Work Text:
Taking the same orders and making the same drinks over and over again was an unappealing aspect of work for many of your coworkers. You, however, had always found comfort in monotony, allowing yourself to get lost in the cozy atmosphere of the coffee shop. Ironically, working often felt like the only time you could take a break from the burdens of everyday life. Most importantly, it was a place where no one knew anything about you. They didn’t know you contributed nothing to society. That you haven’t been able to make a single friend since elementary school. That you were quirkless.
You stood at the register, zoned out staring at a crumb on the counter. Your heart was heavy in a way that not even the flow of work could distract you from. Things had been really tough with your dad this week and school was especially unforgiving. You knew that you should be restocking or cleaning but you just couldn’t summon the motivation to move your body.
The door chimed and you glanced up to see one of your regulars approach the register. He had been coming in long before you were hired but was always patient and tipped well, though you had to admit that he intimidated you quite a bit.
“Hi Mr. Aizawa! How are you doing tonight?” You greeted him cheerfully despite your mood being less than stellar.
He nodded. “Good. You?” Not much of a talker that’s for sure.
”Great! Would you like your usual?” You cringed at how overly enthusiastic your response was, but it was almost the end of your shift and if you stopped smiling now you weren’t sure that you could keep up the cheery attitude.
At Mr. Aizawa’s affirmative nod you began to ring up his order which was always…it was…shoot, why couldn’t you remember? Your fingers hovered over the keypad, mind racing for no apparent reason. You had made this order almost every day for the past year, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t sort through the fog in your brain.
“Black coffee, no cream or sugar, and a blueberry muffin.” You startled as Mr. Aizawa’s voice pulled you out of your confusion.
You nervously met his eyes, which were slightly narrowed. Clearing your throat and letting out an awkward laugh you stammered, “Oh! Yeah of course, silly me!”
His eyes remained narrowed which freaked you out a bit but he didn’t say anything else, so you turned away to make his coffee and heat up the muffin. Your smile dropped as soon as you turned, the side of your face aching; likely resulting from a combination of holding your smile for so long as well as getting ambushed by a bunch of girls at school. You winced as you replayed the scene in your head.
You walked toward your 7th period, head down, hoping to avoid any attention. Passing periods were always the riskiest, especially at the end of the day when other kids started to get bored and the teachers stopped caring. Not like they cared much in the first place anyway.
You quickly turned a corner only to run straight into the person you wanted to avoid most. Nikki. She’d had it out for you since middle school when you had tried to sit at the same lunch table as her group. Ever since then, she never passed up the opportunity to “put you in your place” and humiliate you in front of your classmates. It had gotten much worse once she failed the UA entrance exam and was forced to attend the same high school as you, the useless kid without a quirk.
Your heart sank as you muttered a quick apology and attempted to dart past her before she could do anything. Unfortunately for you, her friends were all present and blocked your path. You stopped resisting, knowing that the effort would be in vain and would likely only prompt them to hurt you more. You were shoved back roughly into the wall as Nikki jeered “God how pathetic are you? Can’t even look where you’re going?”
You stared at the floor tiles, tracing the edges with your eyes and desperately hoping they would get bored and leave you alone. Your head painfully slammed into the lockers behind you as Nikki’s fist connected with your jaw. Your hands flew to your face but you refused to look at the girl. She scoffed at your lack of response and grabbed your collar, clearly ready to throw another punch, when the warning bell rang. “Fucking lucky” she spat out and roughly released you.
The group began to retreat, but not before shoving you hard enough to completely lose your balance. You landed on your shoulder, a sharp hiss of pain escaping your lips. Your eyes welled with tears as you listened to the girls' fading laughs.
You had ended up skipping your last two classes, not even caring about the punishment. That is, if your teachers even noticed you were missing.
You blinked, pulling yourself out of the memory. Luckily your shoulder only hurt if you put strain on it and did not impede much with your job. You put on the most convincing smile you could muster before turning around to give Mr. Aizawa his order. It surprised you when he spoke again. Usually he never spoke unless it was absolutely necessary. “What happened to your face?” His voice was so monotone you almost didn’t realize it was meant to be a question.
