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Shouta slumped back inside his apartment after another patrol. First, he takes off his capture weapon then the goggles he got from Oboro before he died. The goggles were great for his quirk and good at reminding him of his old friend. At the reminder the goggles gave him, like they always do, he glances over at a picture in the hallway of him, Oboro and Hizashi as first years, which Nemuri had taken of them on the school roof. Hizashi and Oboro smiling and laughing as always, taking him with them.
It was a nice time back then, too bad he couldn't really remember the feeling anymore. The relief from being a teen and optimistic. He had never been the biggest optimist, but he sure was a bigger one back then than now. Now he knew the real world, which he had known for five years now. Five long years. Five years without Oboro in this world, just because he wasn't strong enough, good enough to help his friend out in time.
He missed the feeling of not having an unbearable weight on your shoulders that won't be lifted off. Not that that is a feeling, but is actually the lack of one. But with how familiar he was with this new feeling, instead of not having it, not having the feeling felt more of a feeling than how it was now.
The unbearable weight was just how it was now. Guilt eating you up from the inside, never letting go. Still, because he was so used to the weight on his shoulder and guilt he didn't really want it completely gone either. He didn't want to feel an unfamiliar feeling. He found a little comfort in having it the same all the time and being familiar with how he was feeling. It was still dreading and hard to handle which was probably why he drank so much.
Drinking would take a little off. Making it a bit easier and still not going away from the familiarity. Giving him a break. Not completely go away from it like his therapist wanted.
His therapist didn't understand jack shit. So he stopped listening to her a long time ago but still went as his two friends wanted. Therapy hadn't done anything but irritate him, but he didn't tell them that as not to worry them. Instead he had even acted like it had helped.
Not that he needed help or to get better. He was doing good. Knowing how brutal the world was wasn't really a bad thing. It made him work harder, and so he became a better and stronger hero. He also knew not to think things would work out without working hard for it. You need to know that as a hero.
For now Shouta was tired after patrol and went straight to the kitchen to get some jelly pouches to eat. It was great, because it didn't need to be prepared or anything, but everyone else thought it wasn't enough to eat after patrol. He lived alone so he did as he himself wanted, not caring what others has to say about his eating habits.
He sat down at the kitchen table and checked the time. He realized he finished his patrol early today as it was still half an hour until Hizashi's radio show. He usually tried to time his patrol so the radio show started soon after he got home. He always listened to it, not that he would ever admit it to anyone.
Since it was so long until the radio show he decided he could ease his mind with something else a bit, first. The radio show often helped him ease his mind after patrol, so he needed something else as he couldn't handle his own mind for the moment. He looked at his fridge and it was decided. He would be drinking again tonight.
He grabbed a beer and set the TV on, watching the news. Looks like All Might had taken down a villain with hostages in Tokyo. Nothing special then. He didn't particularly like the hero, since he was so focused around being in the spotlight, but the fact that no one had ever died at a scene he was at made up for it. Unlike him. He had failed to save Oboro. Oboro did everything he could and Shouta wasn't good enough to be there for him in the fight. Shota had even thought he heard him cheering him on, which wasn't possible since the other died.
He drank up the beer and went to one of his cabinets. He needed more. This time he picked up something stronger. Something with a little more kick. Whiskey. He also grabbed a shotglass to drink from.
He opened the half-full bottle and poured whiskey into his shotglass. He held the glass and swirled his hand in a round motion to see the whiskey go in circles then drank it in one go. He could feel the burn in his throat, but didn't react much to it as he was used to it. He poured another shot, not waiting or swirling the drink, but immediately chugged it.
He wanted the process to go fast and he knew one shot and a beer wouldn't get him drunk. Two shots and a beer also wasn't enough. He needed more than than that. He ended up with pouring two more shots and chugging those two right down too.
He turned off the TV and set on the radio instead. Hizashi's wasn't yet, but he could listen to something else first. He set on a debate radio show.
