Chapter Text
One
Throw the cloth. Wrap it around the—
“Dammit!” Hitoshi grunted as he collapsed to the ground, tangled in his capture weapon.
Sweat trickled down his forehead and into his eyes. He clenched his eyes shut and grit his teeth at the sting. He wriggled his arm free from the cloth trapping it against his head. He could only imagine what he looked like at the moment. Considering the amused curve of his mentor’s mouth, he probably guessed he bared some sort of resemblance to a cat tangled in a bunch of white yarn.
“Try again.”
He huffed. Obviously, the man wasn’t going to help him. After unraveling himself, he clamored back to his feet and gripped the cloth tight in his hands. He stared down the tree in front of him.
You’re just wrapping this around the lowest branch. It’s not that hard. Watch your feet. Find your balance. Throw the cloth. Stay upright.
He missed.
He completely missed.
One end of the cloth flopped uselessly on the ground. He sunk down to his knees and pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a deep, shaky breath.
I missed again. I…I’m wasting his time.
He could hear footsteps approaching him and could feel the hero looming over him. He shrunk down, resting back on his heels.
“Shinsou—“
“I’m sorry,” he interrupted. “I’m really sorry. I promise I’ll try harder. Please, just don’t leave—“
“Shinsou!” A hand on his shoulder caused him to look up, eyes widening when he realized Shouta had crouched down next to him. “This is only our second day with the capture weapon. I don’t expect you to master it in that time. I don’t expect you to master it in a year. I’m not leaving you because you’re learning something new.”
After a few seconds, Hitoshi’s shoulders began to relax, but Shouta’s grip never relinquished. He could feel his mentor’s concerned gaze boring into him, but the man didn’t say anything else. Clenching the fabric tight in his hands, he slowly rose to his feet. Shouta followed suit, and his hand remained on his shoulder.
“You didn’t learn to throw a punch or land a decent kick in just two days, did you?” Hitoshi shook his head. “Learning new skills doesn’t get easier just because you’ve mastered a few. Have a little more patience with yourself. Let’s try again.”
Shouta finally let go of his shoulder.
Somehow, the warmth his hand left in its wake never faded while they finished training that day.
Two
Beep.
Hitoshi cringed at the noise, his head aching at the movement. Darkness consumed his vision, but it started to fade with each passing second.
Beep.
He wanted nothing more than to plunge headfirst back into the slumber that previously consumed him. A medicated heaviness plagued him, making it near impossible to actually open his eyes or move his limbs.
Beep.
Voices echoed around him, bringing him further back into consciousness.
What…the hell….
“I’m his…contact….” He could barely make out the words, as though he were listening with cotton stuffed into his ears, but they slowly started to become clearer. “What did his foster parents say?”
That voice….
Beep.
“His foster father appears to be the one who brought Shinsou in,” a woman’s voice answered. “He claims he fell down the stairs, but he left as soon as Shinsou was checked in. He only said to call him if there are any major changes in his condition.”
“He didn’t bother to stay?”
Despite the calmness to it, it was impossible for Hitoshi to miss the anger in the man’s tone.
Beep.
“That’s why we called you. He had his student identification on him, so we called Yuuei to see if he had another contact.”
Mustering up what little strength he had, he cracked his eyes open, only to clench them shut right away due to the bright white light blinding him. He groaned when a splitting headache consumed him.
“Can we dim the lights?”
Someone shuffled around the room. The light he could sense behind his eyelids darkened.
Beep.
He opened his eyes again, suddenly finding the strength to open them completely when he saw who was hovering over him. Just to his right, a nurse with long, black hair tied back into a ponytail stood by his bedside. She checked the heart rate monitor before scribbling on her clipboard. He tried to sit up, but the pain shooting through his ribs prevented the movement. He lifted his head just enough to get a glimpse of the white hospital gown he donned.
Why…am I in…a hospital?
