. She didn’t know if it was the fact that half her rib cage was broken or if it was the phantom pain that lingered even after the battle came to its completion. There was still too much to do and if it wasn’t for Aizawa stubbornly pushing her into a cot to be healed, she would’ve still been on the field assisting her classmates.
The war between One for All and All for One had been ended with Deku being the catalyst that ripped the blood-soaked blindfold from Shigaraki’s eyes, opening them to a new world, one that didn’t have death peaking around every corner.
He promised Shigaraki a kinder time, filled with hope and rainbows and all the little good things and he believed him, dismantling his troupes and surrendering himself over. The relief sunk into the bones of the war-torn children but they couldn’t bring themselves to celebrate. Did they even have the right? In front of the bodies of their fallen comrades, when one of their own wasn’t there to celebrate with them, a bloodied glove being left behind in her place? (She couldn’t bring herself to accept the glove when it was passed along, ignoring the looks her pack gave her.)
Class 1-A looked to Deku, who was helping Shigaraki down from his man-made mantle, and decided that no, they didn’t have this right, that this peace was temporary, but this was the class who knocked on death’s door and demanded entry. So, they pushed forward, as they always did.
______________________________________________________________________________
Luna clenched her fists. She couldn’t believe the bullshit pouring out of Vlad King's mouth. Did he not think she couldn’t hear him; she was right on the other side of the Aizawa’s office for fuck’s sake. It took everything in her not to knock his teeth out and a quick glance at her teacher showed that his gaze had fallen to his shoes. The eerily blank expression on his face was enough to have her standing to her feet and forcing her way between the blood hero and her teacher.
She ignored the near-silent call of her name from her teacher as she body-checked Vlad out of his space. Snarling, she watched the man get to his feet and toss her an incredulous look. Who was he to call Hagakure a traitor? To say such a thing in front of the man still grieving over his former friend and student.
Disgusting.
“Hagakure wasn’t a traitor,” Luna growled. “She wasn’t. I would’ve been able to tell. What right do you have to walk in here like you own the place and accuse Aizawa-Sensei of harboring a traitor?” She could feel her eyes burn but she refused to cry, to allow Vlad King to see her falling at the seams. She couldn’t allow herself a moment of weakness. She wouldn’t.
She had to be a pillar for the others. (When was the last time she actually slept?) Since the beginning, Deku had been a ray of light, a beacon of hope. By his side, everyone felt their strongest. That damn smile of, his stubbornly heroic persona, all gone in a single night. Leaving nothing behind except meaningless words written on fraying parchment and a gaping hole in hearts already squeezed dry. Class 1-A never felt the loss so deeply until their hands quivered under the weight of smeared ink and their eyes glazed over as they continued the start of the new year with two empty desks and a substitute history teacher.
She needed to try and fill the hole he left in his absence. (She was tired, so tired.) Keeping up with Bakugou who had fallen silent, Todoroki who isolated himself, Ojiro who didn’t have a chance to say his goodbyes to the girl he loved, Iida who couldn’t even muster the strength to reprimand anyone when they fell out of line, Uraraka who couldn’t bring herself to smile anymore. (She wouldn’t be able to sleep anyways, not with Hagakure’s cut-off scream still piercing her ears.)
That was Luna’s duty to her pack and that included picking up their jagged pieces even if they cut into her hands and bled her dry. That was a sacrifice she was willing to make. It fell to her to defend the honor of her broken teacher who was willing to take the brunt of the blame because he believed whole-heartedly that he deserved it. (He didn’t, not the way Luna did.)
Luna would be damned if Aizawa thought he was going to shoulder this burden alone. She wouldn’t allow it, she refused. If that meant wrapping him with blankets when he couldn’t stand the silence of his room despite his empty protests, cleaning his face off when he fell asleep on her shoulder, and ignoring the wet patch she felt on her clothing, then so be it.
Silencing Vlad with another glare, she widened her stance, a clear indicator to anyone in the room that if the man stepped forward, she’d lunge, claws and all. “Hagakure is dead. The chances of her running around being a traitor are slim to none.” Luna was always careful with her words. She knew how much words could hurt but she couldn’t find it in herself to filter them. It was the worst statement she could have made given the slight wince behind her but she needed to drive the point home.
Vlad glared at her before retorting. “We have every right to suspect her. She’s gone, nobody, no leads, nothing. For all, we know she could’ve snuck away when everyone was too distracted. We can’t possibly know that if she was alive or dead.”
Luna scoffed, tempted to spit in his face. “I watched her die.” The instant the words left her mouth, she wanted to swallow them back up. The words were sour, bitter-tasting on her tongue. (The wolf in her wailed, her arm still reaching for a hand that would never come.)