Shit. The last time you checked the mirror it hadn’t looked like it would bruise, at least not badly enough to be noticeable! You wracked your brain trying to come up with a plausible excuse. “Oh! Uh one of my friends accidentally hit me with a ball in PE, but…um, I’m fine! It doesn’t even hurt that much!” You cursed yourself for tripping over your words but overall felt like your story was pretty convincing.
His gaze lingered for a second longer before he let out a hum and turned to go sit down. Mr. Aizawa had always piqued your interest. You could never get a good read on what he was thinking and he always came in near closing time. What would he be out so late for?
Checking the clock you realized that it was almost 10 PM. You breathed a sigh of relief at the prospect of finally getting to crawl into bed. Usually you were disappointed to have to leave the warmth of the cafe, but today all you wanted to do was sleep and be rid of your thoughts for a few hours. After going through all of the closing procedures, you scanned the room and realized that Mr. Aizawa had already left.
You grabbed your backpack, having come straight to work after school, turned off the lights, and began the walk to the subway. The air was cold and you pulled your thin sleeves over your hands to try and keep out the chill. You really wished you had worn a thicker sweater today. Luckily it was only about a 10 minute walk from the shop to the station so you didn’t have to suffer for long.
The station was usually surprisingly clean which was always a small comfort at the end of the day. As you sat and waited for your ride you realized there were only a few people waiting with you. You quickly grew bored of the silence and decided that some music would cheer you up. As you rooted around in your backpack for your phone, your hand grazed an unfamiliar piece of folded paper. You brought it out of the bag and tilted your head in curiosity. It was probably just an old homework assignment but you opened it anyway.
If you really want to help people go ahead and kill y-
You crumpled up the paper and shoved it in your pocket, already knowing what the rest said and not having the strength to confirm its existence by reading it. Your breathing became shallow and it took all of your focus to hold back tears. With shaky hands you reached back into your bag and found your phone. No new messages. Not a single notification had appeared since you had left the house at 6:00 that morning. For some reason this was the final push you needed to take matters into your own hands.
The roar of the train signaled its approach, but you were no longer waiting for it. You wouldn’t be coming home tonight. Or any other night. You abruptly stood, grabbing your backpack. You winced as you slung it over your injured shoulder, but that was the least of your worries. As you rushed toward the exit, you spared a hasty glance behind you, at your last chance to turn back. No, this was for the best. You wouldn’t back out now.
Your determination was interrupted when you collided with someone. Not even looking to see who it was, you began to apologize. “Oh my gosh I am so so sorry! I should’ve been looking-“
”Calm down kid, it was an accident.” Wait. You knew that voice. The voice of the only consistently kind, or at least polite, person in your life.
”M-Mr. Aizawa? Uh sorry again! I was just leaving, have a good night!” You did your best not to sound hysterical, but you knew your voice was a higher pitch than normal.
You started walking away again, eager to stop bothering the man. “Hey wait, isn’t this your ride?”
Your eyes widened and you tilted your head as you looked back at him. That was a little creepy. “Uh…how did you know that?”
”I take the subway home at the same time as you, I usually see you here.” You decided that he probably wasn’t stalking you.
”Oh…I’ve never noticed you here before! Well I’m…I’m staying with my aunt tonight so I’m not taking the subway.” You lowered your eyes but you could still feel the weight of his gaze on you. Why was he asking you all these questions? Why did he even care? He doesn’t care, you reminded yourself, he’s just being polite. In fact you were probably making him miss his stop. Before he could say anything else you blurted something about not wanting to worry your aunt and bolted.
You shivered in the cold night air. Now that you were truly alone, the weight of your thoughts came crashing down with overwhelming force. You found yourself unable to contain your tears. You didn’t know how long you had been walking when a set of fire escape stairs hidden in a dark alley caught your attention. You headed towards them without a second thought. Your body moved mechanically, going higher and higher until you finally reached the roof.