Suddenly, the nurse fiddled with something at the side of his bed, and he felt himself rising into a half-lying, half-sitting postion. He also noted that only one arm laid next to his side. The other was wrapped up and in a sling, laying across his chest. Something shifted just to his left. His chest tightened when he saw Shouta now leaning over him. He closed his eyes and opened them again, as though the hero would disappear.
He was still there.
“How are you feeling, Shinsou?” He nearly jumped at the voice. The nurse now loomed over him. “Do you remember what happened?”
His eyebrows knitted together at her second question. He glanced around the room, finding the lone window. Moonlight streamed through the blinds.
What did happen?
His brain scrambled to remember anything after the train ride and walk back to his foster home. He sunk back into his pillows. Dread seeped into his bones.
The front door slammed shut. His blood froze, but he quickly felt around for the towel on the counter top. He looked back into the sink. Only a few cups and a couple plates remained. Hopefully, it would be enough.
“Why the hell aren’t you finished yet?”
He cringed at the voice cutting through the silent kitchen. He dropped the plate back into the sink, trying to muster up the courage to face his foster father.
“I h-had to—“
“I didn’t give you permission to speak!” He gripped the edge of the counter while the footsteps stomped closer to him. “We give you a roof over your head and food. All we ask in return is that you do a few chores for us before we get home, and you can’t even manage that? Have I not made our rules clear enough?”
A rough hand grabbed his arm and steered him away from the sink and toward the stairs leading to the basement. He tried to turn back into the kitchen. He had to finish his task.
“I’m sorry. I had to stay late after classes. I promise I’ll finish—“
“I didn’t give you permission to speak!” the man yelled again.
He gripped Hitoshi’s wrist and twisted his left arm behind him. His back arched, desperate to relieve the pain. With one last yank, Hitoshi heard a snap. A choked scream ripped its way out of his throat, but it did nothing to stop the man from pushing him toward the stairs.
“Now, look what you made me do. Maybe next time, you’ll be more considerate for the people that take care of you, kid.”
A shove at his back sent him toppling down the stairs. His head hit the railing, and everything faded to black.
“Shinsou?”
A hand grabbed his shoulder, and he nearly fell off his bed at the contact. A pair of strong arms kept him upright. His chest heaved, and his ribs further ached at the movement. He blinked. The room slowly became a bit clearer, despite the dimness to it. He blinked again before turning his gaze to the man at his left. Shouta’s hand still hung in the air, exactly where his shoulder had been.
“Are you okay?” the nurse asked.
He swallowed, his throat desert dry. It took a few seconds for him to find his voice.
“Y-yeah,” he muttered. He looked over his shoulder and saw it was her that stopped him from falling off the bed. She adjusted him so he relaxed back against the pillows. “Thank you.”
He took a deep breath before he mustered up the courage to shift his gaze back to the erasure hero. Shouta had taken a step back from the bed. His arms were crossed, and Hitoshi could see the indentions where his fingers were digging into his arm. His lips quirked into a grim line.
Why did I jump? It’s just Aizawa-sensei. He didn’t do anything….
Hitoshi’s good hand rested in his lap, and he cast his eyes down.
“I’m going to get his doctor,” the nurse announced as she left the room. “I’ll also get him more pain medication. His IV drip is almost out.”
The door softly closed, leaving him alone with Shouta. The screech of a chair being pulled closer to the bed got him to glance back up. The man sat down, his elbows resting on his knees. His hands were clasped so tight that he could see the whiteness of his knuckles. It only took a few tense moments before Shouta broke the silence.
“Shinsou, your foster father said you fell down the stairs.”
Hitoshi grabbed the fabric of his gown, firmly clenching it between his fingers.
Yeah…I just fell down the stairs.
“That’s right,” he murmured.
“I spoke with your doctor earlier. It took twenty stitches to close up the gash on your head. You also have three cracked ribs and a spiral fracture in your left arm.”
He touched his head, feeling around until he felt the bandage covering it right below his hairline.
“I guess I fell pretty hard from the sounds of it.”