Vlad’s eyes widened and Aizawa tensed behind her. She understood why their chemo signals were muddled, a mix of shock and terror. She hadn’t told anyone what went down on her side and when asked, quickly changed the subject. No one pushed her and said nothing about the jaded look in her eye when the topic was brought up. They understood (they understood but they were just kids, they shouldn’t have to understand.)
Class 1-A believed Hagakure was MIA and she couldn’t tarnish what little strength the class was regaining. Even if it meant hiding the truth behind Hagakure’s real disappearance and suffering underneath the weight of her own guilt.
“We were stuck in the mud. I was closer to the edge and managed to pull myself out but when I went to help her, she was crushed by Gigantomachia’s foot. She’d died and the only way she’s coming back is in a body bag. I’ve already gotten permission from Nedzu to retrieve her body since I’ve got a lock on her scent.” (She heard an animal screeching before it registered that it was her making the horrible sound.)
Luna rubbed her eyes, forcefully willing the moisture away. “I had no choice but to leave her body there. I couldn’t carry her and fight. I... I just... I left her there. It took me a while to convince him and I’m not going alone but I just...I need to be the one to find her. I owe her that much.” The silent message of I let her died and left her to rot was clear to everyone in the room. (She wasn’t fast enough and someone else paid the price.)
Heaving a sigh, she stared Vlad down. He was still wide-eyed, mouth sputtering as he tried to come up with a response, Luna didn’t even want to imagine what her teacher looked like, but she was not in the mood for any more bullshit. She came here to inform Aizawa that she would be gone for the next few days, not to argue. “So, pull your head out of your ass and show some damn respect for a hero who died fighting for our cause and get out.”
Her tone left no room for debate as Vlad stammered a choked apology to his collogue and shuffled out of the room. Luna clenched her jaw before slowly turning to her teacher. She kept her eyes to the floor; she didn’t want to see the disappointment written on his face. She would break down right then and there and Luna had to save her strength for her search and recovery mission.
She heard Aizawa shuffle around before his shoes were in her line of sight. She tensed when his hand rested on the top of her head. (She cradled Hagakure’s body. Ignoring the blood that pooled around her and soaked through her uniform. Please, say something. Anything. Please answer her.)
“I’m sorry.” She wrenched her head up, staring into Aizawa’s grey eyes. They were soft, with no sign of anger or anything of the sort. Watery, filled with warmth and tenderness and Luna felt her throat clog. What was he apologizing for? She didn’t understand.
He should be upset with her. She’d prefer screaming, yelling, she’d even take a punch to the face if it meant that he would stop looking at her like that. Like she was a piece of glass. She wasn’t fragile, nothing of the sort. She fought in a war, she went blind with her human eyes and learned to rely on her wolf sight to see, she hurtled through so many obstacles and came out baring scars as if they were war paint, she was anything but fragile.
So why the hell did she feel like she was going to shatter under Aizawa’s gaze?
Luna cleared her throat before responding. “You have nothing to be sorry for Sensei. I should be the one apologizing to you. I wasn’t trying to keep Hagakure a secret. I was going to tell you promise but I just, every time I wanted to bring it up, I couldn’t get the words out. Please don’t be angry with me.” (Not when I see her face in my dreams and she asks why I didn’t save her.)
Aizawa lightly sighed before pulling Luna into a hug. “I’m not angry. I’m sorry that you’ve struggled with this for so long. You watched your classmate die in front of you. It never gets easier. It’s a part of the job but you feel a piece of yourself die along with them.”
Luna clutched the back of his jumpsuit. She was trembling, her throat burned. “Let it out. I know that by taking care of the others and focusing on their needs, you never got the chance to grieve.”
Luna felt the tears overflowing but she held them back. She shook her head. “You weren’t there. I should’ve been quicker; I should’ve done more. I let her die and I left her there. I just left her there.” Aizawa hugged her tighter and she choked out a muffled cry.
“It wasn’t your fault. You did everything you could.” With that, Luna’s strength gave out and she pulled both of them to the floor. She wailed and Aizawa stroked her head whispering soothing words.
And if Luna felt her own shirt grow wet, she didn’t mention it.
______________________________________________________________________________
A month had passed since her search and recovery (thankfully the others that joined her on her search said nothing as she clutched the body of her pack member and allowed her to weep silently for an hour before heading back) and things were finally beginning to look up.
The class had since been informed about the truth of Hagakure and instead of being angry, they wrapped Luna in hugs and murmured encouraging messages in her ears. They grieved together in the middle of the dorm and again at Hagakure’s funeral.
They moved forward, as they always did, and when they caught a glimpse of a boy with curly green hair and freckles standing in front of the dorms, they knew everything would be just fine.