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He was running.
He was sprinting as fast as he possibly could.
His lungs were on fire as an intense panicked burn at his veins, fueling him.
Faster!
Despite the speeds at which he ran and the overwhelming feeling of despair he felt, he couldn’t remember where it was, he was going...
Not fast enough…
Hurry up!
Help him, Hizashi!
He busted through the looming front doors of UA and there on the floor before him, was his Husband, crumbled in a bloody heap, surrounded by a Shadowy mist.
He froze on the spot.
Before he could register his actions, he took in a deep breath and screamed a name, his quirk activated.
"Oboro!"
The mist was forced back to reveal his childhood friend, Oboro, a gaping head wound leaking blood down his sickly-looking skin.
"You couldn't save either of us." The boy cried out, voice booming off the walls around them.
Then his body crumpled to the floor beside Shouta's.
A cry tore from Hizashi’s lips as he sprinted towards them, falling to his knees near their bodies, his pants were instantly soaked in a mixture of both their blood.
"No, no, no"
Sobs fell from his lips as he held Shouta and Oboro as close to him, not realizing how odd it was for them all to be reverted back to teenagers.
A ghostly howl of a disembodied voice moaned around them.
How tragic!
They died so young!
Why did the blonde one survive?
He squeezed his eyes shut as he cried in complete despair as he wept for his loses, his best friends.
Why did I survive?
A strong breeze swept by, chilling his skin causing goosebumps to arise on his exposed flesh.
He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself for warmth, as he glanced up and found himself on UA's rooftop, alone.
He stared down onto the clean roof where he could have sworn something important was just laying...
What am I missing?
The sound of teenagers laughing rang across the abandoned rooftop causing a tears to stream down his cheeks. He wiped at his cheeks in confusion.
Why am I crying?
"Papa?"
He jumped, surprised at the sudden sound, before twirling on the spot to seek it source.
There.
There was a boy with a shock of purple standing over the safety railing on the roofs edge. Panic set in, a jumper.
"Hey-"
The boy tilted forward, free falling towards his death.
His hero instincts kicked in as he ran to the edge, arm outstretched to just try and grab the boy, his boy, but it was too late.
"Hitoshi!" He screamed for his son as he watched him tumble toward the ground. Suddenly everything froze, Hitoshi inches from the unforgiving cement and seconds from his death.
Hitoshi opened his closed eyes, the beautiful vibrant purple was swimming in a sea of tears, yet a small smile tugged at his lips.
"It's okay" his voice echoed "I choose this."
"No, Hitoshi, why?" Hizashi sobbed, anguish like no other burned through him, it disintegrated him from the inside out leaving him hallow and void.
"Dad died in the USJ, He didn't save me"
What?
The flashes of a dark-haired man flashed before his mind's eye, laughing alongside a purple haired boy. On both of their shoulder sat twin bandages, the symbol of their relationship. The older man patted the boys head, his dark eyes twinkling causing the scar beneath right eye to shift.
The scar. One of many but this one had a meaning, a symbol of its own.
A symbol of survival.
"Shouta didn't-"
Time began once more and Hizashi watched as Hitoshi made impact with his fate.
"No!"
...
Hizashi blinked, confused as he took in his surroundings, he was in a classroom.
Dozens of faceless students stared straight ahead at him. He looked down and saw a single clipboard in his hands, the roll call. He squinted his eyes as he tried to read a single name from the paper but it was to no avail, his eyes wouldn't focus.
He heard the scraping of chairs as the 'students' all stood up simultaneously.
Frighten, he snapped his head up to see the room void of another being and all objects. The tables, students, even the posters around the room were gone, save for a single desk in the direct centre of the room. He looked back down at the clipboard, there was only one word on the paper now.
He still couldn't read it, the words seemingly melting of the paper, but he knew what name he had to call.
He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders before he spoke in a frightened and hesitant tone.
"Shinsou Hitoshi?"
It was silent for a beat before loud voices assaulted his senses.
"It's tragic isn't it?"
"He died so young?"
"Did you know he was in foster care?"
"I heard he was beaten?"
"He took all the hits so the younger kids were safe, a natural hero "
"He was so young."