“Hitoshi,” the use of his first name caused him to finally look Shouta in the eye, “do you remember the maneuvers we’ve gone over in training?”
How could I forget anything you’ve taken the time to teach me?
He simply nodded.
“So you remember that you can cause a spiral fracture by twisting someone’s arm hard enough behind their back?”
He clenched the fabric so tight he could feel his fingernails digging into his palm.
“I...I fell down the stairs.”
The flash in his mentor’s eyes told him the man wasn’t buying it for a second.
“I can help—“
“My caseworker says the Ogawas are good people,” Hitoshi interrupted, ripping his gaze away from Shouta. “They give me food and a roof over my head. They didn’t…they…I just…fell.”
He winced at how pathetic he sounded. He heard Shouta shuffling beside him. He crouched down right next to the bed, ensuring he was eye-level with the boy. He didn’t speak until Hitoshi finally faced him again.
“We both know that’s not what happened, kid. I know I can’t force you to talk about it if you really don’t want to, but I want to help you, and I can if you let me.”
He…wants to help me…but would he….
“Would you believe me?”
Shouta didn’t hesitate for a second.
“Yes.”
Hitoshi completely slumped back against the pillows. His entire body trembled, but he managed to raise his good arm to cover his eyes. The door opened.
“It’s good to see you awake, Shinsou!”
Hitoshi moved his arm when the doctor walked in, smiling at the teen. The man looked down at his clipboard before speaking again, but he didn’t hear a single word.
Aizawa-sensei said he’d believe me…he’d actually believe me….
“We’ll be keeping you overnight to be safe. You’ll be staying with him, right, Aizawa-san?”
That instantly brought Hitoshi out of his thoughts. He looked to Shouta who was already nodding. The doctor left, but his nurse came back in and fiddled with his IV. After a couple minutes, the aching in his arm and ribs diminished, and his eyelids started to droop. When the two were finally alone again, he managed to find his voice.
“You’re…you’re really staying?”
Shouta sat back down in the chair.
“I’m not leaving you. Try to get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Not that Hitoshi had much of a choice in the matter. Thanks to the medication added to his IV drip, he was asleep within minutes.
And he woke up the next morning to find Shouta asleep in the chair next to his bed.
Three
Hitoshi laid down and curled up under the blanket. Despite the physical exhaustion, he couldn’t get himself to close his eyes. His mind raced as he touched the cast encasing his arm. Footsteps thundered overhead, and he flinched at the sound. He held his breath, silently praying they wouldn’t come down the steps. They faded as his foster parents made their way up to the second floor.
A thump near the basement window made him jump. His phone lit up a second later.
Aizawa: Sorry. It’s just me.
He bolted straight up, and his bed creaked at the sudden movement. He paused and listened. When he didn’t hear footsteps, he grabbed his phone, got up as quietly as he could, and shuffled over to the window. Sure enough, he caught sight of Shouta’s black jumpsuit. The hero had somehow crept in between the bushes and planted himself on the ground next to the basement window. He knew better than to try opening it, so he instantly tapped on his messages.
Shinsou: What are you doing here?
The three dots appeared on the screen. His heart pounded in his chest while he waited for Shouta’s reply.
Aizawa: I’m assuming they haven’t told you. You’re getting a new caseworker. There’s a lot of paperwork to take care of, so it’s going to be a couple days before everything’s processed and she can get you out of that house. I’ll keep watch over you until then.
His breath hitched in his throat, and his chest tightened as he re-read the text over and over.
I’ll keep watch over you until then.
His fingers shook as he tapped out the next message.
Shinsou: You really don’t have to.
The reply was instant.
Aizawa: I’m not leaving you.
Aizawa: You need to get some sleep. It’s going to be a long next few days. I won’t let anything happen. I promise.
Hitoshi bit his lip. For the sake of his own pride, he’d ignore the fact that the screen started to blur and he had to blink a few times to clear his vision. He’d ignore the wetness trailing down his cheeks.