You slowed down once you got to the top. You took your time setting your backpack down. You considered sending your dad a goodbye text but ultimately decided that he wouldn’t care much either way. You reached to pull the note out of your pocket when you realized it was empty. It wouldn’t make a difference if you had it or not. The words were engraved in your mind anyway.
You took slow, measured steps to the edge of the roof. You found yourself feeling scared as you stepped up on the ledge. Your whole body shook and you couldn’t stop staring at the pavement below. This was the right choice. The only choice. Quirkless losers like you weren’t meant to have bright futures, or futures at all. You reflected on the kid that you were before everyone else got their quirks and left you behind. You used to be so happy, curious, and outgoing. You had loved your friends and family, and they had loved you. Everyone had waited for you to get your quirk, most just thinking you were a late bloomer, because being quirkless in the new generation was a rarity. Slowly, they began to realize that you were just a waste of space that could never keep up with people like them. Even your own mother wouldn’t look at you with the same love she had before.
You inched forward.
Your fear was paralyzing. Body refusing to cooperate with your mind. The world would be better off with you gone. You knew this to be fact. So why couldn’t you just step forward? For some reason your thoughts drifted to Mr. Aizawa.
He had told you to call him Shouta a while ago, but you just were never able to break the habit. He had a kind of quiet kindness that often went unnoticed. You remembered one day when you had a very overwhelming shift and had dropped a carton of milk. The mistake felt like a big deal at the time and your eyes had watered with embarrassment and stress. You began to clean it up, still holding back tears, when you felt a hand rest on your shoulder. Aizawa had helped you clean it, and although he didn’t say much, it would be a rare act of kindness that you would likely never forget. You hadn’t been able to wrap your head around the idea that someone would inconvenience themselves for your benefit. To be honest you still couldn’t understand it.
Were there other people out there like Mr. Aizawa? A deep sense of longing weighed on your heart as you remembered that Mr. Aizawa still didn’t know who you truly were, and there was a good chance that he would react the same way as everybody else. Even so, a tiny seed of hope had been planted in your mind. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized that a small part of you didn’t want to die.
_________________
Shouta had known something was wrong ever since he had walked into the cafe as usual 2 weeks ago. He always came in after finishing up work at UA. Technically the school day ended at 4 in the afternoon, but Shouta always stayed behind to grade the never ending stream of papers. At least that’s what he intended to do. In truth, he often just fell asleep after all of his students left, only to wake up a couple hours later, in desperate need of coffee to keep him awake so that he could actually get some work done.
He also looked forward to seeing you, though he would rather die than admit it out loud. He didn’t know when it started, but somewhere along the way, Shouta grew quite fond of your bubbly (if not a little awkward) personality. It had taken him by surprise when you continued to be cheerful and friendly despite the hero’s unapproachable nature. Most people were too intimidated to try to make conversation, but his blunt, one-word answers had barely even phased you.
At that point Shouta had been coming to the cafe for so long that he didn’t even need to voice his order. You still tried to make conversation with him, even though your attempts were thwarted nine times out of ten. However, sometimes when Shouta had a particularly good day, he would have enough energy to indulge in a bit of small talk. He never shared anything that might link him to UA or hero work. You were pretty evasive with personal questions as well, he noticed, and while it was never outright cause for concern, he kept a note of it in the back of his mind.
Two weeks ago, Shouta had walked into the cafe, expecting your upbeat greeting, only to be met with an unusual silence. He glanced up to find you at the register, staring at the counter, completely lost in your thoughts. He had to call your name a few times to snap you out of it. His concern grew when you flinched and met his gaze with an expression that he could only describe as fear. You had quickly recovered and laughed it off, making him question if it had even happened.
Shouta kept a closer eye on you after that day, and he did not like what he was noticing. You had become more distant, your words lacking enthusiasm, and your smile not quite reaching your eyes. He noticed the bruises that you tried to hide under long sleeves. So today, of course he noticed the discoloration creeping up your jaw the moment he walked in. Shouta wanted so badly to ask you about it, but he knew you had likely been hiding this for a reason, and he didn’t want to overstep and potentially scare you away.