"... I do indeed still believe in god even though we have quirks. You see just because we have quirks doesn't mean there isn't a god out there. If you ask me the fact that we have quirks proves that god exists. I mean it doesn't make sense why humans even began getting quirks. It must be the work of god."
God, really? That doesn't exist. Just a nice fantasy for those who don't want to wake up and face the real world.
"What do you have to say about that?" The radio host asked the other person who though that quirks proved that god didn't exist.
"Quirks are just something that happened through evolution. Not that special. If there was a god, I don't think he would give us powers. He would want to be the only one that is powerful. He wouldn't share it, especially not with humans. Humans are gross beings who destroys what they can and make themselves the best. Why would god give us the power to make that easier for us? Thinking that god exists is just stupid and-" He was cut of by the host as it was not allowed to insult each other. The debate continued shortly after, but while the debate was paused Shouta got time to think for himself.
He was partly right though. Everyone doesn't seek to destroy, there sure are many but not everyone. But people who believes god exists are stupid, or just doesn't want to realize that when someone are gone, they are gone. They're just ignorant people. You won't meet them when you die yourself. Would be nice though. That way I could meet Oboro- really brain, again?
One beer and four whiskey shots was down, but wasn't enough apparently. He needed more. Something even stronger. Something that would make him forget about Oboro's death for a while. This time he grabbed his Everclear bottle with 95% alcohol by volume. He didn't bother with the glass this time and just lifted the bottle up to his lips. And drank, chugged even. The burn in his throat was stronger this time. He stopped chugging after about two shots worth of Everclear. He sat the bottle down and coughed a bit from the burn in his throat.
Now he just had to wait for the alcohol to do its thing. He walked over to his couch and sat and down continued listening to the radio.
Soon enough he began feeling better, happier and free from the guilt eating him up and chaining him down. Finally. The relief was great. He checked the time again, Hizashi was about to start in a few minutes.
He switched the radio channel to the hero channel. Throw your hands up, which was the name of Hizashi's show, would come up there. Right now some hero's interview was being wrapped up, getting ready for Mic to come on.
"Now it's time for Present Mic's Throw Your Hands Up radio show.
"Hello Listeners! Hope you have been doing well. Now I will answer as many of your calls as possible! So begin calling the number you were given earlier!" He said and after one second he got a call. "Oh, looks like someone's eager, hello listener!" Then the conversation continued for a little bit and a few more calls.
Shouta liked listening to the radio show, liked to listen to Hizashi's voice. It was so happy and energetic. So positive and comforting, like Oboro's. How could he think earlier that Hizashi was irritating when he tried to help him? He was just trying to be nice. Just like Oboro always was.
Shouta felt bad for being irritated and thought maybe he should apologize. Ask if he could come over and apologize. Yeah that would be nice, that way he could hear him in person and see him too. See his green eyes and smile, which was so much like the blue haired boy's smile.
He then picked his phone up and dialed the number, clicking wrong a lot and having to clear up and type again. When he had finally gotten the right number and called, Hizashi answered.
"Hello listener! What do you want to talk about?" The usual start he always said when he answered calls on his radio show.
"Hey Mic," He said, doing his best to sound normal.
"Aizawa? Is that you?"
"Heh, yeah, uhm I- Could you come over?" He asked, slurring his words.
"Have you been drinking?"
"Listen. I love you."
"That's real sweet, but I wish you were sober."
"Sorry," Shouta said then hung up. That was stupid. Really stupid. Why did I say that? On his live radio show even. Shouta picked up the Everclear bottle again, and again he chugged. The burn felt good.
The show was going great for the night. Lots of people called and the conversations was interesting. Then a weird call came.
"Hey Mic," Shouta called him. And drunk. He drank again. It was easy to hear when Shouta was drunk. He always sounded so much happier, which was a bit sad as that kinda meant he usually wasn't happy.
"Aizawa is that you?" He asked to be sure it was him while he waved to the people operating the radio to cut the call off the radio. So they did and put on a song for the time being instead. It was possible that it was someone with almost the exact same voice, but he doubted it.