Shinsou: …just until I fall asleep?
Aizawa: Even after. I’m not leaving. I know it’s hard, but you really need to get some sleep. I’m taking you to Recovery Girl tomorrow to see what she can do for your arm. You need all of the rest you can get.
Shinsou: Thank you, sensei.
He walked back over to his bed, carefully laying back down. He curled back up under the blanket. He let the exhaustion seeping into his bones consume his mind as well. Closing his eyes, he clutched the blanket even tighter around him and drifted off to sleep.
Four
“Hitoshi, get up here!”
Hitoshi opened his eyes, regretting the action instantly. He desired nothing more than to dive right back into unconsciousness. Rolling over onto his back, he stretched his arms over his head before letting out a massive yawn. He rubbed his eyes, but it did little to ease his exhaustion.
Aizawa-sensei really wasn’t kidding. These sessions with Recovery Girl take a lot out of you, but at least my arm and ribs are healed.
“Hitoshi, Takada-san is here to see you!” the sickeningly sweet voice of his foster mother called.
He froze.
She must be my new caseworker.
He was tempted to answer her, but he snapped his mouth shut. Deciding it best just to hurry and get dressed, he quickly threw on his school uniform pants and a long-sleeved white shirt and ran up the stairs. His foster parents were waiting in the living room. None of their biological or other foster kids were running through the room or the kitchen.
They all must be upstairs. It must be serious if they aren’t letting the other kids run around the house.
Much to his surprise, they stood when he entered, as well as the short brown-haired woman sitting in the chair across from them. She greeted him with a brilliant smile. She opened her mouth, but was quickly cut off before she could say anything.
“Takada-san is here to take you to your new home,” his foster father said, forcing a grin onto his face. “Why don’t you get your things packed? I’ll help—“
“No!” Takada’s sharp tone cut him off. “You two will stay here. I’ll go help him pack his things.”
Hitoshi’s eyes widened, but he was in no position to question, especially when Takada strolled past him and headed toward the basement stairs. His legs automatically followed his new caseworker. They descended the steps. Only then did Takada finally speak to him.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Shinsou. Aizawa has told me a lot about you. Although, I have to say you won’t be….” She trailed off when they reached the bottom step.
The two had made it down to Hitoshi’s room. Takada stared at the lone bed tucked between the stairs and the wall. The washer and dryer took up the majority of the space in the basement. There was no other furniture. There wasn’t room for any. Hitoshi’s books laid scattered across the floor. His backpack sat at the foot of his bed, as did his suitcase.
Hitoshi could see Takada’s jaw clench. She whipped out a notebook out of her bag and scribbled furiously on the paper. She took out her phone next. He stepped out of her way when she circled the room, snapping photos of everything she could see. She looked to his backpack and suitcase.
“Is this all you have?” she asked.
He nodded. Taking a deep breath, she started gathering his textbooks and putting them into his backpack. He stuffed his clothes into his suitcase and zipped it. Before he could pick it up, Takada grabbed it and was already heading up the stairs.
“We have to go. Now. You can’t stay here any longer.”
He slung his backpack over his shoulder and followed her out of the basement. She barely spared his foster parents a glance when she led him through the living room and to the front door. She held it open for him before leaning back into the house.
“You both can expect another visit from me this afternoon. Some of my colleagues will be joining me. I certainly hope that won’t be a problem.”
She stomped past him and motioned for him to follow. She opened the trunk of her car. She gently grabbed the backpack and pulled it off his shoulder before setting it inside with his suitcase.
“Why don’t you go ahead and get in?” she suggested.
Wordlessly, he climbed into the back of the car and waited. The trunk slammed shut. He peered out the back window. Takada leaned against the vehicle, taking a few deep breaths before getting in. She was silent when she started up the car and drove away from the house. Much to his relief, they had only been driving about ten minutes before the car slowed down.
Hitoshi looked out the window, eyebrows raising when he saw his caseworker pulling up to Musutafu’s courthouse.
