Work Text:
What does it mean to live?
What does it mean to love?
Why does it mean to die?
As Aizawa gasped for air— the remnants of his strength left him as he breathed heavily. His disheveled, long, black hair splayed across the ground, his head on top of gravel. Several heaps of it surrounding him.
He could barely lift up his head, to see that his lower extremity had been pierced through by a large piece of shrapnel. His body seared with a pain unimaginable, once he struggled to attempt at sitting up on his elbows to observe the wound— only to jerk back, laying against the ground again. His head hit a piece of gravel that sat near the back of his head, a grimace stretching across Aizawa's face.
Gasping again, he looked up at the sky. It was clear, the colors shifting as it grew closer to the shades of the night. The sun was settling, alone, with only the moon underneath it.
As his eyes began to close, Aizawa heard rapid footsteps coming towards him— the sounds of gravel and other objects being forced out of the way. The footsteps grew louder, and louder. They hadn't ceased, the sound remaining in his ears as his eyes barely held themselves open.
“Hey! Hey, Shou! Can you hear me? Oh my god..” A frantic voice shouted, dropping to their knees next to Aizawa. He felt a hand carefully find its way to the back of his head— gently threading through his hair. He turned his head to the side to face them, looking up into their eyes as they leaned over him.
It was Hizashi.
He had also been roughed up, although not nearly as severe compared to Aizawa. Hizashi was dressed in his hero costume as well, his long, blond hair lacking it's signature crest look. His hair laid down over his shoulders— his hair littered and tangled with debris. His speaker that he typically wore around his neck was no where to be found, presumably lost in the rubble.
His clothes were tattered, his gloves long gone, and he had several cuts on his pants, with blood staining them. Some of his blond strands fell down from his face as he gazed down at Aizawa, his hair framing the Erasure hero’s face.
“Shouta, talk to me..” Hizashi begged, tears beginning to sting within the corners of his eyes as he watched Aizawa look back at him, with a blank stare. His mouth would be parted open, taking in slow, deep breaths as his eyes remained fixed on Hizashi.
Aizawa remained silent, gradually beginning to grasp the situation around him. He had already been aware of the brutal landscape the two found themselves in— especially considering the wound he very recently endured. He hadn't needed any doctor, nor hero— nor anyone to tell him that his wounds were fatal. He already felt his whole world slowing down, and even as he faintly heard Hizashi's constant pleas, everything felt much slower.
It was as if everything had sped up right before his fatal wounds, only to slow down when his time to go was on the horizon. The only sense of time he was able to be fully attuned with was the sky. Although, with that being said, hardly any time passed at all since he was left to lay here— as the sky remained the same color, the low, but vibrant red and orange hues of the beginnings of dusk. The vibrant hues remained before Hizashi rushed over to his side.
Hizashi leaned his head in closer to Aizawa, the tears stinging in the corners of his eyes now gliding down his face. They dropped down onto Aizawa's face, causing him to blink his eyes a couple of times. The sensation caused his sense of time to resume again, as if it hadn't been slowed down at all.
Suddenly, he was able to hear Hizashi clearly speak.
“Shou… Please… You have to say something…” Hizashi cried, his voice dropping low as his voice began to crack. His tears continued to roll down his face— with the droplets running down Aizawa's, sliding into the ground.
He began to cough, leading to Hizashi to aid him with sitting up. Gently, as he heard a sharp wince escape from Aizawa between his coughs. As Aizawa coughed, he put a balled up fist to his mouth to cover it— only to discover that there had been blood. He stared down at his hand, lowering it down. Hizashi noticed the blood, and tried to speak up again, only for his tears to flow even more, barely able to steady his voice enough to speak.
Aizawa slowly turned his head to Hizashi, with his eyes sunken, and his face also covered in debris— he finally spoke.
“I don't have much time left.”
“H-How do you… Know? We need to get you to the hospital, there's still time..” Hizashi tried to argue, his voice wavering as he attempted to stifle his sobs.
“I just.. Know. I can just feel it. Given how much pain I'm in-” Aizawa began to cough again, blood beginning to trail from his mouth. “I think it's the end of the line for me, Zashi..” He wiped the blood away once he had finished speaking, a bloody smear now spread across his sleeve.
Hizashi’s eyes widened, his heart stopping when he took a closer look at the severe injury that impacted Aizawa’s lower extremity. His eyes lingered on the brutal scene before him, seeing that his lower extremity was pierced straight through, blood splattered across the rubble, underneath Aizawa. Carefully, Hizashi laid him back down onto the ground again, before turning his attention back towards Aizawa's face. He leaned forward, and grabbed one of Aizawa's hands, holding it close, “No, no.. We'll get you out of here, okay? You'll be okay, Shou..”
“Zashi-”
“We'll get you out of here.. I know it.. You'll be able to be saved..”
“Zashi-”
“It'll all work out in the end, and we'll be able to make it out of here together.. Alive and swell..”
“Hizashi.”
Aizawa slowly removed his hand from Hizashi’s, before moving it towards the back of his head. His fingers intertwined in his blond locks as he pulled his head down, before capturing his lips.
Hizashi's eyes widened again, shock overcoming him as he felt Aizawa tilt his own head to the side as he closed his eyes. He held onto Hizashi, pulling him closer as they kissed.
The spiraling thoughts in Hizashi's mind halted for a moment— His mind thinking back on what it had been like the very first time they shared a kiss.
They had been young, and so idiotic— Unable to adequately express how they felt for one another, endless shenanigans entailing between them due to that. Even if they weren't always able to show how much they truly meant to one another, they always managed to remain by each other’s sides— no matter what obstacles they may have faced.
Even if they hadn't planned the situations they found themselves in, whether it being good, bad, or neither— the two had always known that through everything, sticking by each other was what felt right.
Even during times like this.
Aizawa pulled away slowly, his lips parting as he looked into Hizashi's eyes one last time— the once ever so bright, full of life emerald orbs still shined, the life remaining inside, despite the glossy, tearful look within them. They diverged from Aizawa's dark, now grim eyes as they slowly lost their color. The soft glint behind them flickered, as if it were a lightbulb ready to go out.
As Aizawa let go of Hizashi's hair, he felt his vision start to blur, and his ears begin to ring— all for a couple of moments before he felt everything slow, fading steadily around him. Hizashi's cries were lost into the deep abyss that took ahold of him.
It felt as if he were being swallowed whole— every last ounce of his remaining strength leaving his grasp as be sunk deeper into the depths. His breath slowed as his eyes closed, the sounds and desperate calls fading into nothingness as he sunk closer to the bottom of the void.
There had been no return— at least, known for him, as Aizawa had believed. He knew that there was no point in fighting what he perceived to be the impossible. Even so, maybe there could have been some sort of a miracle. Maybe was only dreaming.
Or, perhaps this was his actual reality.
He had no way of knowing.
Unless- he had finally, woken up.