"Heh, yeah, Uhm I- could you come over?" He also did things he usually wouldn't do when he was drunk. Like he was finally free from chains holding him down. Chains not letting him be happy and live life.
"Have you been drinking?" He knew the answer, but felt like he had to ask anyways. He really didn't want Shouta to be drinking again. It was a bad and unhealthy way to feel happiness, to forget and to be free.
"Listen. I love you." What? Love me, in what way? No, he's drunk. Don't take it that seriously.
"That's real sweet, but I wish you were sober." Hizashi said.
"Sorry." He heard and was about to reply, but the other man hung up before he could say anything. At least he's not completely gone if he is conscious enough to apologize. Guess I don't have to worry too much. But maybe send Nemuri to check on him. Yeah.
Hizashi then sent a quick text message to Nemuri and asked if she could go over to Shouta and check on him. After he sent the message he said to the radio operators that he as ready to continue the show.
"Sorry for the short break. Now I'm ready for more of your calls!" There was just one thing that didn't sit right with Hizashi. Shouta had told him and Nemuri he had gotten better and had completely stopped drinking. That he was feeling better and that therapy helped. Did he lie? Lie about all of it? Then he got snapped back to the studio, out of his mind.
"Present Mic? Hello?" He heard. Guess I'll have to worry about that later. Now he was at work, and he couldn't let his reputation down as an optimistic and cheerful hero.
"Oh, hi, sorry what did you say?" He asked, The rest of the radio show went as normal. Making sure he was listening to all of them and pushing his worry about Shouta to the side.
Shouta looked at the bottle in front of him on the table in front of the TV. It was blurry, but he could see the bottle that was earlier full turned to almost half empty now. He felt cold, lightheaded and his stomach was uneasy. He felt like vomiting. So he stood up and tried to walk to get to the toilet, stumbling into the table and fell to the ground. He crawled to the closest door. He couldn't help but notice his hands with a blue undertone, while he reached for the handle on the door to use as support to get up. He then walked beside the wall and used it as support on his walk to the bathroom.
A few meters away from the bathroom he wasn't able to hold the vomit in any longer and fell to his knees and vomited. He vomited ugly yellow bile. It gave him a lingering disgusted taste on his tongue. He threw up a few more times until there wasn't much left in his stomach to throw up.
Shouta looked away from the vomit as it was disgusting and sat back leaning against the wall. He opened his phone. No notifications. Hizashi hadn't even sent him a message after the call. Had just went on with his show. Maybe he had ended the phone call before he said sorry on accident and Hizashi was angry at him for doing that on his live show.
He opened text messages and wanted to type I love you, you've always tried to help me just like Oboro always did, yet I lied to you about not drinking and I'm sorry for calling you on live and say that. Please forgive me for being such a selfish asshole. But with how blurry his vision was and his coordination what was written was I love you, you've always tried to help me kust like Oborp alwaus sid, yet I lies to you abput not frinking and I"m sorry ror vallung you on live and sau that. Pleasd forgive me foe being suvh q welfish assholw, sometimes the auto correct helping him and sometimes not.
He sent the message hoping for a reply, which he got but too late for him to read.
Hizashi was done with the live radio show and he finally let himself worry about Shouta again. He had gotten a notification under the show which he had guessed was from Nemuri without checking earlier. Now that he opened his phone he saw that it was Shouta that had sent him a message instead.
I love you, you've always triwd to help me kust like Oborp alwaus sid, yet I lies to you abput not frinkimg and O"m sorry ror vallung you on live and sau that. Pleasd forgive me foe being suvh q welfish assholw
There was lots of misspelling there, but he understood everything. He sent a quick message back: It's fine, I'm coming over. Then he called Nemuri and grabbed all his things and rushed to his car.
Hizashi had to call twice for Nemuri to answer.
"What? why are you calling me this late?"
"You haven't read my text have you?"
"No?"
"It's Shouta, he's drunk and acting weird. I'm worried about him. Something isn't right."
"What, but he quit drinking a year ago."
