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It’s a rainy Sunday night and Aizawa Shouta is running like his life depends on it. Right behind him, a kid follows his footsteps, just as desperate to get away from their previous predicament as he is. Shouta knows that by now they probably aren’t being followed, but it’s best to be safe than sorry and he’d rather get as far away from the scene as possible before he even starts thinking about what he’s going to say to the problem child.
Shouta can feel his anger and frustration building up. It doesn’t help that the rain is seeping beneath his clothes, making them cling uncomfortably to his skin, and that he’s been running on spite and coffee and zero hours of sleep for the last three days.
He’d just wanted to check in on Deku before he went back home to his lovely warm bed (and husband) but of course things couldn’t be so simple. Of course he’d find the kid stuck in a losing battle against some of the most powerful Shie Hassaikai members, and of course the kid had been overwhelmed and struggling to not die when Shouta had finally found him, and of course Shouta had jumped in and distracted the Yakuza long enough to grab the kid and get the fuck away. And now here they are, coming to a stop in a dimly lit alley, with hearts beating out of their chests and bodies trembling.
And Shouta… Shouta is seething with rage.
And fear.
“What were you thinking?”
Because try as he might, he can’t forget the image of a small, terrified Deku, valiantly — stupidly — holding up his capture weapon like a shield, about to take a punch from a man made of pure muscle that was at least three times his size, right before Shouta had intervened.
“What have I told you, time and time again, about making irrational decisions?”
Shouta can’t seem to keep the frustration out of his voice.
He looks at the kid. The hood of his dark green hoodie had probably fallen off his head at some point during their escape, but with the way his head is lowered and how rain has matted his hair enough for it to form a curtain over his eyes, Shouta is finding it hard to read him.
He does look smaller than usual under the half-light of a faulty street lamp. The well-used capture weapon wrapped around his neck and shoulders seems to be trying to swallow him whole.
“So?” Shouta insists.
When he answers, the kid’s voice is small but sure of itself.
“That we don’t make them.”
Shouta barks out a single, disbelieving laugh.
“So you do remember!” Shouta says. “Then what, pray tell, was that which I saw out there tonight?”
The kid mumbles something that’s lost to the splattering of rain on asphalt and concrete. Shouta walks towards the kid till he’s standing right in front of him.
“You’re gonna have to speak louder than that, Deku.”
Hearing his vigilante name must have sparked something inside the kid because he’s suddenly staring up at Shouta with fire in his eyes.
“That was not an irrational decision.”
Shouta blinks.
“Not an irrational — you were fighting alone against three powerful Yakuza members with no back up at all and you call that rational?”
“All my gathered intel suggested that Eri was going to be there!” Deku justifies, but it’s not enough for Shouta.
“But she wasn’t, was she? Your intel was inaccurate,” he shoots back. “How many times will I have to tell you that there are heroes already working on the case?”
Deku frowns and crosses his arms.
“Well I don’t see it,” he says with a frown, “and I’m tired of waiting, knowing that that little girl is alone and suffering. I had to do something.”
And Shouta knows this. He understands. Dammit, he feels the same and he’s not the one who found out about Eri — Deku was. It’s a great burden for a fourteen-year-old to carry and it’s no wonder the kid feels impatient but…
“You have to accept that this mission is not easy and has to be handled delicately,” Shouta says. “It will take time to gather and check the veracity of all the information we need and to then devise a plan — a good one. You have to trust that we’re doing our job. With this stunt of yours you have probably set us back: the Shie Hassaikai will probabñy be in higher alert than ever.”
Deke shrinks a bit on himself but says nothing. Again, he refuses to look Shouta in the eye. He’s still not getting it, is he?
“You were so lucky tonight,” he continues. “That zone hadn’t been evacuated — you put civilians at risk. And what if Eri had been there? She could’ve gotten hurt or worse because of your carelessness.” Deku’s breath hitches and he finally looks up at Shouta with wide eyes, but Shouta does not stop. “What if she’d seen you get killed? How would that have helped? You never thought about any of this, did you? You were not rational tonight. What if Overhaul had been there, huh? You would definitely be dead.”
With every new scenario, Deku looks more and more shaken, but it’s the mention of Overhaul that overshadows his guilt with anger and hate.
“I could’ve taken him,” Deku says with venom in his voice.
Shouta rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore his tone.
“Okay, now you’re being delusional.” Shouta grabs at an end of the kid’s scarf and tugs on it. “You are good with that capture weapon — great, really — but you are no match for Overhaul and his Yakuza group.”
Deku pulls away and hunches over himself as if getting ready to fight.
“What, because I’m quirkless?”
“I did not say that —”
“Then why, Eraserhead?”
“Because you were on your own, and a fancy weapon like your scarf is not the answer to everything.”
Shouta pinches his nose, already feeling a headache coming. Deku doesn’t look ready to give up.
“But you take on groups of villains alone in fights all the time!”
“That’s not the same,” Shoua says, and it’s really not, because Shouta has been doing this for years, he’s been trained for this. Deku is good at what he does but he’s just a kid. This vigilante thing was supposed to be about stopping small-time criminals, not Yakuza groups. (And Shouta can admit that he should try to team up more, if the looks of utter relief that Hizashi greets him with after solo missions are anything to go by.)