His unease was solidified when you couldn’t remember his order. The one that you hadn’t forgotten once in the past 11 months. You brushed past it, but Shouta could see how it had bothered you.
He almost felt creepy for watching you this intently, but he had a gut feeling, and from countless years of teaching and hero work, he had learned to listen to that feeling. When you turned to hand over the order, Shouta decided to finally question you.
“Oh! Uh one of my friends accidentally hit me with a ball in PE, but um I’m fine it doesn’t even hurt that much!”
As expected, you made up an excuse that Shouta could see right through. He let out a small sigh but eventually broke eye contact and sat down.
Shouta wasn’t a stranger to this behavior, in fact it reminded him of his own childhood in some ways. He just wished that there was some way to help you without overstepping or making you uncomfortable. After all, he was just a random guy that you made coffee for. Surely you had others that you could turn to for support… right? Shaking his head, he found himself wondering about your quirk. He had found that many people with “weak” or “villainous” quirks often exhibited similar traits due to ostracization from others with more revered quirks.
A text from Hizashi asking him to make a quick stop at the grocery store interrupted his thoughts. With one last glance toward the counter, Shouta left. He would figure out how to approach your situation once he got home. At the very least let you know his help was there if you wanted it.
Shouta was running a bit later than usual due to the unexpected shopping trip but thankfully he made it just as the train was arriving. He had just entered the station when someone ran straight into him. He looked down, initially in annoyance though it quickly morphed into worry when he saw it was you.
”Calm down kid, it was an accident” he tried to appear more reassuring upon hearing your frantic apologies. “And please call me Shouta,” he reminded as an afterthought. When you finally looked up, you bore an expression of such defeat and hopelessness that gave Shouta an extreme sense of dread.
You kept glancing toward the exit and nervously fidgeting with the strings of your hoodie. Before you could leave (strangely in the opposite direction of your usual ride), Shouta decided to question you about it.
“I’m staying with my aunt tonight so I’m not taking the subway.” After years of experience questioning villains, or his own students for that matter, Shouta immediately clocked mannerisms commonly seen when someone is lying. Something was off with your explanation. First of all, your refusal to make eye contact and change in pitch was a dead giveaway. It also didn’t make sense why you would be at the station at all if you didn’t need to take the subway in the first place.
The hero was snapped out of his thoughts when you said a quick goodbye and hurriedly left before he could stop you. As he watched you disappear, his attention was caught by small crumpled paper that had slipped out of your pocket. He hesitated, glancing back at the train which would soon depart. Screw it. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d be home much later than expected and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. With a deep sigh, Shouta retrieved the paper and unfolded it. He barely finished reading it before bolting out of the station.
____________________
You felt completely numb as you stepped back onto the stable ground of the roof and sat with your back to the edge. You hugged your knees to your chest and bowed your head. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself cry.
‘I’m such a coward. I’m too scared to die but continuing to live this way is just as terrifying. Maybe I should just get over myself and jump while I’m already up here. After all, what future is there for me? If I don’t have a quirk what am I even good for?’
You felt so lost and so alone. The only person that had shown you an ounce of kindness in the past several years was just a customer that you really didn’t even know that much about. You sat there, contemplating your existence, tears slipping down your face, for what felt like hours but in reality was only about 15 minutes. You were so consumed in your thoughts that you didn’t hear footsteps approaching you.
“Mind if I sit?” You jumped slightly and looked up at the sound of Mr. Aizawa’s voice. You couldn’t gather the energy to object so you just shrugged and turned your head away from the man. You attempted to wipe your tears away but gave up when they were immediately replaced with new ones.
You tensed in anticipation of a lecture or a threat to call your parents, but gradually relaxed when none came. “Rough day?” His voice was softer than you had ever heard it before. Gentle in a way that no one had spoken to you in a long time. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted the thought that had been consuming your mind since you stepped away from the edge.