"If only someone could have done something."
"He died so young"
"He died so young"
"He died so young"
"Why didn't anyone do something?!" The voices screamed louder and louder as tears streamed out of Hizashi's green eyes as he clutched his chest.
Hitoshi was dead.
His son was dead?
He crumbled to the floor with a wail.
"Not your son!" A voice sounding suspicious like his own hissed. "Shouta didn't save him because you didn't save Shouta."
"Shouta died young"
"Shouta died young"
"You didn't save him"
He squeezed his hands over his ears as he begged and pleaded for them to stop.
His legs gave out beneath him, his knees cracking against the cold floor.
A spotlight flashed onto the lone desk before him.
"He died young."
Hitoshi's beaten and bruised body laid limp on the desk.
"He died young."
Shouta's glassy dead eyes stared back at him as he took Hitoshi's space on the desk.
"He died young."
Oboro sat at the desk now.
His corpses still oozing blood from his head wound.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Hizashi cried, losing control of his quirk as his voice cracked, he heard the sound of a window shattering nearby.
"It's okay." Came the familiar voice of his childhood friend. Oboro stood over him, eyes vacant and skin unnaturally pale.
"I'm so sorry, Oboro!" He cried; he clutched the boy's pants legs. The boy didn't react, just continued to stare at him. "I failed and now they're dead."
"There are things worse than death, Hizashi." Oboro laughed, it was broken and horrible sound.
Worse than death? Hizashi bitterly pondered. What could be worse than the violent deaths Shouta and Hitoshi experienced?
He felt a small shift above him causing him to glance up at Oboro and gasp in horror.
As quick as he could, he scrambled backwards, struggling to put distance between him and the Nomu before him.
Kurogiri.
"What-"
Bang!
Suddenly the classroom walls surrounding them exploded causing debris to fly everywhere. He was disorientated, a high pitch ringing, not unlike when he overused his quirk on his own ear, screamed through his skull. All he could do was curled in on himself, throwing his hands over his head as he waited for the disturbance to stop.
When the ringing eventually subsided and his hearing returned, he heard a series of aggressive thumps surrounding him. The sounds of thousands of feet running all around him in the chaos surrounding him.
There was screaming, so much screaming.
Yet he couldn't muster the courage to lift his head and look because he knew deep down what he'd see.
He could smell the retched stench of death lingering in the air. He could feel how warm and sticky the ground had become.
The ominous voice was back, booming all around him.
"So much death in war, have a look" It was taunting him, trying to get him to raise his head, Hizashi begged it to stop.
"Quirk erasing bullets ultimately causing the deaths of all your friends."
Stop just please stop.
"At the centre of it all, a scared little girl that never got rescued, never knew a better life, only pain."
Hizashi froze, eyes wide.
Eri...
Hizashi screamed her name.
~
Suddenly there were hands on his shoulders pressing him down hard and shaking him erratically. His eyes widened, heart pounding in his chest as fear curled its ice-cold grip around his lungs. He tried to shake them of to no avail before opening his mouth to use his quirk, to defend himself.
His scream cut off abruptly and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his throat to make a singled sound.
Quirk erasing bullets His mind supplied.
He felt the hands grab his face, he fought back throwing his arms out to hit, claw, shove, anything the threat away.
"Papa!" A familiar voice screamed in his ear, more hands grabbing his hands and pinning them at his sides. "It's Just us, please calm down!"
He recognized the voice,
Hitoshi.
His eyes snapped opened, his senses returning to him one by one as he realized he was free from that nightmarish hellscape.
With a franticly beating heart and a ragged breath he glanced around the dark room and recognized the familiarity of his home.
I'm safe. It was just a nightmare. It wasn't real.
He glanced up to see Shouta in front of him, hair raised and one eye glowing red.
Well, most of it wasn't real.
The relief he instantly felt drained him of all his adrenaline, his body slumped heavily back into someone's arms. He heard a familiar grunt come from his son, but Hitoshi just bared the extra weight before manhandling his Father up against the headboard.
Tears started to roll down his cheeks, He couldn't tell if they were from fear or his nightmare or relief it was over and that his family were alive and well.
