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He landed softly on the rooftop, his chin digging deeper into his capture scarf, desperate trying to warm himself. Goosebumps littered his skin the moments his eyes laid on the shadow of a person in front of him, sitting on the ledge.
Aizawa moves towards the figure, carefully but not quietly, not trying to startle them when he gets close.
He sits down next to them, their hood is up, hands in their pockets. He determines it’s a guy from the silhouette but he can’t see anything else identifying. His heart beats faster when the boy doesn’t say anything, fear growing inside of his chest.
“Can I ask why you’re up here?” He says nervously, attempting to calm his own voice.
The boy doesn’t answer but Aizawa sees a tear fall towards his dark clothes. At least that’s confirmation he’s conscious.
“I understand it, I really do. I’ve considered it too, not long ago, only a couple years ago. A student of mine disappeared, just into thin air. He just didn’t show up to class one day and we couldn’t find him.” He tries to keep his breathing even, keep the tears from falling when he revisits these memories. No matter how painful it is for him, he knows how important it can be to get reassurance that they aren’t alone in the way they’re feeling, and maybe he’s trying to distract the boy too, so he keeps talking.
“He was going to be a great hero. He wanted to save everyone, no matter how insignificant the person was deemed by society, he had a soft spot for people who needed help. I always thought it was just because he was selfless, but I realized not long after he disappeared that it was because he needed help too.”
Shouta stutters a deep breath, and relaxes a little when he sees the boy next to him breathes in deeply too.
“The police thought he ran away but I knew there was no way in hell. After they talked to some of his classmates and went through his journals, they were sure he left to commit suicide. I broke after that, I couldn’t believe that one of my students had been driven to that and I hadn’t even had a clue. He was always so bright, his smile gave people hope, it was hard to believe that that was a facade.”
His heart aches, digging this up always makes him hurt. It’s like he’s reliving it, like he can never get away from his student’s face on the missing poster.
“I spent months just absolutely destroyed. I stayed up every night patrolling, I couldn’t have been more sure that I would find him somewhere. But I never did, and after some time, it seemed more and more probable that he really did kill himself. I hated it, that I couldn’t do anything, that I was too late.”
The tears fall from his eyes, he feels his phone buzz and he just knows it’s Yamada, wondering why he’s taking so long, why he isn’t home yet. He had started messaging him throughout patrol a couple years ago, when he would go out for the whole night searching.
“A year after he disappeared, exactly, I was patrolling. It was the middle of the night, my husband was asleep, and so were all my students. I was hopping between roofs when I stopped on one of the ledges. I had been thinking about doing it for a while, once I lost hope of finding him. I had failed him, my student, my kid. I hated myself for it, I couldn’t live with myself anymore. I couldn’t live with the fact that a kid I was in charge of, a kid I was responsible for, had killed himself and I had no clue he was even struggling. So I decided I was gonna join him.”
He hears a shark intake of breath next to him and he looks to see the boy’s shoulders shuttering, more tears falling. Shouta still couldn’t see his face, and the boy still didn’t move towards him, so he kept talking.
“I was seconds away from it too, but I looked down at the busy street and I saw his green curly hair in the crowd of the nightlife. Immediately, I jumped down and slid down the wall, fighting through the crowd of people smoking and drinking, singing along to stupid songs, trying to catch up to the green hair.”
The tears and shaking next to him had stopped, the boy had gone quiet.
“I followed him into a bar, there was no way he could’ve gotten in back then, he was only 17. But I followed anyway, just in case. I never found him. But I swear that I saw him that night, so I went back to searching. I never stopped, really. Eventually, my husband convinced me to go back to my normal patrol schedule, but every night I keep my eye out for green curls, or freckled cheeks, or wide green eyes that always look like they’re on the verge of tears. I look for him in everything, I know my students do too. Especially one of my more hot-headed ones.”
A chuckle. The boy next to him chuckled, a quiet, airy laugh. Shouta’s startled into silence for a moment before he realizes that’s good, he needs to keep talking.
“He was a piece of work in high school, a difficult student, but he quieted down after his supposed rival disappeared. Not in a quiet, shy kind of way but a broken way. He always looked like he was looking for something. I ran into him most nights patrolling that first year, but I never got him in trouble for it. I understood him, we were doing the same thing. He’s a great hero now. Even if he’s gotten through most of his grief, I can still see how broken he is. He doesn’t fight the same way he used to, doesn’t have the same fight in him.”
Shouta looks at the boy next to him again, desperate for some sort of reaction. All he gets is the boy removing his hands from his pockets to rub his face. Long, crooked, scarred fingers.
Shouta’s heart aches with recognition.
“I don’t think my missing student would ever realize how much everyone in his life misses him. How much everyone struggled after he left us, willingly or not. 4 years without Izuku is far too long.”
The boy flinches at the name.
“I just wish I could tell him how much I want him to come home.”
The boy lunges towards him, wrapping his arms around Shouta’s waist from the side, digging his face into his side. Loud sobs erupt from his chest and Shouta quickly recognizes the green curls when his hood falls back. His hand claws at the boy’s hair, his arms wrapping around his shaking form.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re here. You’re home. You can come home.” Shouta sniffles out. “Do you want to come home?”
The boy in his arms nods and moves to pull away slightly, looking up at him.
A sigh of relief leaves Shouta’s lips when he’s met with bright green eyes full of tears and large freckles.
“Please. I wanna come home.”