“I couldn’t even end it properly.” It came out as a hoarse whisper. You should have felt panicked that you had outright told Mr. Aizawa that you wanted to kill yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough to backtrack. In fact, it felt somewhat relieving to say it out loud. To tell someone else that you were also aware of your worth. To make sure he knew you weren’t delusional.
You were busy staring at the ground in front of you. You couldn’t bring yourself to see his expression, which was likely annoyed at having to deal with a dramatic teenager. “What makes you think you should end it?”
You scoffed at the question. “Because I have nothing to offer the world.”
“I think we both know that’s not true.”
“It is.”
He sighed. “Everyone has something that-”
You cut him off, suddenly irritated by his inability to understand. “Well I don’t, ok? You just…you don’t get it!” You pursed your lips, trying to hold back a fresh wave of tears.
“Then help me understand.” Despite your outburst, Shouta’s voice remained as calm and patient as ever.
Finally daring to make eye contact, you hesitated, knowing you couldn’t lie, but also hating the inevitable look that would appear on his face as he realized that you were right and that he shouldn’t have bothered with you in the first place. Maybe this rejection would give you the strength to do what you should have done a long time ago. Your breathing came in uneven, shallow bursts as, for the first time in your life, you willingly exposed the ugliest part of yourself. “I’m quirkless.”
The man’s expression morphed into something colder, but he didn’t say anything so you kept going. “I’m useless. I have no one that will be hurt if I’m gone. So um… I’m sorry for wasting so much of your time by not telling you sooner. I just…” Your words wavered as tears that you could no longer contain escaped. “It-it was just nice to have s-someone to talk to.”
The silence that followed your confession was deafening. You continued to watch his expression, trying to gather any clue as to what he was thinking. “Listen kid, your quirk status does not define your worth, and whoever has told you otherwise is a damn idiot.”
You froze in shock at the man’s words. Nobody in your entire life had ever said something like that before. You let out a confused laugh, because he had to be joking? Shouta quirked an eyebrow at your reaction. “I mean, you… you’re messing with me right?” The waver had gone from your voice as confusion and shock overtook all other senses.
Shouta’s features softened almost imperceptibly. “No, I’m serious.”
“Oh.”
A beat of silence passed. “Who gave you that note?” Shouta’s voice was gentle but there was underlying anger present.
You shrugged. “I didn’t see who it was.” Though you knew it was probably Nikki.
“And what about that bruise on your jaw?”
You hesitated before deciding that there was no point in not telling him. “...That was, um, Nikki. She’s been like that since middle school. It’s ok though, she let me off easy today.” You let out an awkward laugh.
“You consider this being let off easy?” He gestured to your face as he spoke. You just nodded, not knowing what else to say. He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Do your teachers intervene at all?”
“No. I’m difficult to handle in class and I’m not very smart so they don’t care.” The statement comes out robotic and well practiced. It was something you repeated to your dad when he would ask why you got sent home early so often. Something that had been drilled into your mind so much that you had almost started to believe it.
Shouta scoffed in disdain. “I highly doubt that’s actually true. You’re a good kid.”
You let out a small laugh and muttered “Th-Thanks.”
As the two of you sat there, you found yourself aching to hug him. Would that be weird? Obviously he was very kind, but it’s not like you really knew him that well. Would he be annoyed at the request or think it was childish? You supposed you didn’t have much to lose by just asking.
You stared at the ground and fidgeted as embarrassment flooded through you. “Um… Mr. Ai- sorry, I mean Shouta?” He hummed in response, encouraging you to continue. “Well, um, you totally don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I was wondering if m-maybe there was any chance I could um, have a hug…?” Your voice trailed off at the end and you squeezed your eyes shut in humiliation.
Just as you were about to open your mouth and start backtracking, you felt a pair of arms gently wrap around you. You shakily returned the embrace and allowed yourself to melt into the unknown feeling of warmth and security. It took a moment to register that you were crying but you didn’t try to stop yourself. You just felt so… safe. Shouta’s arms tightened around you protectively and rubbed comforting circles on your back.
“I'm sorry that life has been so hard on you, kid. You don’t deserve any of it.”
