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“No.”
“Do at least consider the request, Aizawa-kun. You are deceptively good with your students,” Nezu said.
Shōta raised an eyebrow. “That's your most convincing argument? A half-baked blend of flattery and insult?”
Nezu grinned. “It's not my most convincing argument, merely the first. Besides, if I pretended you were some natural-born child-whisperer, it would be both false and entirely ineffective.”
Shōta scoffed. “Exactly. Find someone better.”
“What qualifications do you believe this mythical ‘someone better’ should possess?” Nezu asked.
“You're the smartest being on the planet,” Shōta called over his shoulder as he stalked out of the office. “Figure it out.”
Shōta and Eri were holding hands and nearly made it to the gate.
Eri's hand tightened on his. Shōta looked at her to see her eyes wide.
Glancing around, he spotted Midoriya and Uraraka. He stopped as the teens re-entered the campus.
Eri still held his hand tighter but her gaze dropped to the ground.
When Midoriya laughed, she twitched just slightly but didn't seem afraid.
Shōta cleared his throat. “Midoriya.”
“Aizawa-sensei!” The boy startled briefly, then grinned impossibly widely. “Oh my God, Eri!”
“H-hi Deku,” she said softly. She began to look up towards his face, but stalled on his shirt.
“Yes, Eri,” Shōta confirmed. “Midoriya is actually wearing a shirt that says ‘pants’ on it.”
Uraraka covered her face to try to hide her giggle but failed.
“Oh,” Eri said slowly. “Why?”
“Well…” Midoriya looked down at his own shirt like it had an answer on it.
“It's supposed to be a joke,” Shōta said tiredly. “It's not expected and untrue, which makes some people laugh.”
Midoriya nodded emphatically while wringing his hands. “Yeah, it's just kind of…having fun with words.”
Shōta looked from the anxious teenage boy to the anxious little girl. Then he glanced at Uraraka who nodded excitedly to his silent question.
“Midoriya, would you and Uraraka take Eri on a walk through the woods on campus? We were on our way there.”
Eri looked up at Shōta, her expression smooth but her eyes bright. Midoriya was lit up like a light bulb too.
“I mean, yeah, sure. But you were walking the opposite way?”
Uraraka elbowed Midoriya gently. “You take one of Eri's hands, Deku, and I'll take the other!”
Shōta leaned down to whisper to Eri, but made sure he was loud enough for the older kids to hear. “It's okay to want things, and it's okay to ask for those things. Understand?”
She nodded.
“When you start to get tired or aren't having as much fun, ask them to call me. That's your practice.”
Eri furrowed her brows and nodded firmly. The girl enjoyed a challenge.
He let go of her hand reluctantly and watched the three of them head towards the forest.
Shōta sat at the oversized table in the Heights Alliance common room. The students were scattered around the room in groups and their noise had faded into the background. At least until Midoriya shuffled over and said Shōta's name louder than strictly necessary.
His eyes flicked up to Midoriya then back to the page. He drew a line separating a run-on sentence into two. “What is it?”
“I wanted to show you some pictures Uraraka and I took yesterday in the woods with Eri-chan,” he half-asked, half-stated.
Jiro's head popped up over the back of the couch. “Did you just say you have new pictures of Eri?”
Hagakure was obviously jumping up and down.
“You should show them on the TV,” Ojiro suggested. “Do you know how?”
After a few taps, Midoriya was flipping slowly through the photos while his classmates cooed and asked questions.
Shōta watched quietly from behind them.
Midoriya finished on a picture where Eri was crouched to look at a butterfly. Her face shone with the tiniest hint of a smile. Slowly, the students drifted back to their previous activities.
The photo lingered on the screen, and so did Shōta's eyes. Eri was actually smiling.
Midoriya disconnected his phone from the screen as he came back over. “I can send you that one?”
“Hmm?” Shōta dragged his eyes back to Midoriya. “Oh. Sure.”
After another few taps, Midoriya turned his megawatt smile back to Shōta. “Anyway, I wanted to say thank you for letting us take her. I know you have to share her with the other staff, so it will be a while before you get her for the afternoon again.”
