Archive of Our Own ^beta

Aizawa Shota was what you would consider a “weird kid.” He wasn’t as energetic as most five-year-olds, he didn’t make too much noise, and he most often just played by himself. It was his first day of Kindergarten and he learned a lot of new things. He didn’t make an incredible impression, he wasn’t incredibly intelligent, but he landed around average. His teacher though did seem to find it odd how quiet he was, but she just brushed it aside to him being shy. Sometimes shy kids would come around, especially if they were only children. Shota didn’t have any brothers or sisters, so maybe he was just a little awkward? He’d grow out of it surely, so nobody paid attention to it for a while.

But after about three weeks of attending Kindergarten he still was the same as he’d been since he started here. He rarely spoke, didn’t have any friends, and played by himself. It was concerning to his teacher, and at the end of the day one day she spoke to his mother when she came to pick him up.

“Sho-chan doesn’t have any friends,” She had told her, which did seem to concern his mother greatly. He just stood next to her looking at his shoes, thinking about that stray cat he saw on the way here that morning.

After speaking with his teacher for a moment she took her son’s hand and led him out of the classroom and towards the car. He kept his eyes focused on the ground as they walked, still thinking about that cat and wondering if it found its way home. He only lifted his head to look at anything besides the ground when his mother opened the passenger side door for him to get in. Oh, she was letting him sit up front today. He liked when she let him sit up here, he could see everything more clearly.

He crawled into the seat and buckled himself in, his mother asking, “All buckled up?”

He nodded, humming a little ‘mhm’ before his mother closed the door and went around to get into the driver's seat. Shota watched his legs kick for a moment before he lifted his head to look out the windshield, charcoal colored eyes looking around curiously. The school was very pretty, there were lots of colors. He liked the flowers, especially the yellow ones.

The car started up and he looked over to his mother, having not even realized she had gotten into the car. She backed out and started down the road to their house, and he turned his attention back to the windshield after a moment, going back to watching the world around him. It was quiet for a few minutes, his mother’s fingernails tapping against the steering wheel a bit nervously; Shota didn’t notice. It was only when they had to stop at the railroad that she said, “Shota?”

“Hm?” He hummed, looking up at her curiously.

“Maiko-sensei told me you’ve been struggling a bit in class,” She told him, and he recognized the worried look on her face. He was confused though. He’d been struggling? He thought things were going pretty well?

He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow in confusion, “I have?”

“Y-Yes? That’s what she told me…” She looked down at her son, seeing the slightly taken aback expression on his face, as if this information surprised him, “Are you… not?”

He shook his head, messy black hair flopping about when he did, “No. I’ve been having fun.”

“O-Oh! Really?” She asked, curious.

He nodded, “Yeah. I like drawing pictures, and building stuff with the blocks. I built a really big tower today.”

“Oh? How big?” She asked, feeling herself start to smile when she heard the excitement creep into Shota’s voice.

“Like a hundred meters tall!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air, which made his mother giggle.

“A hundred meters tall, huh?” She smiled.

“Mhm!” He confirmed, rambling about whatever else he did that day. His mother asked a bunch of questions, and he answered them all. That day she learned Shota’s teacher just didn’t understand his personality very well. He was a bit shy, yes, but he was just a quiet kid in general and always liked doing things on his own. If he was having fun and learning, then why should she get in his way?

His father, on the other hand, wasn’t very happy. He wanted Shota to flourish, make friends and learn. When he got his report card halfway into the year and saw mostly average marks with some notes on his reading comprehension and spelling abilities, he wasn’t very happy. His parents fought a lot since he started school, and it was even worse when Shota turned six and still hadn’t manifested his quirk. So now, according to his father, he had a “stupid, awkward, quirkless son.” That hurt a little bit, and he really hoped his father hadn’t meant it and had just been angry.

Shota did get through Kindergarten though, and his first year of grade school started. Kids were different there, play time wasn’t as focused on and learning became more of the focus of school. Shota wasn’t really so fond of that, he didn’t like reading, he didn’t really care about it nor was he any good at remembering things. And the kids here were more annoying too, and they talked a lot more. They sure had a lot of stupid questions too.

“Hey Sho-chan, why do you never smile?” One of the kids had asked him one day; his name was Aoi.

Shota didn’t really know how to answer that. He did smile. Right? Well, he had never been an incredibly overly excitable kid, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get excited or happy about some things. Actually, now that Aoi had mentioned it, when was the last time he smiled? His parents had been fighting a lot the past year, and his Dad had come home drunk on more than one occasion the past week and yelled at him for “staring at him weirdly.” He wasn’t weird, was he?

He didn’t know how to answer the boy’s question, so he just shrugged and bowed his head, going back to coloring the picture he’d drawn. The other kids had left him alone after that, and they didn’t really bother him at all that year. He was quiet and awkward, stupid and quirkless. Why would anyone want to be friends with him anyway?

He was seven when he walked home from school all by himself because neither of his parents showed up to take him home. He got home before it started raining at least, but really he’d have rather been rained on then walked into his house on that day. He set his bag by the door, slipping off his shoes. It had been very dark in the home, which was odd. It was a bit eerie, his house was usually well lit when anyone was home. He went to reach for the light switch, when suddenly he was grabbed by the shoulders and pushed against the wall with force. He gasped and choked at the suddenness of it, eyes widening as he fearfully looked up to see the intruder. Someone had broken into their home, is that why his parents didn’t show up to pick him up? Were they okay?!

He smelled the booze on the intruder's breath and it reeked so bad he felt his stomach knot up. He was trembling, wondering what they would do to him, but when he blinked and cleared his vision he recognized the man standing before him, “D-Dad?”

“Shota, this is a very bad time,” He said to his son, words slurring together in his drunken state, “This is… between me and your mother, so please. Take a walk and when you come back this will all be resolved.”

Shota blinked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. This man didn’t sound like his father. His voice was lower than normal, tone edging on something threatening. His hands were gripping his shoulders too roughly, and if he held him any rougher he surely would’ve left bruises. When he looked down at his hands on his shoulders he saw blood, and that made the fear bubbling in the pit of his stomach reach the rest of his body, his heart starting to pound, “Dad? Where’s Mom?”

He chuckled then, and it was such a terrifying sound. Where did his Dad go? “Shota… Just go on that walk, alright? I’ll even give you some money to get one of those popsicles at the corner store.”

It’s November, they’re not selling those right now. He wanted to tell him, but he didn’t. He was much too scared to do anything right now. He swallowed thickly though, frightened eyes looking into his father’s as he asked again, “Dad… Where’s Mom?”

His father grit his teeth then, frowning and looking suddenly very angry, “I swear to- You never listen!”

He gripped the chest of his shirt and Shota cried out in terror when he was thrown onto the floor. He landed on his side and it hurt, his ribs taking the brunt of the impact. He pushed himself onto his hands, looking up at his father as he approached him again; he started trying to plead with him, “D-Dad! What are you doing?! What happened?! Why are you-”

He grunted in pain when he received a harsh kick to the gut, coughing when he tried to catch his breath. He heard his father’s voice through his ragged coughs and wheezes, his voice low and threatening, “Shut up and let me and your mother handle this.”

He looked up still coughing, tears in his eyes as he watched his Dad start to walk away. He had blood on his hands and a crazed look in his eye. He’d done something to his mother and no matter how scared he was he didn’t want to let him go back and hurt her anymore, “S-Stop it! Whatever you did to her, stop! She doesn’t deserve this! She-”

And suddenly he was right back in his face again, grabbing his shirt and pulling him onto his knees, glaring. Shota was so scared, “You don’t know what she deserves. I’ve given her everything, I’ve given you everything. Do you think either of you would be living here in such a nice place if it weren’t for me? You wouldn’t have all of these nice things without me. Hell, without me you wouldn’t even be here. I am your father, so be good for once in your life and listen to me.”

Then he pushed him onto the floor again and stormed off, going down this hall to his room he shared with his wife. Shota coughed a little more, still wheezing from the kick in the stomach. He clenched his fists against the hardwood floor beneath him, closing his eyes tight and crying. Why is this happening? His mother has done nothing wrong, why is he hurting her? He could hear his mother speaking now, her voice high and frightened.

“Is Shota home?” And when his father didn’t answer he could hear his mother screech at him, “What did you do?! You didn’t hurt him did-”

There was a loud smack followed by a cry of pain, and then his father began to yell again; it’s as if he didn’t care if anyone else heard any of this, “He’s fine! Maybe a little rough housing will teach him to man up!”

His mother was sobbing, and so was he. Is this because of him? Is his father mad because he wasn’t doing well at a couple of his subjects in school? Is it because he can’t make friends? Because he doesn’t know how to talk to people? Or maybe it’s because he’s quirkless? Maybe if he had a floating quirk like his mother, or a telekinetic quirk like his father then he wouldn’t be such a failure in his eyes. This is all of his fault then, wasn’t it? Being the failure only child was shameful, and he’d noticed his father getting angrier. He must have finally snapped.

“Don’t hurt my son! If you lay even a finger on him I’ll-”

Shota winced when she cried out in pain again, and he gripped at his hair harshly when his father yelled again, “Your son?! He’s just as much mine as yours, though he’s just as much of a brat as you! Maybe if you weren’t so useless then you would’ve given me a better child!”

His mother was speaking again, but she was such a wreck emotionally that she wasn’t speaking coherently anymore. Shota covered his ears, not wanting to hear it anymore. He couldn’t stand to hear her cry and scream. He wanted it to stop. Why wouldn’t it stop? He could hear her screaming get louder, her voice becoming pleading and then it stopped. Shota laid still for a moment, not sure what had happened. He slowly uncovered his ears, listening for sounds, but he didn’t hear anything. What happened?

He pushed his shaking hands and knees to the ground, getting himself to his feet; he stumbled a bit, but stayed upright. He held his sore ribs as he cautiously stepped down the short hallway to his parents bedroom, and when he reached the doorway he stopped and slowly peered around, hoping to stay out of sight of his father. But when he saw what he saw, his eyes widened in terror.

His father was using his quirk to choke his mother, and she was gasping for air, clawing at invisible hands. Telekinetic quirks that worked on people were rare, and if they did work on people there were strict laws when using it. His father didn’t seem to care for the law too much right now anyway though. Shota stepped around the doorframe, coming further into view and looking in with horrified eyes. His mother saw him, and her expression crumpled with sadness.

“Sho… ta…” She tried choking out, and her husband’s laughter startled the boy in the doorway.

“Shota’s fine, stop complaining!” He barked through disturbing chuckles, “Just take a nap, darling!”

She was struggling to breath, reaching for her son. She had a desperate look in her eyes, and when she caught his gaze she was able to force a smile and choke out, “I… love you…”

She coughed and choked, very visibly distressed as her husband tightened his hold on her throat. Suddenly, something ran through Shota that he’s never really felt before. It was intense and he didn’t like it and he realized after only a moment that what he was feeling was rage.

He clenched his fists again, taking a step inside the room and furrowing his eyebrows in anger, “Let her go!”