Whatever control you had over your emotions broke in that moment. Sobs that had been suppressed for far too long wracked your body and you clung to Shouta like a lifeline. Despite the fact that you were probably getting tears all over his shirt, he stayed and held you for as long as you needed.
The last time anyone had held you like this must have been before you were diagnosed. It felt so foreign to be so vulnerable with anyone, let alone someone who surely only saw you as an acquaintance, yet you found yourself trusting him wholeheartedly.
When you finally pulled away, your eyes were puffy and you were definitely going to have a headache later. “Thank you, I-I can’t even remember the last time someone…” You trailed off.
Shouta smiled softly, though it seemed a bit sad. You had only ever seen the man smile once or twice so it caught you off guard. “Anytime kid.” You smiled back.
Checking the time, you decided you should probably head home. You got up and started to move toward your backpack. “Well, uh, it’s getting kind of late so I’ll let you go now. Thank you again. For everything.”
Shouta stood as well. “Hang on kid, I can’t just let you go off alone after something like this.”
You furrowed your brow. “I promise I’m not going to try and um, kill myself again.” You smiled awkwardly at the bluntness of it all.
“I know, but it’s my job not only as a hero, but as someone who cares about you to make sure that you make it home safe.” You froze mid-reach for your bag before spinning around, jaw dropped.
“You-You’re a hero?! I thought you were a teacher!” Your mind was racing as you analyzed the man’s appearance, searching for any clue of his hero persona.
Shouta grimaced. “Ah, right. I am a teacher… at UA High School. I am an underground hero so I try to keep my identity as private as possible.”
You stared blankly before questioning him further. “What’s your hero name? And what about your quirk?”
“Eraserhead. I can erase people’s quirks by looking at them.”
“Wow… I can’t believe I’ve been talking to a hero this whole time! That’s so cool!” Your excitement briefly made you forget your current dilemma. Shouta offered a small smile and shrugged.
“Anyway, are your parents home right now?”
“Uh it’s just my dad but he should be home.” You turned back around and grabbed your backpack.
“Ok, is it alright if I walk you home and speak with him?” You cringed at the idea of your dad knowing what had happened and that a hero had to get involved.
“He’s probably asleep, so… um, no.” Shouta raised his eyebrows.
“He wouldn’t wait up for you to get back?”
You shook your head. “I’m old enough that he doesn’t need to worry about me. But I really don’t want to get my dad involved. Please?”
Shouta sighed, clearly trying to decide how to approach this. “Fine. Just for now. I’m still walking you home though. Lead the way.”
Your shoulders slumped as you let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t like your dad was abusive or anything, it was just clear to you that your presence wasn’t necessarily appreciated. You never blamed him for it though. Having a quirkless child was most parents' worst nightmare, and he treated you better than most.
With that, the two of you began the trek to your apartment. Unfortunately, you had to take the long way since the train wasn’t operating at this hour, but Shouta didn’t seem to mind the time. Although no words were exchanged on the walk back, you somehow felt more heard than ever before.
You fumbled with your keys as you approached your door. “This is my apartment. Um, I guess I’ll see you around?”
Shouta nodded but held out a folded piece of paper before you turned around. You cautiously took it, half expecting it to be the note that had driven you to the roof earlier that day. Your eyes widened in surprise to find a… phone number? Though the man had been nothing but kind to you, it was still unexpected that he would want to deal with you after that mess.
You looked back to him, a questioning look in your eyes.
Sensing your hesitation, Shouta cut off your thoughts. “Call me if you need anything, kid. I mean it.”
You glanced between the paper and Shouta one more time. Before you could stop yourself, you stepped forward and hugged him, completely overcome with gratitude and disbelief that someone could show you such kindness.
As you closed the door behind you, you took in the cold surroundings of the apartment. An environment that usually filled you with despair and loneliness, now couldn’t dismantle the hope that blossomed within you. For the first time in your life, you had hope that maybe there was a place for you in this life. A purpose you had yet to fulfill, people you had yet to meet, dreams you had yet to achieve, and a person you had yet to become.