“It's fine,” Shōta said, waving dismissively. “I got to take a nap, so it actually helped me.”
Midoriya shook his head. “We can all tell how special Eri days are to you.”
Shōta's confused silence hung between them.
Midoriya took a few steps away to yell to his classmates, but kept his eyes on Shōta. “Hey, I was thinking we should all go to the movies next Thursday!”
“Did I finally knock your last fucking brain cell lose today?!” Bakugo snapped.
Mina counted on her fingers then looked up. “Definitely not Thursday. Wednesday?”
“Why not Thursday?” Kaminari asked. “Did I forget another project?!”
“No, ribbit. It's that one thing,” Asui said. She stared at him as if she could beam the information into his brain.
“Wait, what?” Kaminari looked around.
“Fucking idiot extra,” Bakugo muttered.
Todoroki looked at Kaminari soberly. “If we all go, Aizawa-sensei and one other staff member have to come with us. Thursday is the next ‘Eri day.’ Asking our teacher to sacrifice his own happiness in such a way is unacceptable. Therefore, we must select another day for our outing.”
Yaoyorozu looked at Shōta like they'd all gotten their hands caught in the cookie jar.
When Shōta entered the teacher's lounge a few days later, Eri lay on her belly surrounded by paper and crayons. Chiyo was watching and commenting quietly.
He stepped silently toward his desk.
“I see you sneaking, young man!” Chiyo called to him.
Shōta stopped and turned to her, shifting his expression so he looked less scolded than he felt. “Shuzenji-san,” he greeted with a bow. “You seemed occupied.”
“Oh, please,” Chiyo answered playfully. “You know I enjoy any chance I have to talk with you where I don't have to remind you that hospitals exist.”
“I don't forget they exist, I just loathe them,” he replied evenly. “Besides, you have better lollipops.”
Chiyo huffed. “You are a truly ridiculous man.”
Eri watched the two adults talk with interest. Despite her dislike of most things medical, Eri felt comfortable with Chiyo. Shōta was glad they shared that.
Chiyo nudged Eri. “Didn't you have something that you wanted to show Aizawa-san, dearie?”
Eri nodded and got to her feet with a paper in her hands. She weaved around the other drawings on the floor until she could approach him. She held out the paper without lifting her eyes from the floor.
Shōta crouched down to her level despite the popping in his knees. He accepted the paper with both hands, but turned a bit so they could look at it together.
“Would you tell me about it?”
Eri looked at him for just a split-second before gluing her eyes to the paper. “Um…it's me with all the people that helped rescue me. Or the ones that I still get to see anyway. There's Kirishima-kun, and Ochaco-chan, and Tsu-chan, and Deku, and you, and Lemillion, and Amajiki-kun, and Nejire-chan!”
She pointed to each person as she said their name.
“You spent a lot of time getting the colors right on everyone's hero suits,” he observed.
She didn't smile, but she did stand straighter. “Uh-huh. Miss Chiyo helped me some with remembering all the colors.”
Shōta nodded. “How did you decide where everyone should stand?”
“Um,” Eri said, looking away from him and the drawing. “I drew me and you, then Lemillion and Deku. Then everybody else.”
He examined the drawing. The only two people touching were him and Eri. They held hands in the center. His breath caught briefly before he recovered.
“This is a really nice drawing, Eri-chan,” he said, still not looking away from it.
She nodded, satisfied.
He held it out to her. “Thank you for telling me about it.”
“You can keep it, Mr. Eraser-san,” she said. “If…if you want to?”
Shōta looked at Eri and gave a small, real smile. “Can you sign it for me first? Artists always sign their names.”
She took the drawing and kneeled down to pick a color.
He glanced at Chiyo. She met his eyes and winked.
“Aizawa-sensei?”
Shōta looked up at Tenya, doing his best to not look aggravated. “Yes?”
The boy shifted in his seat. “The bell rang for homeroom 4 minutes ago.”
A glance to his right showed the stack of papers next to where his book rested on the desk. Tenya had already collected last night's assignments. He'd placed the completed attendance sheet on top. Shōta pressed his lips together.