His Dad tensed up, as if not expecting his son to be there. He turned to look over his shoulder at the boy, then he smirked in some sort of sick satisfaction, “Well, well, maybe you’re tougher than I thought. Daddy’s busy right now though, so scram.”

Then he turned back to hurting his wife. Shota couldn’t stand it anymore, and he stepped even further into the room and glared harshly at the back of his father’s head, yelling at him once again, “I said let her go!”

The man growled and went to glare at his son, but then his wife was coughing and gasping for breath, and she was getting it. She fell to her knees, sucking in sharp breaths and trying to even out her breathing. He clenched his fist in front of him, confused. Why isn’t his quirk working anymore? What just…

When he heard his son’s ragged breathing he turned around to face him, and his eyes widened with surprise at what he saw. His hair was floating around him and his eyes had changed from their charcoal color to a bright glowing red, and if looks could kill…

“Shota, you… You have a quirk…” He said, realization setting in. His son did have a quirk. He would’ve thought he would’ve taken after his mother or him, or maybe a combination of them both, but no, he’s got his own very unique quirk. And it erased other people’s quirks, “It’s too bad it’s useless. You can’t fight with a quirk like that. Any villain can still kick your ass, quirk or not when you’re weak.”

He turned around and started stepping towards his son, but Shota didn’t move, he didn’t even flinch. He just glared up at his father, eyes unblinking. That made his father angry it seemed and suddenly he was frowning and glaring too, reaching out to grab Shota by the chest of his shirt and lifting the small boy off of the ground with ease. Shota finally blinked then, his hair falling back near his shoulders as he was slammed against the wall. He kicked his legs, clawing at his father’s hand to try and get him to let him go, “Get off! I hate you!”

“Oh, you hate me now? That’s no way to talk to the man who gave you life,” He growled, and Shota’s eyes widened, but not because of what his father said but because his mother was suddenly behind the man and with a lamp in her hand.

“Let go of my son right now!” Then she slammed the lamp over his head, the base of it shattering into dozens of pieces as the man cried out in pain and fell to the floor, dropping the boy as he went. Shota’s feet hit the ground and his mother quickly grabbed him, pulling him to her and pushing him behind her as a form of protection, swearing to herself to keep him safe.

“You bitch!” Her husband yelled, holding his bleeding head, “What the hell is-”

“Get the fuck out of my house!” She yelled at him, broken lamp still in her hands as she pointed the broken shards towards him, “If you ever lay a hand on him again I will kill you, you bastard!”

He grit his teeth, glaring at her and starting to stand, “Why you-”

She lunged towards him with the sharp object, letting him know she wasn’t playing around, “I said get out!”

He was silent then, staring at her with shock. He was stumped, he’d dug himself a hole and now he’d have to lie in it. He got to his feet, stumbling a bit from being lightheaded, and he looked between his wife and son. She looked angrier than he’s ever seen her, and Shota looked frightened, gripping his mother’s skirt tightly as he peeked around her to look at his deranged father. The man frowned, but accepted defeat. He turned around and stumbled down the hall, leaving his wife and son to be alone in the house. She kept the sharp object pointed at the door until she heard the door shut and his car start up, driving away, then she dropped it and released a deep, relieved breath. She turned around and fell to her knees before her son, quickly wrapping her arms around him and holding him close.

“Shota, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” She sobbed into his shoulder, thin fingers stroking through his hair, then she placed her hands on his shoulders and pulled him away, looking him over for injuries, “Are you okay?! Are you hurt?! Show me!”

Her hands were on his face, tilting his head to check for bruises or any blood, but she didn’t find any, “I’m okay, Mom. I’ve got a quirk now! I’ll protect you!”

She stopped her movements, cupping his face in her hands as she looked at him. He was so proud of himself. She had to smile through her tears, and she giggled, “You do have a quirk now! Thank you for saving me, Super Boy.”

He smiled at her before lifting a fist into the air and shouting, “Never fear! I’ll save the day!”

She laughed a little harder; he always knew how to make her smile, even when she was sad, “I know you will. I love you.”

Then she leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek, but he swatted her away, “Moooom! Superheroes don’t get kisses from their mom’s!”

“Oh really?” She quirked an eyebrow, “Well this one does!”

Then she leaned forward and started peppering kisses all over his face, and he protested through his giggles, “Mom! Stop it! That tickles!”

His father was gone now, but he and his Mom were still together. And all they really needed was each other.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

He never was a big fan of All Might. He wasn’t sure what the big deal was with him. He’s just a flashy hero with a big goofy grin and a stupid catchphrase. He didn’t get it. Even still though, all of the kids in his class thought he was the greatest. He had to be faking it. There’s no way someone was that nice and heroic. There had to be a catch. Maybe he was secretly a loser. Or maybe he was mean. Either way, Shota didn’t understand. When he was younger maybe flashy heroes were cool, but now they were just way too loud and annoying. He wanted to be someone who wasn’t so… popular? Actually, yeah. That’s it. He didn’t want to be popular. He didn’t like attention. He did want to be a hero though, and a good one. How do you become a good hero who helps a lot of people without becoming popular though?

Well, start with his quirk for one. Nothing special about it. It was called Erasure and all it did was make people’s quirks stop working for as long as he didn’t blink. Practically useless. He couldn’t fight or anything, he was weak. Sometimes he thought maybe he wasn’t cut out for this hero thing…

But one day, in class during recess hour, an idea struck him. There were a couple of boys messing with a jump rope, playing hero. One of the boys was playing the role of the villain, and by the end of the “chase” and “fight” he had been captured when one of the others tossed the jump rope around him, effectively capturing him and subduing him. They celebrated and moved on to their next scenario, but Shota thought about that first scene for a while. Something like that could work, right? He may not be a good fighter, but if he could learn how to just a little bit and make some sort of… capturing device? Yeah, maybe something like that will work.

Ropes didn’t work, he tried that. He didn’t like them, it made his hands burn. Ribbons were also a no go, they were too brittle and soft, they’d break too easily. He tried a lot of stuff, but he ended up getting hurt a couple of times. Eventually he decided maybe if he made something himself it might work better. He gathered fabrics, and though his Mom offered to help, he wanted to do it on his own. Eventually he did make a long piece of fabric that he used as a scarf, and yeah, it was very horrible looking, he’d never sewed before, but it worked for practice.

So, every afternoon after school he’d finish his homework and go into his backyard and practice with his “capture weapon” as he called it. He’d line up action figures and shoot the scarf at them. He wasn’t very good at really capturing anything, but could at least knock them over so that was a start. After about a month of doing this, he managed to knock his line of seven action figures down one after the other, which made him pretty giddy.

“I did it!” He shouted, then he cleared his throat and frowned, trying not to get too excited as he faced his final foe, “Skeletor, so we meet again.”

The action figure of the skeletal villain just stood there in silence and mocked him, and he narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at it, “Laugh all you want, villain! You’re no match for me, Erasure… Guy…” He’s working on a hero name, give him a break, “Eat fabric softener you fiend!”

Then he shot his scarf out and whipped Skeletor right in the face, sending him falling onto his back along with the other action figures. Shota pulled the scarf back and began to laugh, “Hahaha!” Okay, wait, no that’s not good enough. He needed something bigger, “HAHAHA!” No that’s even worse, now he looks insane or even worse, he looks like All Might. He didn’t want to be that flashy, so maybe he should just stick with crossing his arms and feigning nonchalance. Yeah, that might work. It’s cool, too.

Unbeknownst to him, his mother was standing at the kitchen window washing dishes and watching her son “practice his hero moves.” It made her smile seeing him so happy. She’d have to make him a new scarf for Christmas.

A few months passed and he was starting his first year of middle school. Middle school was a lot different from primary school, the kids were a whole lot crueler. On his first day he got bullied for his scarf, and on his second day someone tried to pull on it. On his third day someone stepped on it where it had become untangled and choked him briefly. On day four, he just stopped wearing it and kept it in his bag. Of course, that then prompted the others to harass him about his scarf, asking him where he put it and why he stopped wearing it, mocking him. He tried to ignore them, he was always quite good at ignoring people he didn’t like. But these kids just never gave up. Since when were eleven-year-old’s so mean?

He was on his way home from the last day of his first week at middle school when those bullies tried following him home. He kept his head low when they started talking to him, hoping that if he ignored them long enough they’d get bored and leave him alone.

“Hey Sho-chan, going home to play with your toy?” One of the kids asked, his friend following behind him and snickering, “Why don’t you invite us over? We’re really good at playing games!”

“What’s your favorite game, Sho-chan?” The other boy asked, slinging an arm around Shota’s shoulders and acting all friendly like he never was, “Oh yeah, it’s pretending to be a hero.”

“Pretending is all you got, huh? Ya know, since you’ll probably never really be a real one,” The other mocked, and Shota clenched his jaw, trying to keep himself from getting too worked up.

“Leave me alone…” He mumbled, refusing to look at either of them and instead focusing on his shoes.

“Oh come on, don’t be that way,” He was elbowed in the ribs, “We’re just trying to have a little fun. Right Haido?”

“Right Yusuke!” Haido chuckled, then he grabbed Shota’s backpack, “So, let’s see the scarf, Sho-chan!”

Shota fell back, his bag slipping off of his shoulders before he hit the ground. He frantically looked over his shoulder at the two boys, sitting up on his knees and reaching towards them, “Wait!”

They opened his bag before turning it upside down and dumping all of the contents onto the ground. His books and some pencils fell out, a calculator and other assorted items. And, of course, his scarf; Yusuke scoffed, “What is all of this stuff?”

He reached down and picked up one of the notebooks, opening it up and filtering through it, and Shota tried to get him to stop, “Don’t look in there! Give it back!”

Then Yusuke laughed, “Haha! Hey Haido, look at this!”

The other boy leaned over after he picked up Shota’s scarf, and he started laughing too when he saw the contents of the book, “Wow! You really are deranged! Is that supposed to be you?!”

He flipped the book around to show Shota a picture he scribbled of himself in a hero costume prototype. He felt his face heat up but he tried snatching the book back, “Give it back! That’s not yours!”

“Haha!” The boys continued to laugh, “Well, it’s not yours anymore either!”

Then he grabbed the book and ripped it clean in half before dropping it onto the ground. Shota gasped and crawled forward to grab it, “Stop it!”

“This thing is so flimsy, I could just rip it to shreds easier than that book,” Haido said, tugging at the scarf.

“Wait, please-” But it was too late, he was already ripping it apart into about three or four pieces, and Shota just sat there and watched it happen. The other two were laughing about the whole thing, but Shota failed to find any humor in any of this. Why were other people so cruel? He didn’t even do anything, they just picked him out of the class to pick on and stuck with it. They’ve been messing with him all week. He wants to go home.

“How are you gunna be a hero now, Sho-chan? Not that you had any chance of it before,” Haido laughed, “Oh my God, are you crying?”

Shota sniffled and held his book to his chest, gripping a piece of his ruined scarf in his hand, refusing to look up at either of them; Yusuke laughed, “You’re such a crybaby. You can just draw another picture and make another one of these. We’re just messing around.”