"Apparently not, he lied. I'm on my way to his house right now. You coming?"
"Of course."
"C'ya there then." He hung up and drove to Shouta's house. He noticed that Nemuri hadn't gotten there yet as her car wasn't there. He didn't wait for her and went into Shouta's house. He saw his capture weapon hung up right by the door along with his goggles. He was home for sure then. He never left his apartment without his capture weapon.
On the kitchen table he saw an open can of beer, shotglass and whiskey bottle. On the table in front of the TV he saw an Everclear bottle, half empty. Yeah, he had not stopped drinking. Then his phone buzzed. Nemuri called him.
"I'm here now, just parked the car. You seen him yet?"
"No, not yet I just got inside, but he has definitely been drinking."
"Keep looking then, the place isn't that big, I'll be there in a minute."
"Yeah," Hizashi then turned around to go to Shouta's room. In the hallway was Shouta laying on the floor against the wall on his side like a homeless sick cat. Phone in one hand, a little puke running down from his mouth and a big yellow puke puddle half a meter away from him. "I found him." Was all he could say before he dropped his phone and rushed over to check on him.
"How is he?" Nemuri didn't get an answer.
Hizashi looked at his best friend and when Hizashi got closer he noticed that his skin, especially his hands and lips, looked blue. His face was pale and eyes dull and lifeless with pupils dilated and unresponsive.
"Shouta! C'mon get up!" He shouted. He knelt down to check his pulse. His was cold, and Hizashi couldn't feel any pulse. I must be doing it wrong, there's no way. No way! He tried to move his fingers a bit around the spot on the neck where you're supposed to be able to feel pulse. Then he tried to check on his wrist. Then he looked his chest for breathing and listened.
There was no sign of him being alive. No movement. No response. "No, no, no. You gotta get up, c'mon. You're not dead. Please, no." Hizashi moved Shouta onto his back so he could perform CPR on him. First 30 chest compressions then two mouth-to-mouth breaths. And again. And again.
"Hizashi!" Nemuri shouted from the door to the apartment. "Shouta!"
Hizashi didn't look up. He just continued doing CPR. Tears landed on his hands. He sniffled. "Come on! Wake up!" Hizashi's voice cracked as tears streamed down his face, the tears falling onto his hands as he desperately tried to wake Shouta up with CPR.
Nemuri came closer to see, and came to see the awful sight too. Her eyes welled up with tears as she wailed, the tears blurred her vision. She knew what happened by the look of the scene and the alcohol beverages she saw earlier. She knew what happened, but maybe he wasn't dead, just fainted or in a comatose. In that case she should call an ambulance. So, she did, dreading what was about to happen. When the paramedics arrived it didn't take long for them to declare Shouta dead. It was now confirmed.
They both knew it already deep down when they saw Shouta laying there on the floor. Laying there like a broken doll that was played with too hard. Pushed too hard by the crushing reality he had felt for five years. They had also felt it, but hadn't been directly in the fight and weren't crushed and chained down as much. Therefore they were able to cope.
Despite knowing it neither of them wanted to accept the truth. Didn't want another friend to die. Didn't want to feel once another time like there was something they should've done differently. Not yet again.
Not another one passed away because they weren't good enough. But it happened yet again. And there was absolutely nothing they could do about it. No amount of CPR or anything would get them back. Death was brutal and irreversible. And yet again they weren't able to stop it. Yet. Again. And this time it was stronger. Because this time they were directly in the fight. Shouta had called Hizashi. Hizashi had texted Nemuri. They both felt like it was all their fault. They should've seen the signs too.
Yet again they lost a friend, where they could've done more. Fought with their friend through it. Physical or mental fight, it didn't matter, they should've fought with their friends better, but they didn't. This intense guilt they felt right now must've been how it had been for Shouta the last few years. He was the closest to being able to save Oboro that time. This time Hizashi and Nemuri were closest to being able to save Shouta. This was the intense gulit he had had for five years. He was free from it. They had to live with it now.