“Are you feeling quite well, sir?” the class representative asked.
Aoyama was sitting attentively for once. “He was simply absorbed in his book, non?”
“It must be a good one to mess with his situational awareness that much, right?” Kirishima half-shouted. “What's it called?”
Shōta looked at Kirishima with a flat expression.
Kirishima backpedaled. “I mean, not that your situational awareness ever lapses!”
Bakugo scoffed. “Do you really think Hobo-sensei is reading some kind of trash sci-fi or something?”
“It might be a nice break from teaching and the intense cases that he often works!” Midoriya chipped in brightly. “Fiction can be an excellent means of self-care by allowing for an escape from one's own overwhelming circumstances, provided that it doesn't interfere with other responsibilities. Studies have actually shown–”
Bakugo had spun in his seat. This made Midoriya dissolve into nervous giggles.
Sero jumped in. “I think he's an action novel kind of guy.”
Ashido squealed. “nuh-uh! I bet he's secretly into juicy romance!”
Shōta dropped his head onto his book with an audible thunk.
“Koda thinks historical fiction, ribbit,” Froppy said. “I think horror & suspense.”
Yaoyorozu hummed in thought. “Poetry?”
“The next person to suggest a book genre will be on dinner clean-up for a week,” he muttered into the book.
“Okay, buuuuuut,” Ashido asked, “you'll totally tell us who's guess was right?”
He looked at the class. “Even if one of you had guessed correctly, no. And Midoriya, I can hear you muttering to yourself about other possible genres.”
Midoriya's eyes went wide, and the entire class fell silent.
“Responsive essay. You have the rest of the period. Your favorite genre of reading material. What appeals to you about it? What wants and needs does it satisfy? If you have time, consider other genres to explore to meet other needs. And Mineta - keep it school-appropriate.”
Mineta groaned. “Yes, sensei.”
Shōta returned to his book.
Ages 6-8 are critical in developing social confidence. Many children have settled into full days at school and are beginning to identify favored peers during group activities…
He heard the scream and knew who it was before his phone rang or the PA system activated.
Shōta was in the middle of hero ethics with 2-B. He immediately went to the window. As he worked it open and began to scan the grounds, he barked out, “keep reading.”
Then he was soaring with the help of his capture weapon, heading toward Eri's hysterical crying.
Erasure was already active when he landed. Eri stopped screaming but panted and whimpered instead. She was curled up on the grass near the gate. Ectoplasm had made a perimeter of his clones around her.
The Ectoplasm in his line of sight raised an eyebrow when Shōta stumbled the last 2 steps before stopping.
“There was a student wearing a green coat,” Ectoplasm explained simply.
Shōta nodded and sat on the grass a few feet from Eri. Hesitantly, he let his quirk drop but he didn't dare to close his eyes for long.
Low, quiet, and slow, he began to speak to her. “Eri-chan, listen close to my voice, okay? You are safe.”
Shōta scooted a little closer on the grass. Eri didn't move away.
“You are at UA. UA is safe,” he went on. “There are a lot of people here that will protect you.”
She hiccuped.
“Ectoplasm-san is here. He would keep you safe,” he continued.
A little closer. Quiet and still now.
“I'm here. I would keep you safe,” he said softly, reaching to smooth her hair.
As soon as his hand touched Eri, her quirk flared and she screamed. He erased it.
She lashed out. Shōta let her kick, claw, and bite him until she ran out of steam. He was the one who had made it worse. He felt like he deserved it for scaring her so badly.
Shōta sat on Naomasa's couch. He was in a valiant battle against both a case report and exhaustion. He held a fruit puree packet in his teeth and drank some any time he started to drift off.
Naomasa watched him go through a few rapid cycles of this. “How do you even function?”
Shōta sighed heavily, closing the laptop and his eyes. “I don't.”
“At least you're honest with yourself,” Naomasa sighed back.
“You're just as bad,” Shōta retorted, slurping all the rest in one go.
The detective opened his mouth to argue, but all that came out were the spontaneous hysterical giggles of his 18th hour straight at work.