He shook his head, hair falling into his eyes, “No… you’re not…”

Yusuke knelt down, lowering his voice and trying to be threatening, “What was that?”

Shota opened his mouth to say something back, but a sudden rush of wind between them cut him short. Yusuke and Haido jumped back, shouting in surprise at the suddenness of what was happening, “Who are you?!”

“Perfect! I can take a hostage!” The other two cried out and stepped back further, and when Shota heard what the man said his tear filled eyes widened and he slowly lifted his head. There was a large man towering over him, casting a shadow over his entire being. When he turned around to look down at him, he smiled big and sinister, then he said, “You’ll do!”

“W-Wait-” But it did nothing to protest, because the man quickly reached down and scooped him up before crouching down and jumping incredibly high; some kind of springing quirk.

He held Shota under the arms, his grip firm but not very careful. Shota panicked and grabbed at the man’s arm, praying with everything that he had that he wouldn’t drop him. He looked down, watching his legs dangle from this height; they were up pretty far. He felt himself choke on a gasp, and he closed his eyes and prayed that this was all a dream and he’d wake up soon.

“Watch where you’re scratching! That hurts!” The villain snapped, which made Shota gasp and turn his head up to look at the man. The man seemed to recognize fear in the boy’s face, and he grinned, “What? Afraid I’m gunna drop you?”

He didn’t answer that question, but what he did say might as well have confirmed what the man wanted to know, “P-Please let me go.”

The man looked down at the ground, then he grinned, “Well, if you insist!”

Then Shota felt himself falling. It took him a second to realize what had just happened, and when he did he started to panic. He was pretty high up. Not incredibly so that he couldn’t make out what was on the ground, but high enough to die from a fall this height. He was going to die today and there was nothing he could do to stop it. So, he closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable.

But, it never happened. He felt himself being caught, held more securely than before. He didn’t hit the asphalt, he didn’t meet his horrible fate. He was alive and… Still flying through the sky? He opened his eyes again, and when he looked up he saw not the villain who had been trying to end his life, but a hero. And not just any hero, the hero.

All Might.

“Are you alright, my boy?” He asked, peering down at him with a concerned glint in his eye.

Shota blinked, eyes wide with shock. He couldn’t believe All Might was here, and saving him! Yeah, okay. He was talking shit about All Might earlier, but seeing him in person was so much different! He was in awe, he couldn’t believe this!

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked again, and Shota blinked, realizing he didn’t answer All Might’s question just a second ago.

“Huh? Y-Yeah! I’m fine!” He finally answered, voice a little higher than normal.

All Might smiled then, “That’s good to hear!” And then his feet were touching the ground and he was setting Shota on his feet as well. The boy stumbled a bit but the hero put his hands on his shoulders to steady him, “You stay right here, alright? I’ll come back to check on you in a second, let me just handle this guy alright?”

Shota nodded, looking up at All Might with wide eyes as he began to walk towards the villain that landed several yards away, “Okay!”

All Might gave him a thumbs up and big smile before he turned towards the villain that was approaching him and cackled, “I knew taking a hostage would get you to fight me directly!”

“He’s just a child! How could you do something so horrible!” All Might snapped, glaring at the villain.

“Anything to get to do this!” Then the villain ran forward, fist raised and ready to punch.

All Might raised his fist too, swinging it forward when the villain got close, shouting, “Detroit Smash!”

He hit the villain square in the face, sending him several yards back and watching the man hit the ground, completely unconscious. All Might slumped his shoulders, raising an eyebrow, “Well, that was easier than I thought.”

Ugh, he got kidnapped by that guy? Now it was just sort of embarrassing. All Might stood there for a moment, and after a couple of other heroes showed up and All Might told them he handled the villain and for them to please restrain him and bring him to the police station. As they did that, the Number One Hero turned back around and stepped back over to the boy, smiling at him kindly, “Are you alright, little one?”

Shota nodded, still in awe, “Yeah! Did… Did you get him?”

Of course he did, you just watched him sucker punch the guy. Idiot… All Might grinned even bigger though, placing his hands on his hips, “Of course, I did! No one will ever get away with such atrocities while I am here!”

He gave him a thumbs up after he said that. Goofy grin, stupid catchphrase, over politeness. Man, he really was just like he was on TV. It was almost… refreshing? “What’s that you got in your hand there?”

“Huh?” Shota looked down to see what he meant, only to see he had been holding a piece of that fabric from his torn up scarf this whole time. He suddenly frowned, slumping his shoulders in disappointment, “Oh… It’s nothing, just a piece from something I broke.”

All Might frowned, “Oh, well that’s too bad. Maybe you can get another one.”

He could, but it still hurt what happened. He shrugged, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you live around here?” All Might asked him, moving the conversation to maybe something that wouldn’t make the boy look so sad.

Shota was about to nod when he suddenly realized his bag with not only his sketchbook and shredded scarf, but all of his school supplies was left dumped on the sidewalk a couple of blocks back, “Oh shit! My bag!”

The hero’s eyebrows raised at the boy’s language. Kids these days sure were different. He watched the kid turn around and start to run off, but he called out to him, “Hey, maybe I can take you there? I do need to report this to your parents as well and assure them you are safe.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine!” Shota kept running off, but All Might felt weird about letting him go off on his own after all of this, so he followed after him.

“I’ll go with you to ensure your safety!” He said, jogging alongside the boy.

Shota glanced up at him and he wanted to roll his eyes, but instead he said, “Well, alright.”

So they ran the couple of blocks it took to find where he’d been picked off the street, and thankfully his bag and scattered items were still there. He breathed a sigh of relief, “Oh, thank God.”

He fell to his knees and started sliding stuff back into his bag, and the hero watched him curiously. Why was all of his stuff out of it? “Did you forget to zip it up and drop it?”

Shota frowned at the question and shook his head, “No… It was just a couple of bullies being mean. It’s nothing.”

He grabbed his ripped in half notebook and frowned before throwing into his bag in a slight show of anger. All Might stepped forward a little more, kneeling down next to the child and frowning as he grabbed at the torn fabric lying on the ground, “Does this belong to that piece you’re holding there?”

Shota looked at the piece in his hand, then he nodded, but stayed silent. All Might had to ask, “What was it?”

Shota shook his head, “It’s nothing. It’s stupid.”

“Well, surely not if you’re upset about it being broken,” All Might told him, but Shota really didn’t want to talk about it.

“I’m not upset about it!” He yelled, glaring at the hero who looked taken aback by his sudden anger. Shota felt bad, and he slumped his shoulders and hid behind his hair, “It’s… My quirk is kind of lame, okay? So I thought making some sort of support device might help me become a better hero, that’s all…”

All Might frowned as he looked at the torn scarf in his hands and then he tried to look at the kid who was still hiding, “Well, I’m sure you can get a new one! Or make one! Was this one hand made?”

Shota nodded slowly, looking at his hands. He started wringing them nervously, wondering if he should ask the hero what he’s always wanted to ask any hero. He was here now, so why not go for it? “All Might? Can I ask you something?”

“Well, of course!” All Might said, putting a smile back onto his face.

“Well… I was wondering… Do you think… I could be a good hero?” He asked, sort of mumbling his question, “My quirk is called Erasure so all I can do is erase other people’s quirks. I can’t fight or anything, so I’m not very strong. I just don’t know if I’m good enough.”

This kid seems to think about this a lot, but he also seems to put a lot of thought into being a hero in general, and that was a good thing. All Might put a hand on Shota’s shoulder gently, garnering his attention to him so he could answer his question, “You really want to be a hero, don’t you?” When Shota nodded, he continued, “Well, that’s all you really need. You seem to put a lot of thought into this, even going so far to acknowledge your weaknesses and try to make up for them in different ways. Not everyone needs a flashy quirk like mine to be a good hero, all you need is the courage and kindness to go forth with it.”

He never really got positive feedback on his quirk or his dreams. His mother had been supportive and that’s really it. The kids at school didn’t think he was good enough, hell, not even his teachers seemed to think so. But here the Number One Hero was, telling him he could be great. He wanted to smile, so he bowed his head to hide again before All Might could see it, “Thanks…”

All Might knew he was smiling, but he didn’t mention it and just smiled back, “No problem, my boy! Uh… What is your name? It feels weird to keep referring to you as ‘my boy.’”

“I don’t know, it kind of suits you,” Shota said, then he introduced himself, “My name is Aizawa Shota.”

“Aizawa Shota, huh? Now that’s a hero’s name!” All Might said, and that made Shota laugh, “Now, how about you let me make sure you get home safe so I can tell your mother about everything that happened?”

“She’s gonna flip,” Shota said, though he was still smiling as he stood and slung his bag over his shoulder, “But alright, come on.”

Needless to say, his mother was very starstruck when she saw All Might on her doorstep.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Going to UA had been a dream of his since he was a little kid, but when he turned fifteen and was able to actually apply his dream he felt was a little far fetched. He applied anyway, but he was quite certain he wouldn’t make it in. The entrance exam wasn’t really made for quirks like his, which he thought was a little unfair but there wasn’t really much he could do about it. He got zero points in the practical, but he seemed to do at least decent on the written portion. Even still, he was surprised when he got a letter a week later telling him he’d been accepted. Sure, it was into the general education course but that didn’t mean he couldn’t work his way into the hero’s course someway!

So, it all came down to the sports festival in his first year. He’d gotten pretty far and was trying to advance to the semi-finals. His opponent was some kid with a loud hairstyle and a loud fashion sense. He’s seen him throughout the whole festival, it’s kind of hard to miss him as his quirk is, did you guess it? Yes, loud. So, at least he was prepared for that and could combat it.

“Up next, we have Class 1-A’s Yamada Hizashi Vs. Class 1-C’s Aizawa Shota! Who will win?! Let’s find out!” The announcer for the festival yelled, quite lively. It was a bit annoying, but whatever.

Both Shota and his opponent stepped onto the mat, standing a couple of yards apart. Shota was quite awkward the way he stood, rather stiff and with a deadpan expression on his face, though it looked more determined today. This Yamada guy though was smiling and had his hands stuffed into his pockets nonchalantly, as if this were all fun and games to him. It might be, he was already in the hero course, what did he have to lose except maybe a little bit of his pride?

“Heya! I’m Yamada! But you can call Hizashi, I’m not big on formalities!” He introduced himself, voice loud even without his quirk activated. Shota didn’t return the introduction, but Yamada just pulled his hands out of his pockets and flashed him the finger guns, “Not one for chatter, I feel ya! Good luck out there anyway, my man!”

And then the announcer was yelling, “Go!”

Yamada immediately took a deep inhale, preparing to use his quirk to amplify his yell, but Shota was prepared just like he had been this whole time. His eyes flashed red and when Yamada went to yell he choked instead, nothing coming out. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused, then he looked at the dark-haired boy standing across from him and saw his eyes glowing red and his hair floating around him. Well, that’s peculiar.

“Hey bro! Is your quirk working?! Cuz mine ain’t!” Yamada yelled in his normal voice, which felt a little odd.

