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“Why are you on the rooftop?”
Izuku looks at him and scoffs.
“Cuz I want to.” He looks around, at the low lights from the town.
“You-…. Fine.” He deflates and leanes on the doorway.
“Then why are you out so late?” He asks and izukus answer is not imediate.
“… you know why.. why are you even asking?” He points a glance to Eraser.
“You usually don’t hang around so late.”
“So now you know my routine.. stalker.”
“Deku, don’t get sassy with me it’s not the time. It’s almost 2 am you never stay so late.” Eraserhead states and is surprised to see the look on izukus face. Huh.
“It’s what?! I’m gonna be so late!” He says and starts walking to the door until he hears a faint “wait..!” and a sharp sudden pain in his forearm as he lets out a startled sound.
“You’re hurt?” He lets go of his arm, and he sounded guilty.
“It’s none of your business.” He says sharply and takes forced even breaths to not forget and stop breathing. The pain was immense, and before Eraserhead grabbed him it was bearable, barely noticeable, now it was pulsing and blood started to slowly flow again from the gash.
“Deku.” He says hesitatingly and izuku wasn’t in the best mood and with a pause and a deep breath he said “What..?” He smiled mockingly.
“Let me take a look, and yes I know you’ll take care of it yourself but you’re not trained medically or will be visiting a hospital. I have supplies and knowledge.” He looks pleadingly, a surprising sight on erasers face.
So Izuku agrees.
He sat down and thought before saying something he forgot, the pain made him dizzy.
As Eraserhead warped his arm after checking it and disinfecting it, he hissed after a sudden thug of the bandage and a faint ‘sorry’.
“I’m not.. your father.”
“I know.”
“I’m not your caretaker or guardian.” He says as if to reassure himself, to be reminded of it, not izuku.
“I know… but..” the hero stood up and with a huff mentioning him to continue, izuku laughs and with a faint giggle and a smile on his face asks “But do you know that?”
He stopped putting the bandages away.
He looked at the bloodied cotton pads, his gaze traveling to the view, and in the view was his probl-. The, the problem child, problem vigilante.
The air smelled fresh, crisp and wet from the soft rain before, a small streak of smoke could be smelled, from him and that’s.. .
A sharp breath and he responds.
“I know.” He says reluctantly, “I know.”
He puts the stuff away and the other used ones in a small bag, takes his capture scarf and throws it on a lamppost not looking back. He didn’t want to, his chest and his eyes felt heavy, leaving him to feel tired as ever.
Izuku watched him the whole time, eyes searching. And when he found nothing in the man’s retreating back, he looked away. He kinda did care, but why should he..?