Shōta opened one eye and smirked at Naomasa. “Case in point.”
“Fair, fair,” Naomasa said. He wiped his eyes and struggled to get a hold on himself.
Shōta threw the empty pouch into the trash can across the room. It was easy given the innumerable late nights like this one. Plenty of practice.
Naomasa worked to reorganize and restack his own work, also accepting that he wasn't getting any more done.
“I hear that you've been scarce on campus lately. More than usual,” he added. “Are you…?”
Shōta crossed his arms and leaned back on the couch, daring Naomasa to say the word “okay.”
“Just…hold on a sec,” Naomasa said placatingly. “I want to play something for you.”
Naomasa dug around in his middle desk drawer. He ultimately pulled out his digital audio recorder. He referenced a notebook so he could find the recording he was looking for.
“This was 2 days ago," Naomasa explained as he hit play.
“Eri, what do you think of living at UA?” a bubbly woman asked.
“I like it, and it's fun to be with the nice heroes all the time,” Eri answered the woman.
“I bet!” the woman laughed. “You know, we normally have kids go to live in a regular house with a regular family. Would you like that?”
“No. Nobody would want me.”
His looked at Naomasa, arms going slack and face turning pale.
“I think there are lots of families that would want you,” the woman reassured her.
“No,” Eri said without hesitation. “I hurt people. Even without my quirk, I hurt people.”
Shōta stared at Naomasa like he'd been slapped.
Naomasa touched his ear, gesturing for him to keep listening.
“Well, let's play pretend that you don't have to worry about that,” the social worker went on. “You can pick any place in Japan, to have any type of home to live in, and any kind of family. What would you want?”
Eri sounded doubtful now. “And in pretend, they would for sure want me and keep me forever?”
“You got it, smart girl!” the woman cheered.
“Oh,” Eri said. “I'd live at UA with Mr. Eraser-san.”
Naomasa pressed pause and smiled gently. “Shōta, that little girl has decided that in her big, scary, confusing world, you feel the most like home.”
Shōta closed his eyes for a moment and cleared his throat. “What time is it, Nao?”
His brain was both nowhere and everywhere at once.
“5:40,” Naomasa answered. “You want a ride over?”
When he burst into the teacher's dorms, Eri was sitting at the end of the table nearest to the kitchen. She stopped with her spoonful of cereal halfway to her mouth.
“Hi, Eri-chan.”
She put down the spoon and frowned. “Hi.”
Nemuri poked her head out of the kitchen. Upon seeing him, she grinned and disappeared again.
After putting his shoes & bag away in a hurry, he walked over to sit next to her.
“Mr. Eraser-san?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you mad at me?”
He paused and tilted his head, knowing she wouldn't believe an answer that was given too quickly. “No.”
“Not even…a little?”
He shook his head.
“How come?”
“Why do you think I would be mad?”
Eri's perplexed expression would be adorable if it wasn't for the meaning behind it. “I hurt you a lot.”
“When people get scared, sometimes they aren't really deciding what to do.” Shōta said. “It was you, but not really you.”
Eri stared into her cereal bowl. “I don't like being scared.”
“it feels bad, ” Shōta agreed.
“I'm scared all the time.” Eri stole a quick look at him.
Shōta took a deep breath. “Can I tell you a secret?”
Eri lifted her head and nodded.
He whispered to her. “I'm scared right now.”
Eri looked at him in open shock.
Shōta was taking a gamble that she wanted to feel normal more than she wanted perfect adults with all the answers.
Hesitantly, he spoke barely loud enough for her to hear. “I'm scared that I will move wrong and make you afraid. I'm scared that I'll say something that will make you sad. I want to make sure you feel safe and loved, but I'm scared that there's someone better out there.”
Eri examined him closely, trying to decide if he was telling the truth.
“I think I would like it if you lived with me all the time.” He chewed on his lip and looked at her. “Would you like that too?”
“Really?” Eri's eyes filled with tears.
Suddenly he had a lap full of sobbing Eri. At first, he didn't know how to react. Then he wrapped his arms around her tightly.
“Yeah, kid. For forever.”