Oh my God, he’s stupid.

Shota kept quiet though, or at least he tried to, but Yamada kept waving his arms around and yelling at him, “Hey! Hey man! My voice sounds weird all low like this! Hey!”

Shota wanted to roll his eyes, but he had to keep his focus on the other boy. He did sigh though, answering his question to shut him up, “I erased your quirk!”

Yamada’s eyes widened, “Erased my- Whoa! That’s suuuper wild!”

Oh my God, would he please shut up? It’s really hard to focus when he-

“Well, if I can’t use my quirk I’ll have to use my practical skills!” Then he was dashing forward and Shota’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly calmed himself. He was going to attack, he had to be ready to fight back. He’d been learning a few tricks, and while he wasn’t a great fighter he was better than he’d been before.

So when Yamada was in front of him, swinging his fist forward, Shota grabbed his arm and turned. He pulled his arm over his shoulder and flipped the blonde over him, throwing him onto the ground in front of him. Yamada coughed in surprise when his back hit the ground and when he opened his eyes he saw the dark-haired boy glaring down at him, determination set in his grey eyes.

“Hey, that was pretty-” Oh wait, his voice was back to normal, he could feel it could go higher than before. Did the boy give him his quirk back? He wasn’t sure why he did that, but he wasn’t complaining about it. He took a deep breath and shouted, and Shota covered his ears and winced, stumbling back off of him. Yamada got to his feet and while Shota was incapacitated he ran towards him, grabbing him and swinging him around before he threw him onto the ground.

Shota was a bit confused, everything that just happened happened so fast. But now he was on the floor and Yamada was placing a foot on his chest, beaming down at him in victory, “I win!”

Shota winced again but knew he had lost; the boy’s quirk could burst eardrums if he tried hard enough, “And the winner of this round and advancing to the semi-finals is Class 1-A’s Yamada Hizashi!”

The crowd cheered and Yamada smiled in pride, but Shota couldn’t feel any more shitty about this whole situation. Well, there goes his dreams of getting into the hero course next semester. He was hoping if he was at least to make the podium they’d offer him a spot, but now…

“Here, let me help you up there, buddy!” Yamada took his foot off of him and stepped back, offering a hand to the other boy, but Shota just glared at his hand before scooting back and getting up himself. Yamada frowned as Shota stormed off, wondering if he’d done something wrong.

By the end of the festival, Yamada didn’t make the podium either and got beat in the next round by some kid with a strength based quirk. Shota didn’t stick around to watch though, and instead he sulked outside the arena for a while as he waited for the train a couple blocks away. It wouldn’t show up for another hour at this point, so sitting here on this bench outside the arena pouting sure seemed like the best plan for now.

Well, at least until he got unwanted company.

“Hey! You’re the kid who kicked my ass in our 1v1!” That familiar loud voice spoke, making him lift his head to look in his direction. He was walking with another kid now, and in Shota’s experience kids that were bigger than him usually wanted to mess with him, so none of this was giving him any warm fuzzy feelings.

He tensed up and crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes, “What do you want?”

“Ooh, rough crowd,” Yamada said, “I never got your name back there, scruffy!”

“What’s it matter to you?” Scruffy?

“Hi! I’m Shirakumo Oboro! I think I heard your name was Shilo or something like that…?” The tall boy with the fluffy cloud of hair said, leaning forward a bit curiously.

Ugh, they really weren’t going to leave this alone were they? He sighed, releasing a tad bit of the tension from his shoulders, “Aizawa Shota.”

“Ooh, banger name!” Yamada said with a smile, “And your quirk erases quirks?”

Is this where they start making fun of him? Shota shrugged, “Yeah… I know it’s kinda lame but-”

“That’s so cool!” Shirakumo beamed, “You can just. Take away people’s quirks?!”

Shota was surprised by the excited tone in Shirakumo’s voice, as well as by the impressed looks both of them were giving him. Was this just another way to make fun of him? “Um… Yeah. But I can only use it for as long as I don’t blink. Once I blink you get your quirk back.”

“And how long can you go without blinking?” Yamada asked curiously.

“Um, two minutes I think,” Shota replied.

“Whoa! I can only go like ten seconds!” Shirakumo said excitedly.

What was with these two? They’re trying to make fun of him right? Yamada stepped a little closer, putting a foot up on the bench and leaning his arm on his knee, “Hey, you’re not in the hero course are you? I’ve never seen you around in Class B.”

Shota frowned, bowing his head, “No… I’m in General. I was hoping by doing well in the sports festival maybe they’d see my potential and let me in, but…”

Yamada and Shirakumo frowned then, Yamada speaking again, “Hey man, you should’ve told me! I could’ve forfeited or something!”

Shota shook his head, narrowing his eyes again, “No, I wanted to win with my own power, not because someone felt bad for me.”

“Well, I guess that’s understandable,” Yamada shrugged, then he smiled, “But hey! Just cuz you didn’t win doesn’t mean they weren’t paying attention to you! Maybe something good will come out of this after all!”

Shota shook his head, tightening his arms around himself, “It’s no use… Someone with a quirk like me could never get into the hero course, it was stupid to even dream about it…”

Yamada and Shirakumo frowned again, not really sure what to say to that. It was silent between them all for a minute or so, and then there was another voice speaking, the voice of the announcer who also happened to be a teacher here at UA, “Good afternoon, boys.”

They all looked up at him, and Yamada smiled excitedly, “DJ Kool! Awesome announcing out there!”

The teacher smiled back at the boy, “Thank you! With a quirk like yours, maybe you can do that someday too!”

That seemed to make the blonde happy, “Ah man, that’d be banger!”

The teacher laughed, then he said to all of them, “I would like to let you all know you did absolutely amazing out there today! Your quirks are all very interesting and powerful!”

Shirakumo and Yamada smiled at that, seeming happy to get a compliment from a pro. Shota just sat there in silence though. He’s probably just saying that to be nice to me. The teacher turned to him though, hands behind his back as he spoke, “And you, Aizawa-kun. The principal has asked me to come and retrieve you, he has something he’d like to discuss with you.”

Shota lifted his head at that, blinking and furrowing his eyebrows in surprise, “Huh?”

The teacher chuckled, “Well, don’t look so surprised. Come on, I’ll take you there.”

“Uh-um, yeah, okay,” He stood then, uncrossing his arms and following after the teacher. He didn’t miss how excited Yamada and Shirakumo looked as he passed them, and he also didn’t miss the thumbs up they were giving him. He would’ve rolled his eyes, but he was too focused on what was happening right now. What did the principal want to see him for?

“Do you think he’s gonna get into the hero course?” Yamada asked, watching along with Shirakumo at the dark-haired boy walking away.

Shirakumo gave him a sideways glance, smiling teasingly as he elbowed the shorter boy, “You’d like that wouldn’t you, Hizashi-kun?”

“Huh?” Yamada looked at him curiously.

“Oh don’t play dumb with me, I saw the look on your face when he flipped you out there,” Shirakumo teased, still elbowing him in the side.

“H-Huh?! Haha, w-what are you talking about, Shirakumo?!” Yamada yelped, face burning a bit red at the taller boy’s suggestions.

Shota did get into the hero course, much to Yamada and Shirakumo’s pleasure, but mostly to Yamada’s even if he didn’t want to admit it.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Aizawa, you’re not doing it right. Aizawa, you need to try harder. Aizawa, you’re not strong enough. Blah, blah, blah. It really was tiring to hear after a while, and he’d been hearing it his whole life at this point. But now he was hearing it from teacher’s, and that hurt a little more because they were his mentors and they should be encouraging him, not bringing him down and making him feel bad at his lack of combat capabilities. He’s trying his best, don’t they see that? And he’s doing a lot better than he did just weeks ago! It’s his first semester in the hero course, and only his first month! Why is everyone always so- Ugh.

He was in the locker room, changing out of his hero costume and back into his school uniform. He had all but his jacket and shoes on, and when he was grabbing his shoes he was suddenly grabbed by the shoulder and spun around before being slammed against the lockers harshly, “I saw you out there, you know?”

Oh, it’s Sensoji. They really didn’t get along, or more accurately Sensoji really didn’t like him and he wasn’t sure why but he’d stopped asking that question long ago. He narrowed his eyes, “Yeah, of course you did. It was a joint-training exercise between our classes? Ring a bell?”

He pulled Shota back suddenly before quickly slamming him back into the locker, “I know what happened! What I meant to say was that I saw you out there acting like you were better than me!”

Well, that didn’t even make any sense, “Better than you? All I’m doing is what everyone else is doing and trying my best.”

“I saw that look on your face, Aizawa! You always look like you detest everyone else and look down on us!” He shouted at him, and Shota flinched when he got a little too close; his grip on his shoulders was starting to hurt.

“I don’t look down on anybody, now leave me alone,” He snapped, trying to keep up a tough front and pray it made Sensoji go away.

“Just watch yourself, Eraser Boy. There’s a lot of tough people in the hero course and you’re not one of ‘em,” Then he slammed Shota back against the lockers before finally releasing him and turning to be on his way.

Shota stood there for a moment, not moving. Instead, he glared down at his feet and clenched his fists. He was really tired of people telling him he wasn’t good enough or strong enough to be a hero, looking down on him like he was weak. And all of these people who claimed to want to be heroes were always so cruel. What kind of heroes would they even be?!

Aizawa clenched his fists harder and grit his teeth before he spun around quickly and let out a cry of frustration, punching his locker hard. It hurt, and his knuckles started to bleed, but all he could do was huff in anger as he felt tears sting his eyes. He’s getting tired of this kind of stuff happening, getting bullied and told he’d never be enough. God, this was so… frustrating! He felt like punching the locker again.

“Sho?” He stopped what he was about to do, instead turning to look at who called his name. The voice was concerned instead of spiteful, yet the sound of his name being called always filled him with some sort of anger, his brain immediately expecting someone to scold him or spite him.

But he didn’t see a mean face or face any cruelty, he just saw Yamada standing there looking at him with worry. He had one hand on the strap of his backpack and the other holding his phone, headphones around his neck; he was most likely about to put something on. He stepped forward, careful because he knew Shota was a bit heated at the moment, “Shota, are you alright? Do you-”

“I’m fine,” Shota snapped, cutting him off quickly. He clenched his fists again, but winced at the pain in his right hand, “I-”

He bit his lip to try and get his voice to stop shaking, but Yamada heard it. He also saw the wetness in his eyes, and that made him frown deeper. He looked down at Shota’s hands, seeing blood on the one. It was obvious Shota didn’t want to talk right now, or at least not here. Yamada stepped closer, reaching forward and trying to grab the dark-haired boy’s hand, but Shota pulled it back, as if offended. That hurt a bit, but Yamada didn’t mention it, “The roof is quiet, want to go up there?”

Shota brought his arm up, wiping his nose with his sleeve before mumbling, “We’re not allowed up there.”

Yamada shrugged, “What the teachers don’t know won’t hurt them. Now come on, I promise you’ll like it.”