Shouta and Hitoshi didn't move, they sat across the bed for him, giving him some space to wake up and sort himself out before they talked to him and offered up any physical attention.
Hizashi couldn't be more grateful to them in that moment.
Eventually Hizashi was able to take a few deep breaths, to relax and calm himself down enough to really take in his surroundings.
Shouta looked mostly calm on the outside, but the deep furrow of his brow was enough evidence to Hizashi to realize that his husband was deeply concerned. whereas Hitoshi, on the other hand, was far more expressive than his father. The teenager was rubbing the back of his neck raw as he worried glanced at Hizashi with a teary gaze.
The room was completely silent as they all stared at one another, Hizashi was about to reassure his family, to let them know he was fine when they were all startled by quiet little sniffles and muffled sobs coming from their bedroom doorway.
Hizashi glanced up between long, silky pieces of blonde hair and saw Eri frozen in the hallway, her knuckles white as she gripped the door frame and sobbing in fear.
“Eri?” He called out softly, his voice scratchy and raw. He must have accidentally activated his quirk in his sleep multiple times.
Guilt crashed through him as he glanced at his Husband to his left and his son to his right, both of them had tiny amounts of blood trickling from their ears.
“Papa!” Eri cried as she scrambled up the bed and crawled into Hizashi lap, she buried herself into his chest, shaking aggressively as she bawled.
“Shh, it's okay, I’m sorry I scared you.” He whispered, voice still croaky and raw. He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back until she started to calm down. He kept whispering reassures to her until her breaths evening out as she fell back asleep.
He sighed as his tucked a strand of silvery hair behind her horn. He knew that he'd need to talk to her tomorrow about this, to explain what happen and make sure Shes truly okay.
He glanced up to see Shouta and Hitoshi still frowning at him, their worry multiple as they too watched Eri sleep.
This is all my fault.
He broke eye contact, shame filling him at his display of weakness that caused all this drama for his family and so late at night too.
“I’m sorry I woke you both.” He whispered before quickly glancing towards Shouta “Are you okay?”
The black-haired man sighed, rubbing a hand over his scared eyes before reaching toward the spare bottle of eye drops on the nightstands.
After he’d fixed his discomfort, he crawled back into bed and snuggled up to his husband's side, kissing him softly.
“I’m fine, Zashi. Are you okay?” His voice held so much worry and concern, Hizashi just wanted to crawl into his lap, snuggle up to his chest and weep.
To tell him about his nightmare and all the guilt and fears that it showcased.
“I-I’m okay-“ He tried to deflect but Shouta and Hitoshi both shot him a glare, he huffed a laugh at their identical disapproving expressions “I’m okay now.”
He emphasized the point by cuddling Eri closer and resting his head on top of Shouta’s head.
He turned his eyes to his son who still sat almost awkwardly on the edge of their bed. He fiddled nervously with his fingers, eyes darting around the room but every so often falling back on his family.
“Toshi” he spoke softly, the boy perked up at the nickname. “Come here please.”
That was all the reassurance the boy needed before he crawled into the bed on Hizashi's left side, laying his head on Hizashi’s shoulder and clutching the man's shirt like a lifeline.
He really scared them, he realized sadly.
Shouta, ever the perceptive man, read his thoughts and spoke up.
“Go to sleep you two, will talk about this tomorrow.” He hummed before making himself comfier and trying to fall back asleep.
Hitoshi didn’t bother closing his eyes as he fiddled with Hizashi's shirt. The man knew his son suffered from insomnia on the best of days and after tonight’s event most likely wouldn’t find a wink of sleep. That his son had only joined the family's cuddle pile for comfort and peace of mind after tonight traumatic event.
“I promise I’m okay, Hitoshi.” The blonde reassured, taking his hand off Eri to maneuver around to play with his son's wild, purple hair. The boy melted under the contact, reminding Hizashi fondly of one of their many cats.
His breathing evened out, Hizashi couldn’t tell if he actually fell asleep or if he just finally relaxed.
Either way he felt his own body start to slip away to sleep as his exhaustion finally won over his erratic mind.
He was thankful he had such a kind and loving family; he made a mental note to shower them in extra love and effect tomorrow to thank them all for comforting him tonight.