Chapter Text
Shota looked in horror as the paramedics took Oboro into the ambulance. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to the hand to see a white-haired man with red eyes.
“Such a shame, he was so young too,” the mocking tone sent shivers down the kid’s spine.
“What-?” before he could finish the sentence the man disappeared.
“Shota!?” a loud voice called out to him.
“Zashi?” his throat was dry from crying.
“Are you okay?” the blond asked.
“Yeah, but Boro,” Shota said forgetting about the man.
“He’ll be fine, we’re going to meet him and Nemuri at the hospital,”
“Okay,”
As Shota’s mentor drove them to the hospital neither of them spoke, Shota kept hearing the strangers mocking voice talking as if his friend was dead.
The hospital was full of heroes, doctors, and civilians hurrying around, apparently, lots of people got hurt.
“Hello how can I help you?” the receptionist asked with a smile, it made Shota sick, how could she smile when so many people were hurt?
“We’re here to see Oboro Shirakumo,” His Purple Highness said. The receptionist looked at something on her computer before answering.
“He’s in surgery right now, he should be out in five hours.”
Shota looked at the woman in shock before noticing the stranger from earlier staring at him from a window, after blinking the guy was gone.
Waiting and eternity seemed to mix, Hizashi’s nervous pacing was getting on his nerves, but it was a good distraction, at some point all their parents arrived. Nemuri’s mother was hugging her and Hizashi was in a big group hug. Oboro’s parents were sitting opposite them and crying. Shota’s mother sat next to her son quietly, she played around with her son’s hair while he sat quietly and flinched when she’d purposely pull too hard.
Eventually, a doctor came out, it was a relief and a new source of anxiety for Shota.
“There weren’t any complications, we’re hoping he’ll wake up in the next few days,” the words weren’t as comforting as he wished.
They were hoping not knowing.
“Can we see him?” Oboro’s mom asked.
“Yes, but please be prepared, he’s in pretty bad shape,”
Oboro’s usually floating hair was down and spread on the pillow, his face was expressionless and there was a huge bandage covering half his face. The sight made Shota sick to his stomach, but he didn’t say a word.
He came back the next day.
And the next.
And the next.
He kept coming for the next week.
But Oboro didn’t wake up.
One day he came alone, Sensoji’s insults got him bad that day.
He entered Oboro’s room and started telling him about his day, suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Shota turned to see a familiar set of red eyes.
“What do you want?” Shota asked.
“A deal,” was the man’s answer.
“Why and who are you?” Shota snapped.
“I’d like some more respect child,” the man scolded him.
“Then go to someone who cares and stop stalking me, it’s getting on my nerves,” Shota glared at him.
The man's eyes narrowed before he snapped his finger, suddenly Oboro’s heart monitor stopped beeping and nurses flooded into the room along with some doctors, he was quickly taken out of the room as he saw them prepare defibrillators.
The red-eyed man was sitting in the waiting room holding a magazine looking so smug Shota wanted to punch his teeth out.
“Are you going to hear me out now or do I have to hurt your friend more?”
“I’ll hear you out,” Shota knew he’d regret those words.
“You see I’ve had my eyes on you for quite some time, your quirk is quite amazing, the ability to temporarily take away someone’s quirk by looking at them,”
“Get to the point,”
“Such impatience, you should reel it back, for your friend’s sake.”
Shota didn’t need to be warned again he kept his mouth shut.
“That’s better. You see I found some interesting similarities between our quirks, and it fascinated me, my quirk allows me to take another person’s quirk for myself, I have quite a collection that I’ve created over the past two centuries,”
“So, you want me to give you my quirk?” Shota asked confused.
“That’s part of it, I want you, your loyalty, your will, your time, and everything you have, in exchange I’ll make your friend wake up. He’ll have a long and happy life, but you won’t be in it.”
“You’re sick in the head if you think I’ll join you,”
“You really think that your friend can afford that, he’s barely living as it is. That villain I sent really did a number on him.”
Shota froze at his words.
“You-…” Shota choked on his words.
“You seem surprised, do you really think it was such a random attack, you were the intended target, but I got your friend instead,”
Shota felt tears form in his eyes.
“What do I need to do to keep them safe?”
“One of my quirks contract forces whoever makes a deal with me to hold their end of the bargain, do you understand?”
“Yes,”
“So, in exchange for your friend waking up and protection along with the rest of your friends you’ll be mine and do whatever I want,” he offered his hand.
“Yes,” Shota took the hand without a second of hesitation.
A black ribbon wrapped around his hand binding the two together before dissolving all that was left was a symbol on Shota’s arm that spelled Shigaraki.
“Can I see him and make a call?”
“Tell them nothing,”
The nurses leave the room and he’s told he can see him again.
When he enters Oboro is still sleeping, when the man entered the room his eyes opened,
“Shota?” his voice was horse from lack of use.
“Welcome back,” Shota smiled.
“What happened man?” Oboro asked.
“You got crushed by a building, you were out for two weeks, I’m gonna call Zashi, I have to tell him you’re awake,” Shota hurriedly leaves the room.
“One phone call then we go,” Shigaraki tells him.
“Yes,” he nods before taking out his cellphone.
‘Shota, is that you? Dude, we’ve been worried sick. Sensoji shouldn’t have said that it wasn’t your fault,’ Hizashi’s voice was worried.
“He’s awake, you should come see him, I’m visiting my uncle for the weekend I can’t stay long,” he made an excuse.
“Time to go,” Shigaraki held out his hand and the teen took it before the two disappeared in a black mist.
That was the last time anyone would see Shota Aizawa in fifteen years.