Shota debated it for a moment. Though he’d known Yamada for a while now, he still was reluctant to trust him. He’d never had any friends before, he wasn’t even sure he could call Yamada and Shirakumo his friends. They were nice to him, but how long would that last? His hand hurt and he felt like sleeping for a year, but Yamada was still holding his hand out to him and it was inviting. Well, it’s not like he could be disappointed if Yamada ended up not liking him, it wouldn’t be surprising after all. So, he gave in and sighed, reaching out and taking Yamada’s hand gently, “Okay, fine.”

Yamada offered him a kind smile, “Great! Come on!”

Then he dragged him out of the locker room, squeezing his hand as they went. Aizawa was surprised by how eager he was, and the feeling of his palm against his was enough to make his face burn a little red.

Okay, maybe he’d be a little disappointed.

“Wait, Yamada! I don’t have my jacket or my shoes!” Shota told him as he was dragged up the steps.

Yamada looked over his shoulder at the shorter boy, offering him a smile, “That’s alright! We’re skipping class anyway, so there’s no point in keeping up with the dress code!”

And then he dragged him all the way up the steps, kicking open the door to the roof before dragging Shota outside. It was a bit chilly, the Fall weather crisp. It was a nice change from the stuffy locker room he was in. Yamada closed the door behind him before letting go of Shota’s hand and stepping forward and Shota had to admit to himself that he did feel a bit lost without Yamada’s hand in his.

Yamada took a seat on the ground, pulling his backpack off and starting to rummage through it, “Come sit down, Sho! I’ll fix your hand right up for ya!”

Shota blinked, “Huh?”

“I keep bandages in here because Shirakumo is always getting hurt and never takes care of himself, so it’s up to me to make sure he’s alright!” Yamada said, pulling out a roll of bandages, “Here we are! Come here!”

Shota used his good hand to rub at his opposite arm, a bit flustered thinking of Yamada holding his hand again. It did hurt though, it’d be nice to not have the cold air hitting his open wound any longer. So, he stepped forward and took a seat in front of Yamada, sitting cross legged just like him. Yamada reached out and took Shota’s hand tenderly, brushing his thumb over his scabbing knuckles. Shota’s face burned at the sensation and he averted his eyes, hiding behind his hair. Luckily, Yamada was a bit oblivious and didn’t really pay attention, instead pulling Shota’s hand closer and starting to wrap it up.

“Your hands are so cold, Shota. You should start bringing a pair of gloves to school during this weather,” Yamada told him, expertly wrapping his hand.

“It’s harder to use my capture weapon when I wear gloves,” Shota mumbled, still refusing to look at Yamada.

“Oh yeah! How’s that working out for you now that they’ve made you a real nice one?” Yamada asked, eyes focused on the other boy’s hand.

“Well, it’s definitely not easy and I’m not very good at it, I’m sure you’ve noticed,” He answered, pouting a bit.

But Yamada just shook his head, “I think you handle it great! You’ve been practicing with it for years haven’t you?”

“I guess… But it wasn’t really capturing, more like just playing around,” Shota said, blushing a bit; this is a bit embarrassing to talk about, “I was just a little kid dreaming of being a hero.”

“I feel ya! I used to get in so much trouble by the neighbors for yelling all the time! They didn’t understand I was just practicing!” Yamada rambled on before he finished wrapping Shota’s hand, tying it off; he smiled, “There! All done! How’s it feel?”

Shota lifted his hand, clenching his fist a couple of times before nodding, “It’s comfortable. Thanks.”

“No problem! You can always come to me for patching up!” Yamada said, jutting a thumb towards his chest, “Though, I’d rather you not get hurt so try to avoid that.”

Shota’s eyes widened with those words, and why did he feel all warm because of it? What the hell is going on? His heart was going a little faster than normal but he really couldn’t tell if that was because of the anxiety of what happened before he was brought up here or if it was because of the current situation. And why was he feeling so… weird about Yamada being nice to him? What is this feeling? Why are his hands shaking and why is his heart pounding and… And why is Yamada looking at him like that?

“Sho, you okay? You look a bit sick,” Yamada observed, tilting his head in concern.

Shota tried to explain but suddenly he was feeling rather panicked, his breathing becoming more difficult to control, “I-I don’t know, I- It’s hard to breathe, Yamada. Why is it hard to breathe?”

Yamada’s eyes widened, but he immediately recognized what was happening. He lifted his hands calmly, trying to ease Shota’s worries, “Hey, don’t worry, bro! I think you’re having a panic attack.”

Well, that sure didn’t make him feel at ease, “A panic attack?”

“Yeah, it’s alright! I have these all the time!” Yamada said, scooting a little closer, “Can I touch you?”

“W-What?” Shota didn’t know what was going on, he just knew it was getting increasingly harder to breathe.

Yamada shrugged, “Well, some people don’t like being touched during these so I was just wondering-”

Shota nodded, “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

Yamada smiled and nodded, scooting forward to sit just in front of him. He reached his hands out, gently placing them on Shota’s shoulders and trying to catch his eyes, “Have you ever had one of these before?”

Shota shook his head. Yamada was very calm about this whole thing, as if it were something he could navigate thoroughly, and that was weirdly calming. He did say he’s had these before, and Shota suddenly had a lot more respect for him because this was the worst. He felt like he was going to die.

“Do you have anything that makes you feel calm?” Yamada asked him gently.

Shota shook his head, raising his hands to cover his ears; everything suddenly seemed so loud, “No… I don’t know… It’s loud, everything is always too loud…”

Yamada’s eyes widened then, and obviously his quirk came to mind. He looked a bit horrified, and God, Shota did not mean him, “Am I too loud? I-I’m sorry, my quirk can be a real pain sometimes. I can just-”

When Yamada started to scoot back, Shota panicked. He reached forward, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling him back towards him, “No! Don’t go! Don’t leave me by myself…”

Yamada frowned, furrowing his eyebrows sadly, “Shota, if I-”

“You’re not too loud,” Shota whimpered, holding Yamada’s jacket so tight his knuckles turned white, “You’re never too loud…”

To Yamada, that was incredibly refreshing to hear. He calmed down when Shota told him that, and then he grabbed his hands and pulled them away from his jacket, instead holding them gently in his, “Alright, it’s okay. I’m staying here, okay?”

Shota took a shaky breath and nodded, “Can you just… Talk to me? Please?”

Yamada beamed and nodded, “Of course! Talking is my number one skill!”

He was joking around now and Shota appreciated that. He started rambling about his day, talking about what he had for breakfast, almost beating a car to the stop light because apparently he was incredibly quick, and then about Shirakumo getting his head stuck in a bucket. Those two really were stupid, but it was funny listening to the stories. Eventually Yamada moved both his hands to Shota’s left one, flipping it over to look at his palm and running his finger over the lines. Aaannd Shota is blushing again.

“Whoa, Shota! Your life line is really long! That means you're gonna live a long time!” Yamada said, stroking his finger over the line.

Shota was pretty sure he had no idea how to actually read palms, but he was starting to calm down so he went with it; he sniffled, “How long?”

“I don’t know, like. A hundred years probably!” Yamada said, then he ran his thumb along another line on his hand, “This is called your love line! Or, maybe it was heart line? No, love line sounds right! And oh man, Shota, it looks like you’ve got an excellent love life ahead of you! Who’s the lucky person? Keeping your secrets from me, huh?”

Shota was still blushing but was pretty sure he could play it off as it being from his crying, “Me? Romance? I don’t think so.”

“And why not? You’re a good guy! And pretty handsome too! People really fall for the mysterious guy thing, ya know?” Yamada tried to tell him and it was really just flustering Shota more.

“I-I don’t know…” Shota frowned, “Nobody’s ever really… liked me like that before. Or at all really.”

Wow, he didn’t mean to share that much. Yamada just hummed and tilted his head, looking at Shota’s face now, “Well, I like you! You should come over sometime! I got a lot of cool games and I need someone to show all my new albums to! Oh! I make my own music! Want to hear?”

He seemed very excited and did he just invite him over? He talked so fast it was hard to keep up sometimes. Shota found himself nodding, which made Yamada pretty happy. He let go of Shota’s hand, taking his headphones and leaning over to place them over Shota’s head before he grabbed his phone, “Oh, wait lemme turn that down for you. You said you don’t like loud noises.”

Then he leaned forward again, very close this time, and he reached behind the ear of one of the earpieces of the headphones to turn the volume down to a suitable level. His face was incredibly close to his, and now that they were this close Shota could see his eyes more clearly. His left one was a little droopy, the irises of both of them were golden and swirly. They were pretty.

“Ready?” Yamada asked, catching Shota’s eyes.

Shota almost squeaked. God, that would’ve been so embarrassing. He nodded, and Yamada smiled, sitting back and pressing play on his phone, starting the track. And Shota listened, and the beat was catchy but also held its own uniqueness to it so it wasn’t like anything he’d ever heard before. And there was singing too, and Shota was surprised by how soft the voice was, “Is this you singing?”

Yamada blushed a little and scratched the back of his head, ruffling his hair a little, “Y-Yeah. I’m a little pitchy, but I’m working on it.”

Shota shook his head, “N-No! This is good! You’re, uh, you’re a really good singer and musician, Hazashi.”

Yamada blushed a deeper shade of red, then he averted his eyes to hopefully avoid being further flustered, “O-Oh! Thanks! That means a lot!”

Shota smirked a little seeing how genuinely happy that seemed to make him, and then he listened to the rest of the song. When it was over, he handed Yamada his headphones back, “You’re really talented. Do you have a band?”

Yamada shook his head, smiling almost proudly when he said, “Nope! I played all of those instruments myself! Been learning them since I was a little kid!”

Shota’s eyes widened in surprise, “Wow. That’s really impressive.”

“Hehe, thanks!” Yamada giggled giddily, putting his headphones back around his neck, “Are you feeling better?”

Oh yeah, he was having a panic attack wasn’t he? He smiled a little and nodded, “Yeah… You uh, you made it better.”

Yamada’s face was still pink from before, but it turned a little darker at Shota’s words. He smiled nervously, but it was also genuine, “Well, that’s good to hear!”

Yamada was really nice, maybe he was being genuine and wanted to be his friend. He hadn’t made fun of him at all since they met, and he didn’t do a single thing wrong throughout this whole fiasco. He just tried to make him feel better. Maybe he could trust him. Maybe he could trust Shirakumo too.

Now that he was calmed down from his panic, he realized how chilly it was up here. He shivered a bit, wrapping his arms around himself, which obviously Yamada noticed, “Hey, what do you say we skip the rest of today’s classes and go get something to eat? Maybe we can go to the arcade or something, too!”

Shota furrowed his eyebrows, “Won’t we get in trouble?”

Yamada shrugged, getting to his feet and brushing his pants off, “If we get detention at least we’ll be spending it together!”

Shota looked up at him for a minute when he stuck his hand out to offer it to him, and then he smiled, “Well, I guess that wouldn’t be too bad.”

Yamada grinned right back as Shota took his hand, letting the taller boy help him to his feet. Shota brushed himself off too, then he looked at his bare feet. Well, he had socks on, but they were getting cold now without his shoes. He really could use his jacket right about now too. He always got cold so easily.