“Bullshit.”
“Problem child,” Shouta admonishes, completely aghast. He’s never seen the kid react like this.
“I just — I just wanted to be like you!”
And that… that leaves Shouta breathless.
(He remembers — remembers a kid with a makeshift capture weapon, stumbling over rooftops; the sticky notes placed on tied-up purse snatchers that recounted their crimes in messy handwriting, making Shouta shake his head fondly; remembers the big smile on the kid’s face when Shouta had offered one of his own capture weapons for him to use. He’d seen so much raw potential on the kid. He remembers the kid promising to be careful, to always think with his head, and he remembers the promise that Shouta made to himself: that he’d watch over the kid, guide him, protect him. And today, he’d nearly lost him.
How had things gone so wrong, so fast?)
Shouta closes his eyes, for a moment unable to look at the child he’d failed.
“And I wanted you to be better.”
Shouta’s declaration is met with heavy silence.
He opens his eyes again, making up his mind. Things have gone on too far and he now has to fix his mistakes.
“It’s clear that your time as a vigilante has taught you nothing so —” for a second, the words catch in his throat, almost like he’s unable to say it, but he has to — “give it back.”
Deku swallows, eyes not quite meeting Shouta’s.
“Give what back?” he asks, but his hands hover over his capture weapon protectively.
He knows what.
“The scarf, kid.” Shouta says it anyway. “Give it back.”
Now, Deku’s hands clutch the scarf tightly.
“F-for how long?” he stutters.
“Forever.”
It hurts Shouta, but it’s for the best, even if Deku can’t see it right now.
The boy’s eyes widen with panic and his knuckles turn white with the death grip he has on the scarf.
“But I can’t help people without it!”
“Give it back, Deku.”
“I can’t be a vigilante without it!”
That’s the point. You have to learn that there’s a better way. One in which you don’t get hurt needlessly.
The kid keeps on spilling argument after argument till Shouta cannot tell his words apart.
He will have to put an end to this; make sure the kid knows he’s being serious.
“Midoriya Izuku!”
It’s just two words — a name — but it tastes bitter in Shouta’s mouth because it feels like treason, because when they’re out here Midoriya is not Midoriya but Deku, just like Shouta is not Shouta but Eraserhead. Saying the name out loud is saying that Shouta, as an adult, has the power over Midoriya, a child.
A deep pain flashes through Midoriya’s eyes as tears start running down his cheeks.
“No! Don’t you dare take this away from me.”
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Midoriya.”
Again, betrayal.
Midoriya flinches.
“You don’t understand!” One last attempts at pleading. “This is all I have, I am nothing without the capture weapon, I —”
“If you’re nothing without the capture weapon then you shouldn’t have it.”
And that’s it. That’s all there is to it, that’s all it takes for Midoriya to slide the scarf off his shoulders and shove it onto Shouta’s waiting arms, miserable under the rain.
They don’t speak as Shouta walks Midoriya back home. Midoriya doesn’t even look back when he shuts the door to his apartment building in Shouta’s face.
Shouta doesn’t blame the kid.
When Shouta gets home, it’s like all his energy has been zapped out of him.
Not so many months ago, he’d really thought that vigilantism was the best option for the kid. A quirkless child making it into a hero course? Impossible, really. It was best to be realistic: if he wanted to make a difference then vigilantism was the way to go. But after getting to know the kid better, Shouta had realised that perhaps there were flaws in his logic.
“Shou?” comes a voice from above him. “Are you alright?”
When had Shouta made his way to the couch and laid down on top of Hizashi? He wasn’t sure, but he appreciated his husband’s fingers combing soothingly his hair.
Shouta shakes his head.
“Had a fight with the kid,” he mumbles, and Hizashi hums, understanding.
“You know,” Hizashi says, “today Nezu approved my recommendation of one Midoriya Izuku.”
It seems like such a simple thing, when he says it, but to Shouta, that’s incredible news, because it opens up a new path for Midoriya. One that won’t be easy, but Shouta has faith in the kid. Hizashi and Shouta had talked about it before. How UA would offer support for the kid. It would keep him away from the self-destructive path he’d started.
Shouta wants to smile about the news until he remembers the last few hours and then he wants to cry.
What’s to say that Midoriya will accept anything that Shouta has to offer after tonight?
Shouta tells Hizashi this, and then talks about everything that had happened tonight.
“You were blinded by your fear of losing the little listener, yes?” Hizashi asks and Shouta nods. “But Shouta, it’s not up to you to decide Midoriya’s future, but to guide and help him. Maybe he did need a reminder that he’s not invincible, but cutting off his wings so suddenly might have been too harsh. That kid idolises you, Shouta, which means that your words mean more to him than what you probably think.
“I’m not saying you were wrong today Shou, but you could’ve been better. Now, it’s up to you to make it better.”
Hizashi’s eyes gleam with faith and trust when Shouta looks at them.
“I will.” Shouta smiles. “Thanks, ‘Zashi.”
As Hizashi hugs him tightly, Shouta promises to himself that he will make things better.
And it’s a promise he intends to keep.