Why is she taking me here?
“I’m sorry you had to see me lose my temper, Shinsou. Aizawa had warned me about what your living conditions might’ve been. I still can’t believe—I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. As I was saying earlier, I’m very happy to meet you, but this will likely be the one of the last times we see each other.”
The words forced him to look away from the window. She grinned at him in the rearview mirror while she parked the car.
“Why are we here?” he asked.
Takada’s grin only widened. She got out of the car, and Hitoshi followed suit. She opened the trunk again and retrieved his belongings. She handed him his backpack before picking up his suitcase and heading inside. He had to jog to catch up.
“You’re not going to another foster house. Your new guardian is inside finishing up the last of the paperwork. It’s going to be a few months before everything is finalized, but he’s already started the adoption process.”
Hitoshi screeched to a halt.
She didn’t just say that…she didn’t just say “adoption process.”
When she sensed he wasn’t behind her, she turned around. Her smile didn’t waver in the slightest. She set his suitcase down and approached him. She reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, but suddenly stopped and retracted her hand. Hitoshi didn’t even realize how tense his shoulders were until they ached.
“Shinsou, you’re a great kid. I don’t need to have known you long to see that. You deserve to have someone you can rely on. I understand this has to be a lot to process right now, but I sincerely hope you’ll be happy.”
Takada turned and headed back to the door, picking up his suitcase and holding the door open for him. As if in a trance, he followed her into the building. It was mostly empty, only a couple men in suits walking through the massive hall. He slowed as he approached the huge double doors that led to the courtroom. Takada gave him a reassuring glance over his shoulder as she put her hand on the door handle. He swallowed and entered.
Like the hall, the room was empty except for one person sitting at a table at the very front. Takada led him down the aisle to the empty chair at the table. Her heels clacking caught the attention of the black-haired man. Hitoshi did a double take when the man stood up.
“Aizawa-sensei?” The man had half of his hair pulled back and tied up in a bun. He was wearing a navy blue suit, and it was then Hitoshi realized he hadn’t ever seen the man out of his hero costume in person. His eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing….”
He trailed off as his eyes wandered to the table, noticing the file sitting open with a couple papers strewn about and a pen lying on top of them. He instantly recognized his mentor’s scrawl on them. His breath hitched.
“Your new guardian is inside finishing up the last of the paperwork.”
My new guardian….
“I would introduce you two,” Takada’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he didn’t have to look at the woman to know she was smiling, “but I don’t think that will be necessary.”
My new guardian….
His backpack started sliding off his shoulder, but he paid it no mind; not even when it completely slid down his arm and dropped to the ground. He couldn’t do anything but stare at the hero before him. Shouta took a step closer, closing the distance between them.
“Shinsou, I know this is a bit sudden, but I hope—“
He cut off with a grunt when Hitoshi practically launched himself at the hero and wrapped his arms around his waist. Hitoshi didn’t even realize his legs were shaking until he nearly collapsed. Fortunately, Shouta seemed to understand what was happening and caught him before he completely crashed to his knees. He gently lowered them both until they were on the floor, Hitoshi’s grip not relinquishing in the slightest. The boy turned his head from where it was buried against Shouta’s shoulder. The words of his new caseworker echoing in his brain.
“It’s going to be a few months before everything is finalized, but he’s already started the adoption process.”
“Y-you’re really not leaving me?” he asked.
Shouta tightened his arms around him, embracing him completely. He lowered his head, and Hitoshi could swear he felt the man smiling against his hair.
“No, kid, I’m not leaving you.”
Five
Hitoshi leaned over the toilet when his stomach lurched again, but gratefully it was a false alarm; not that he had anything else left in him to throw up. He closed his eyes and willed the nausea to pass. His entire body shivered, but he could feel the sweat soaking his shirt. Cool hands felt his forehead before brushing his hair back away from his face and holding it there.
“Do you think you’re going to throw up again?” Shouta asked.