He caught Yamada’s eyes again and asked, “You think Shirakumo would want to come too?”

That seemed to make Yamada even happier, grin somehow getting bigger, “Of course, he would! Now if you want a guy who knows how to party, look no further than Shirakumo!”

Then they started back towards the door to go and get Shota’s things and to gather Shirakumo, Yamada rambling about anything and everything the whole trip. It made Shota feel nice, his anxiety forgotten for the moment.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

“God, he really got you bad this time,” Yamada said as he poked at the dark bruise around Shota’s left eye, making the other boy wince and smack the blonde’s hand away.

“I’m fine,” He assured him, leaning down to lace his shoes.

“You always say that, but are you really?” Oboro asked where he stood next to Yamada, frowning in concern.

Shota lifted his head a bit to narrow his eyes at Oboro behind his hair, “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I’m just saying that you get beat up pretty bad every training session. Sensoji’s doing this on purpose, ya know?” He said, moving his hands around a bit as he talked.

“Well yeah, no shit. He hates me,” Shota said, crossing his arms as he sat back up on the bench in between rows of lockers, “It’s fine though. I’ve dealt with this shit my whole life, this is no different.”

Both Yamada and Oboro frowned at that, sharing a look of concern. They knew Shota’s dealt with bullying in the past, but he’s told them he never really got beat up before he came here. Mostly just teased and pushed, but rarely if ever even hit. Sensoji used combat exercises to make it seem like he just got ‘accidentally carried away’ when he hit Shota too hard. He kept going home with bruises, and it wasn’t setting right.

Yamada stepped forward, reaching a hand out and placing it on Shota’s shoulder, “It’s getting worse, Sho. We should tell someone about this.”

Shota narrowed his eyes further, practically glaring at Yamada’s hand before looking into his eyes; Yamada pulled his hand away as if he’d been burned, “No, that will make it worse. I’m fine. Just drop it.”

He then stood, grabbing his bag and throwing it over his shoulder as he started towards the exit. Yamada called out for him though, “Sho-”

And then he was cut off by a little squeaking meow. Yamada froze, as did Shota, and both boys turned towards Oboro who was standing there looking at them as if he had no idea what was going on. Yamada raised an eyebrow, “Uhh, Shirakumo, you got something you want to share with the class?”

“Huh?” The boy seemed confused, as if he had no idea what they were talking about. And then, another meow came from his shirt, followed by a rustling around from inside it.

“Uh, Oboro, you’re-”

“Shirakumo, your boobs are meowing!” Yamada cried dramatically, pointing at Oboro’s chest.

Oboro smiled then, as if realization had just struck, “Oh! Those aren’t my boobs, Yamada! That’s just Sushi!”

Then he reached inside of his shirt and pulled out the little black kitten that they’d found about a month ago. Shota’s eyes lit up and his expression softened when he saw the cat that had grown a little since the last time he saw it, and suddenly he felt the tension release from his shoulders. Yamada and Oboro seemed to notice, and suddenly Yamada’s arm was around Shota’s shoulders, “Oh hey! You didn’t get to see Sushi last time Nemuri brought him around cuz you were out sick!”

“Here Sho, want to hold him? I’m sure he missed you,” Oboro offered, holding the cat out to the boy who was staring at it in awe.

Shota really kind of wanted to go home, feeling a bit burnt out today, but there was a cat here now and he could never pass up an opportunity to pet a cat. He dropped his bag onto the ground, “Fine. But just for a second.”

Sure, he was playing it off as if he were disinterested, but the other two could tell he was happy that Sushi was here. Oboro handed the cat to Shota, who took it gently and cradled it in his arms. He scratched the cat on top of the head, and he was pleased with how calm it always was when he held it. The other two always thought it was sweet how gentle Sushi was when Shota held him.

“What are you doing with him anyway? Shouldn’t he be with Nemuri?” Shota asked, petting the cat’s belly as he looked at Oboro with a questioning expression.

“Nemuri’s going out of town for the weekend and asked if I could look after him! Well, she was gunna ask you but couldn’t find you, so she asked the next person she could find which just so happened to be me!” Oboro said, jutting a thumb proudly towards himself.

She must’ve asked him when Shota was busy hiding in the janitor's closet. He fell asleep in there by accident, too. He just needed a little peace and quiet sometimes, okay? He frowned, looking down at Sushi as he continued to pet him; the cat was purring, he could feel it rumbling against his chest.

“Hey, you guys want to come over tonight and help me watch the little guy? We can also watch that new scary movie I picked up yesterday!” Oboro suggested.

“Yeahhhh! I’m totally down!” Yamada said excitedly before whipping his head around so hard it made Shota wince, “What about you, Sho?”

“Oh, um…” He really would’ve liked to hang out with them, and also see Sushi, but he wasn’t feeling well after today and he kind of just wanted to go home and sleep, “I’m kind of tired, I think I’m just gonna go home and get some rest,” The other two seemed disappointed, so he added, “But if I change my mind I’ll call you.”

“Well, alright-” Then Shota was handing the cat back to Oboro before grabbing his bag again and waving a hand goodbye.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Then he left, leaving the other two to stand in the locker room, concern still resting over them.

He didn’t want to leave them like that, but he really didn’t feel like socializing much more today. His brain was tired, and so was his body. He started his internship with an agency last week and he’s dealing with Sensoji being a bully, so he thought it was pretty understandable to be a little tired and stressed. The other two were such balls of sunshine and it seemed so hard for them to be kicked down for too long, but he’d always been different. He was getting better though, he thought. Those two were always cheering him on and cheering him up. He was glad to have them as friends, but even still he needed some alone time sometimes.

So, he headed home, shivering in the chilly fall air. Halloween would be soon, and Yamada loved Halloween, so did Oboro. They’d probably try to get him to dress up in matching costumes or something, and he’d probably reluctantly agree. Oh well, as long as he didn’t have to dress up as something embarrassing he was fine with it.

He arrived home after about twenty minutes of walking and a train ride, and when he stepped inside he alerted his mother that he had gotten here safely as he did every day, “Mom! I’m home!”

He didn’t receive a response, but he ignored it. He wiped his shoes on the mat before removing them and placing them with his mothers by the door, then he dropped his bag and stepped into the tiny living room. They’d had to move somewhere else after his Dad left, his Mom having to work two jobs to even afford to put food on the table. She did a great job and took great care of him, he’d always be thankful to her.

He walked around into the kitchen, finding his mother cooking something over the stove. She had just gotten home from her second job maybe half an hour before, and she was already cooking dinner for the two of them. She never stopped working.

“Hey Mom, what’re you making?” Shota asked as he stepped closer, trying to peer over her shoulder.

She flinched a bit, seeming surprised he was here, “Oh, Shota! I didn’t even realize you were home! When did you get here?”

He furrowed his eyebrows curiously, “I just got in. Did you not hear me let you know when I walked in?”

“Oh… No, I suppose I didn’t,” She blinked, seeming a bit out of it, “I’m sorry, Shota. It’s been a long week, I’m very tired and my hearing isn’t what it used to be.”

She did seem extra tired this week, and he was feeling similar, so he didn’t give her a hard time about it, “That’s alright.”

“Shota, what happened to your eye?” She suddenly looked horrified, turning around and leaving the dinner unattended for a moment as she reached her hands up to grab his face, turning his head so she could inspect the bruise around his left eye, “Who did this to you?!”

Shota tried to brush it off, frowning and looking somewhat irritated, “It’s nothing, just got a little rough in combat training today, that’s all.”

She frowned and looked at him for a moment, “Are you sure that’s all?”

He smiled tiredly to reassure her, “Yes, that’s all that happened. It’ll be healed up in no time.”

She frowned, but she seemed to take that as an answer for now, though she didn’t seem pleased. She released his face though, so it was good enough for him, “Okay, if you say so. Go put your things away and get changed. Dinner will be ready soon.”

She turned back to making dinner, and Shota watched her strangely for a minute. She seemed extra disgruntled today, more than he’d ever seen her. Last time she’d even gotten angry was when his father hit him when he was in primary school. He tried to ignore it though and went upstairs to change out of his school uniform, and when he came back downstairs dinner was on the table. He took a seat across from her, sitting silently as she set the bowl of soba on the table. He reached for the spoon to put some on his plate, and as he did he caught her looking at him curiously.

“Something wrong?” He asked.

She shook her head, adjusting her napkin in her lap, “No, it’s nothing, I’m just… Shota, you’ve been coming home with more bruises than usual lately. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

He was getting really tired of talking about this. He sighed audibly and scooped some soba onto his plate, “I told you, it’s nothing. Combat training, that’s-”

“That’s what you always say,” She told him sternly, cutting him off, “And if you’re telling me the truth, then that school isn’t doing very well in holding other students back from going too far.”

Shota narrowed his eyes, “What do you mean if I’m telling the truth? You don’t believe me?”

“No, Shota, it’s not that, it’s just-” She stopped to take a deep breath, then she continued, “I know your luck with other students throughout your life, I just want to make sure you’re not being targeted.”

He was getting really tired of talking about this. He’d been picked on his whole life, why was it now suddenly such a big deal to everyone? He clenched his fists to try and calm himself, his temper always having been a little short, “What do you want me to say, Mom? That I’m being bullied? Alright, fine. I’m being beat up by some jerk in Class B, happy now?”

She seemed shocked by his tone, eyes widening as she sat back a little, “Shota, I-”

“I wish everyone would stop making such a big deal out of it, because it’s not,” Shota snapped, “I’ll handle it, so stop worrying about me.”

She sat in silence for a minute, taking that in. He didn’t usually get short with her. He got temperamental with pretty much everyone else, but never with her. Her bottom lip trembled and she clenched her fists too. He got his temperament from somewhere, and it wasn’t just from his father, “Shota, I’m your mother! I’m allowed to be worried about you and I’m going to voice when I am!”

He lifted his head when she snapped, not expecting it. His expression of irritation was gone now though, and now he was looking at her in surprise as she went on, “If you’re being bullied by another student, then I need you to tell someone about it or I am!”

Okay, now he was mad again. He glared at her this time, raising his voice, “That’s just going to make it worse, why doesn’t anybody understand that?!”

“How would that make it worse, Shota?!” She pleaded with him.

“Well, they’re not going to expel him or anything and he’ll know who reported him and then he’ll just make my life even more of a living hell than it already is!” He yelled.

“You have to do something! I’m tired of you coming home beat up all of the time!” She snapped back, “Just last week you broke your arm and it was only because of that healing hero you have school that you healed so quickly!”

“That wasn’t bullying related, that was from my internship,” He grumbled, avoiding her eyes now.

“That’s not making me happy either, Shota!” She kept on, “You’re always getting hurt, and you don’t seem to know how to combat it! Maybe you really shouldn’t have become a hero after all!”

As soon as she said it, she regretted it. As soon as she saw his face, she regretted it. He looked absolutely taken aback that she of all people had said that to him. Even worse, he looked hurt. She’d hurt him and that was something she swore she would never do, she wouldn’t do what his father did. And now here she was, breaking her promises.

She had slapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide in shock. She shook her head, pulling her hands away just barely so she could speak, “Shota, that’s not what I-”

His chair slid back violently as he suddenly stood, bowing his head and leaving the room, refusing to speak another word to her. She called out to him, but he didn’t really even hear her, not that he would have replied anyway. Everything was fuzzy, his ears were ringing. Once again everything was too loud. He grabbed his shoes and slipped them on haphazardly before he left the house, slamming the door behind him. He started walking, pulling his phone out of his pocket with shaking hands and looking for the number he wanted to dial. He was so tired and everything was blurry and it wasn’t until he couldn’t read Yamada’s caller ID that he realized he was crying. He pushed CALL anyway and waited for his friend to pick up.

Which didn’t take long.

“Hey Shoooota! How’s it hanging, my guy?! Change your mind, after all?” He was yelling and Shota flinched, but he didn’t mention that and instead spoke with his own shaky voice.

“Are you at Oboro’s house?” He asked, hand shaking as he tried to keep the phone from slipping out of his grasp so he could hear Yamada’s voice which was now softer as he realized Shota was upset.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Yamada said, sounding a lot more serious and gentle now, “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Shota sniffled and wiped at his nose in annoyance as he marched down the sidewalk in tapering anger that was slowly morphing into sadness and disappointment, “Me and Mom had a fight. C-Can I come over and see Sushi?”

He could practically see Yamada’s frantic nodding on the other end of the line, “Yeah, of course you can! I’ll let Shirakumo know you’re coming over, alright? Wait, do you want me to come get you? Your neighborhood isn’t-”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be there soon,” Then he hung up and shoved his phone back into his pocket, making his way over to Oboro’s house.

Oboro lived a little bit of a distance away, and his legs were nearly killing him when he reached his house. He was so tired and his chest hurt from trying to keep the sobs contained, and when he knocked on the door it was immediately answered by the blonde who he’d been on the phone with just a few minutes ago.

He looked so worried, opening and closing his mouth as if he didn’t know what to say. Shota wasn’t sure what it was, but just the sight of him made the floodgates open. He whimpered when he spoke, “‘Zashi…”

Then he started crying and stepped forward, Yamada quickly wrapping him up in a hug. Shota wasn’t usually one for physical affection, so Yamada had never felt him grip so tight. His hands were twisting his shirt, his face pressed against his shoulder as he finally let himself cry. Yamada held him close, leaning his head against his and rubbing his back, “Hey, it’s alright. Come in, okay? It’s getting cold out.”

He helped Shota inside, closing the door behind him so the cold air would stop getting in. Shota sniffled and pulled away, wiping at his face with his sweater sleeves, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to ruin your guys’ scary movie night with this.”

He just now noticed Oboro was here too, looking at him with concern and holding Sushi in his arms, scratching him on top of the head. Yamada waved a hand around, brushing his comment aside, “Hey, the night is young! Besides, you couldn’t ruin anything for us! We’re glad you’re here!”

“Yeah! We love having you over, Sho!” Oboro stepped forward then, “And so does Sushi!”

He held the cat out with a big contagious smile on his face, and Shota couldn’t help but smirk a little right back at him, “Thanks Oboro.”

He took Sushi from him and held him close, nuzzling his cheek against the cat’s soft fur. Yamada patted him on the shoulder gently, “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

Shota nodded, sniffling again. He removed his shoes and followed his friends upstairs to Oboro’s room, going to sit on the floor where he always did, back pressed against the bed as he cuddled Sushi. Yamada and Oboro joined him, and that’s when Yamada asked the burning question.

“Want to talk about what happened, Sho?” His expression was curious and concerned, but he wouldn’t push it if Shota didn’t want to talk about it. But for some reason tonight, he didn’t mind.

He shrugged, “Mom said something stupid, that’s all.”

“What happened?” Oboro asked, crossing his arms and watching Shota curiously.

Shota scratched Sushi between the ears as he answered that question, “She noticed the bruise and started pressing me to report the bullying and I told her I didn’t want to because that would make it worse… You guys understand that, right?”

They both nodded, Yamada speaking up, “Yeah, you’re afraid he’d start picking on you worse, right?”

Shota nodded, relieved they seemed to understand his reasoning, “Yeah, exactly. Then she mistook that my broken arm last week was caused by the bullying, so I corrected her, then she said…”

Man, it hurts to think about now. He felt his eyes burn again. He really never thought he’d hear his mother say something like that to him. Yamada tilted his head in curiosity, “She said what?”

Shota sniffled and hugged Sushi closer to himself, “She said I don’t know how to fight back and maybe I should have never become a hero after all…”

Well, that silenced them. It made him kind of nervous. He didn’t like loud noises, but dead silence gave him a different kind of anxiety. He didn’t have to sit in it too though, because now Yamada being the clingy sap he always was, was hugging him again.

“You’re doing great, Shota! Me and Shirakumo here are really proud of ya! So don’t listen to what she says! Or anyone else for that matter!” Yamada said, trying to cheer him up.

Shota relaxed in Yamada’s arms, sniffling again as he leaned his head against the blonde’s. Oboro spoke next, “Yeah! You’ve been working really hard and we see how much better you’re getting! Your quirk isn’t combat related, so you gotta learn all these new things a lot of us don’t have to, that must be a lot of hard work and you’re just soaring through it with flying colors!”

Shota snickered a little sadly, but amused, “I don’t know about that-”

“Group hug!” Oboro suddenly collapsed onto Shota, wrapping his arms around him.

It startled him and he cried out when they all suddenly fell onto the floor. Sushi wiggled out of Shota’s arms and skittered off to avoid getting crushed by the sunshine boys attacking their sad friend with hugs. Shota complained, though lightheartedly, “Hey! I was holding Sushi!”

Oboro laughed, “Well, now you’re holding us!”

He wasn’t really holding anyone considering his arms were pinned on either side of him as he laid on his back and looked up at the ceiling irritably. Despite feigning annoyance though, he was already feeling better. He doesn’t know how they do it, but these two always made him happy. It was like all of those years he was missing parts of himself and these two were the missing pieces of his puzzle. Shota started giggling, this whole day a complete disaster and now here he was on Oboro’s floor being comfortably held by his two best friends.

“Let me up, you assholes,” Shota complained, though he was still giggling so it was hard to sound threatening.

“But we’re hugging our boy!” Oboro cheered.

“Yeah Shota! Don’t ruin the boy hugging session, especially when it’s our favorite boy!” Yamada cut in.

“Oh, our favorite boy, huh?” Oboro teased, looking over at Yamada, “Sho-chan is quite the good boy, don’t get me wrong,” He patted Shota on the face with his hand, and Shota shook his head to avoid getting poked in the eye, “But who’s to say my favorite boy isn’t myself?”

“You’re not that self-absorbed,” Yamada rolled his eyes.

“Oh, of course! But Yamada, isn’t Sho the only one who calls you Zashi? Maybe that’s why he’s your favorite boy?” Yamada blushed as Obori kept egging it on with no mercy, but luckily for him Shota wasn’t really listening and was focused on struggling to get out of their grasp.

“What the hell are you two talking about?” He finally got one of his arms free, so he pushed his hand to Oboro’s face and pushed him off of him before he easily slid out from underneath Yamada, “Fuck, I’m free. Where’s Sushi?”

“I’ll go get him for you!” Yamada said, sitting up too.

“Oh, thanks,” Shota said, smoothing out his sweater where it’d been crumpled by the hug pile. Then he felt something warm press against his cheek and his eyes widened when he turned to see Yamada pulling away, having given him a kiss on the face.

Yamada was blushing, but he was smiling big too, “Keep up the good work, Sho! I’ll be right back!”

Then he got up to go search for the cat that ran off. Shota brought a hand up to his face, fingers brushing against the area Yamada had kissed him. He kept his eyes on him as the boy walked off and he felt his own face heat up. Oboro pretended to be busy himself, but he saw what happened. So he kept his smile to himself and looked for that movie they were going to watch.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

It wasn’t long after that night that tragedy struck. They had been on a normal patrol during their internship when a villain came out of nowhere. Sure enough, Shota was able to defeat the villain and had been incredibly proud of himself. He’d proved himself to be a capable hero, and that was great. But his pride and celebrating didn’t last long, as soon after he’d discovered the fate of his friend.

Shirakumo Oboro was killed in combat in his hero agency internship at the age of seventeen. It was a rare thing to happen, getting killed in an internship, but it did happen sometimes. Shota had cried harder than he ever had that day, and after that he was never the same. He became more withdrawn and for a while he didn’t talk to anybody aside from giving short answers. Yamada tried to go see him, but he never came out of his room.

The one year anniversary of Shirakumo’s death, their third year at UA, that was the day Yamada had had enough of… whatever this was. Shota had been angry and mean lately, and he couldn’t stand it anymore. It was hurting everyone around him. His mother, his friends, and himself. He needed to do something before he fell so deep into this dark pit he’d found himself in or he’d never get him back.

Shota wouldn’t be the same as before again, but he wanted to save some part of him from leaving. He had to.

So, on that day Yamada showed up at his door, knocking loudly and calling for Shota to answer, “Shota! Open up!”

Of course though, there was no answer. His mother wasn’t home right now, she picked up a new job on the weekends, so Shota spent his time alone now for the most part.

“Shota! Come on! I will kick open this door!” Well, he wouldn’t. His Mom couldn’t afford a new one, and then his parents would have to pay for it and they’d be pissed at him if they knew he broke someone else’s door.

He sighed when he still got no answer, and he reached down to twist the doorknob. Locked. Shit. He sighed and stepped back, looking up at the house, then he remembered there’s a big tree in Shota’s backyard, perfect for climbing into a window. So, he walked around the house, hopping over the fence and going towards the tree. It was an easy climb, especially for someone who’s been building muscle in hero training for three years.

He climbed to the top, scooting down a branch and peering in the window closest. It was Shota’s room and he could see him lying on the bed from here, and he did not look to be in good condition. He pushed his fingers under the ledge of the window, finding it unlocked thankfully, and sliding it up before clambering into the bedroom.

“Sho! What happ- Whoa!” Then he fell face first onto the ground.

Shota startled, sitting up quickly and glaring at Yamada on the floor, “Yamada, what are you doing in here?!”

Yamada picked himself up slowly, a little dizzy as he fixed his glasses, “Sorry, I was just coming to… to talk to you.”

Shota relaxed his shoulders, then he went to lay back down, “I’m fine. Now go home and leave me alone.”

Yamada was on his feet now, and when it registered in his mind what Shota said he became suddenly angry. He was getting tired of this, “Shota, I’m not leaving here until we’ve talked about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, now go away,” Shota snapped, not facing him.

He wasn’t dealing with this, not today. It’s been a year like this, and it wasn’t going to continue this way. He stormed over to the bed, grabbing Shota’s bare shoulder and pulling him to get him to face him, “Look at me and talk! You can’t keep going on like this!”

Shota sat up again, glaring at the blonde, “I can do whatever I want! Why is everyone so adamant on getting me to open up about everything?! Has a single one of you thought that maybe I don’t want to talk about it?!”

“Fine, then don’t talk about it! But maybe you should think about not treating everyone who cares about you like shit!” Yamada snapped, pointing a finger in Shota’s face.

Shota looked pissed, “I don’t-”

But he wasn’t going to allow him to deny this any longer, “You do! You ignore everyone for the most part and when we do try to talk to you all you can do is get mad at us or tell us to leave you alone! I haven’t seen you smile for a year Shota! I’ve barely seen my best friend for a year! And when I do see you, you look like you’ve just been through hell! Like, what is all of this?! Did you get mugged or something?!”

Shota was quiet for a minute, surprised Yamada went off on him like that. Yamada has never yelled at him before. He looked down at himself, the freshly healing wounds on his stomach and upper arms, “No, I didn’t. I’m-”

“Stop saying you’re fine when you’re not fine!” Yamada went on, looking at the wounds on his best friend, “Did you get hurt during a fight with a villain?!”

“No!” Shota snapped back.

“Then what the hell happened?!” Yamada yelled, gesturing to him, “Did you do this to yourself?!”

When he was met with silence, Yamada froze. His eyes widened in horror and he took a faltering step back, “Shota…”

“Just go away, Yamada. Not everyone is as open about their grief as you are,” He went to roll back over again, but Yamada couldn’t let him, not when he was getting so close to breaking through the barrier.

He grabbed his arm again, stopping him and making him look at him, “Shota, please… Talk to me…”

He tried to tear his arm out of Yamada’s grasp, “Did you not hear what I just said? Please, get the fuck out.”

Yamada felt tears burning his eyes. He was so tired of this, so tired of being treated like shit by the one person he had left. Shirakumo and Shota were the only two people he ever felt truly close to and now one of them was gone and the other one was trying to push him away, and it hurt. So bad. He never tried as hard to hide his tears, so he let them slip freely down his face in front of Shota as he pleaded with him.

He grabbed ahold of both of his shoulders, bowing his head as he cried and begged, “Please, Shota! I can’t do this anymore!”

Shota furrowed his eyebrows, looking up at Yamada, seeming confused, “What are you-”

“It hurts, Sho… You never talk to me anymore, you never smile. I haven’t gotten to hug you in ages. For a while I thought it was okay, you needed some space, but now…” He sniffled, lifting his head again to catch Shota’s eyes, “I just want my best friend back!”

Shota didn’t really know what to say to that. Yamada was incredibly upset and Shota was as well to know he’s the one causing some of this pain. But he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know how to cope with this. Grieving was hard. When his Dad left… Well, he never really dealt with that. His Dad was a bad person, he knew that, but he was still his father and he never dealt with him leaving. Oboro… He was the first one he’s ever had to deal with and it was like being left a second time was causing all of those previous emotions to stir up and he felt like that seven-year-old kid again scared and alone, wondering what to do next.

How could he become a hero without Shirakumo? How could he be who he wanted to be without him?

“Sho, you’ve got me,” Yamada spoke again, and Shota’s eyes widened. Had he said all of that out loud? Yamada tightened his grip on Shota’s shoulders, “I’m right here.”

Shota felt his eyes burn, and he didn’t know how to react. He was sad and he felt lonely and he was so angry. He hated this, he hated this so much and he didn’t know what to do with all of this rage he felt and it hurt so much and-and-- He pushed Yamada, standing up as the other boy stumbled back.

“Nobody gets it! I know we all cope in different ways, but why is it so hard for me to move past this?!” Shota yelled, not really even thinking as he spoke anymore, “Every day I wake up and for a second I think he’s still here! That I can go to school and he’ll be there floating on his stupid cloud and telling me a dumb joke! And then I remember he’s not and everything sucks again and I feel so hopeless and lonely! I can’t do it anymore, Yamada! It hurts too much and being with you hurts too!”

Yamada wasn’t expecting him to say that, and his expression turned sad, “W-What do you mean? Why would you-”

“Being with you reminds me of being a trio but there is no trio anymore!” He continued on and on, “It’ll never be the same and I don’t know why you’re trying so hard to make it feel like it may be, all you’re doing is lying to yourself! Shirakumo is dead, Yamada! He’s dead and he’s not coming back! He’s- He’s not-”

He slumped his shoulders, bowing his head to hide his tears as he suddenly began to sob, as if he’d been holding that in for way too long and just couldn’t do it anymore. He finally let it all out, and while some of it was hurtful, Yamada was glad. Shota brought his hands to hair, pulling on it nervously as he continued to cry, and Yamada’s expression softened as he stepped forward.

He pulled the shorter boy’s hands out of his hair gently, pulling them back down to his sides and sliding his own hands up Shota’s arms gently, “It’s alright, it’s alright…”

“I’m sorry, Hizashi… I-I’m sorry…” He sobbed, and that’s when Yamada pulled him into the first hug they’ve had since the day Shirakumo died.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry too… I should’ve reached out sooner,” Yamada said, holding him close and rubbing his back to sooth him.

Shota shook his head, “You did, I just kept pushing you away! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Yamada felt his heart break a little more every time Shota spoke in that sad, terrified voice, the words he was saying hurting even more. He didn’t want them to be like this anymore, they both had to make an effort to make this work. They could cope with this grief better if they did it together, and from now on that’s what they’d do. Yamada ran his hand through Shota’s tangled mess of hair and shushed him, “It’s okay, Sho.”

“Please don’t leave me! I can’t take it again, please don’t go!” He continued to sob, not making a lot of sense anymore.

Yamada placed his hands on the dark-haired boy’s shoulders, pushing him back just a little and very gently, but firm enough to get his attention. Shota’s Dad left, Shirakumo was gone, he was afraid of losing someone else he loved. Yamada had to make sure he knew that wouldn’t be the case, “I’m not going anywhere alright? I love you.”

Shota was hiccuping on his breath, panicking a little if the heaving of his chest and his shaking limbs said anything. It wasn’t the dream scenario Yamada always dreamed of, but he didn’t care, nothing ever turned out as planned. They learned that the hard way.

He grabbed Shota’s face gently, leaning in and pressing his lips to his. Shota didn’t even seem surprised, just desperate. His hands gripped Yamada’s jacket tight, pulling him as close as he could get him. Yamada was gentler, not wanting to startle him. A hand fell to his shoulder, and he let the other one glide down to Shota’s side, tugging him closer gently. Shota made a noise that sounded like a sob against his mouth, and that’s when Yamada pulled away. Shota was still crying, shoulders quaking as Yamada grabbed his face again and tilted his head back so he could look at him.

“I’m not leaving you, I never will. I promise,” Yamada told him sternly, “Got that?”

Shota nodded, still hiccuping on his sobs, “Y-Yeah.”

“Good,” The blonde said, tucking a strand of Shota’s hair behind his ear and then he offered him a sad smile, “Now come here.”

Then he pulled him into a hug again, holding him close and promising to never let go.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

“Aizawa-sensei! Can I put some lights up there?” Midoriya asked his teacher, rushing over to him and pointing up towards the stairwell.

He looked up towards it briefly and then answered deadpan, “I don’t care, just be careful.”

Midoriya grinned and nodded, “I will! Thanks sensei!”

Then he rushed off to help Uraraka with wrapping lights around the banister. Aizawa kept his hands stuffed into his pockets as he looked around at the current state of the decorations. The class wanted to go all out and decorate their dorms for Halloween, and so far it was looking pretty good.

These kids sure were extra though.

“Hey! A little help over here!” A new voice called, which made him turn his attention towards the door.

“Toshi!” Denki called, rushing towards the door and grabbing some boxes from Shinsou who was struggling to manage all of the weight; they set them down somewhere before Denki turned towards the purple-haired boy, smiling brightly, “So? Whatcha think?”

Shinsou looked around, inspecting the place, then with his usual deadpan look and voice he replied, “It actually doesn’t look bad.”

“Thank you- Wait, why do you sound so surprised?!” Denki acted offended.

Shinsou actually laughed before patting the blonde on the back, “Come on, it looks like Midoriya and the floaty girl need some help with the lights,” Then they started to walk over to help, Shinsou smiling and waving at Aizawa as they passed, “Good afternoon, Aizawa-sensei.”

“Shinsou,” He nodded in greeting at him, watching him go to help the others.

The arrival of Shinsou was followed by the arrival and two other certain someone's, which Aizawa learned the presence of when a high-pitched voice cried out in excitement when she stepped into the room, “Sho-chaaaaaan!”

Aizawa turned just in time to see Eri rushing towards him, and he braced himself as she ran into his legs, hugging him before grinning up at him happily, “Oh, hello Eri.”

“Sho-chan! We made cookies for you!” She exclaimed excitedly.

“We?” He questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, of course! And who other than the super badass Dad of the year than meeeee!” Oh yes, of course. Yamada.

Aizawa looked up to see Yamada putting on the dramatics while gloating about making cookies, then he marched over, “You didn’t burn them this time, I hope.”

“So rude! No, of course not! Eri was there to help me this time, so no mess ups!” He said, “Here, take a gander!”

Then he cracked open the lid and showed Aizawa what was inside. Inside the tin box were about a dozen cookies all shaped and decorated like cats. Well, that’s just adorable, “Well, these are just so cute I almost think I’d feel bad eating them.”

He pulled a cookie out of the tin to look at it as Eri stepped back and stomped her foot down, “You have to eat them! We made those with lots of love!”

“Oh, well if that’s the case I guess I don’t have a choice,” Aizawa said before taking a bite of the cookie. They were pretty good this time around since Yamada decided to pay attention to the oven this time, “Wow, these are the best cookies I’ve ever had.”

Eri threw her hands up in excitement, celebrating, “Yay!”

Aizawa smiled at that, and he heard Mina yell directly after, “Oh em gee! He smiled and totally not in a creepy way!”

Usually he would’ve glared at them, but he was feeling unusually good today. Maybe it was the cheerful atmosphere, or maybe it was because everyone he loved was here around him, or maybe it was because he knew they were all safe in that moment. Whatever it was, it made him laugh. It wasn’t a loud laugh, it was hardly even noticeable, but his students noticed it and they all seemed incredibly surprised.

“And he laughed!” Several of them cried, pointing at him in awe.

Yamada threw an arm around his shoulders, smiling teasingly, “Man, just how much of a hardass are you in class that they’ve never heard you laugh? I knew it was bad but damn Shota.”

Shota elbowed him in the ribs playfully, which only made Yamada chuckle, “Shut up, jackass.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’ve got a reputation to uphold, I understand,” Yamada said, backing away in surrender, “Come on, Eri! Let’s go help with the pumpkin carving!”

She nodded enthusiastically, following after him as they ran outside, the other students hearing him and excitedly following after, shouts of “I wanna carve a pumpkin!” and “Ooh, me too!” sounding out. Aizawa sighed. Well, guess he can’t avoid it.

“Hold on, let me get the camera!” And then he followed his family outside.