Hitoshi took a couple deep breaths, then shook his head. Shouta adjusted him so he was leaning back against the bathroom wall. Sweat soaked his hair, a few droplets actually running down his face. He heard the faucet turn on. Next came the cabinet opening. He finally opened his eyes when Shouta sat down beside him.
“Here,” he said, handing him a small plastic cup and some pills. “This should bring your fever down. How’s your head?”
Hitoshi took the pills and gulped down the rest of the water.
“It hurts,” he mumbled.
He closed his eyes again, leaning his head back against the wall. He didn’t even realize he started sliding to the left until his head hit Shouta’s shoulder. His eyes snapped open and he instantly tried to right himself, but the man simply wrapped an arm around him to keep him in place.
“Just rest. Give the medicine some time to kick in.”
Hitoshi didn’t have the energy to protest or move at all. He simply laid against Shouta and tried to fight the next wave of nausea crashing over him. He wasn’t sure how long the two stayed like that; however long it was, Shouta didn’t seem to mind. He couldn’t help the relief flooding through him as the nausea started to fade and his headache started to subside.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed.
Shouta stiffened next to him.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“But you shouldn’t have to—“
“Hitoshi,” his chest tightened at the use of his first name, “I’ll tell you again: you have nothing to be sorry for. Everyone gets sick from time to time. That’s completely out of your control, and I want to take care of you.”
Hitoshi burrowed further into Shouta’s chest and clutched the man’s shirt. The arm around him held him even closer. Neither of them acknowledged the wetness seeping through onto Shouta’s shirt. The two didn’t move until Hitoshi’s shivering came to a stop. The hero bent his head down closer to his ear.
“We need to get you to bed. I don’t think the bathroom floor is the most comfortable place to spend the night.” Hitoshi grinned and nodded. “Do you think you can stand up?”
He reluctantly pulled away from Shouta and tried to stand, but the bathroom spun around him and he nearly fell over. Without a word, Shouta put an arm around his back to steady him and slightly stooped down to hook an arm under his knees. He carried Hitoshi out of the bathroom and down the hall to his own room. He laid the boy on top of his bed. Hitoshi’s heart sunk when Shouta left, but he returned with some extra blankets, not wasting a second before he covered the sick teen with them.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked while he tucked the blankets in around him.
Hitoshi nodded and curled up on his side. A gentle hand stroked his hair and lulled him closer to sleep. Hitoshi yawned. The hand in his hair stopped for the briefest moment. His eyes flung wide open.
Don’t leave.
“Will you stay?” he croaked.
The bed shifted when Shouta sat down next to him. Hitoshi could see a very slight grin on the man’s face.
“Of course.”
His eyelids started drooping. Consciousness slowly started to fade.
“You’re not leaving?”
Shouta started stroking his hair again.
“I’m not leaving.”
Hitoshi found himself sleeping through the entire night, and when he woke up the next morning to find Aizawa propped up against his headboard fast asleep, nothing could stop him from scooting closer to his adoptive father and drifting off again.
Plus One
Hitoshi crouched and leaned back against the crate, heart pounding in his chest. He tried to steady himself with his hands. Fire shot up through his right wrist, and he barely managed to stifle a cry of pain. He touched his busted artificial vocal cords. Any hope he had sunk when the device fell off completely. Shouta was right beside him and caught it before it could clang to the ground. The tattered remains of his capture weapon hung around his shoulders, and his jumpsuit was ripped on the right side of his chest. The hero’s hands unconsciously grabbed his quickly swelling ankle. Shouta didn’t say a word, but Hitoshi could imagine the thoughts racing through his mind.
That first explosion really caught him off guard, and he just spent the rest of his energy trying to hide us from the villains raiding the warehouse. This had to be a trap, and we don’t know how many of them there are. We’re both injured. He…he actually might not know a way out of this.
“We didn’t know you had a sidekick, Eraserhead!” a villain’s voice echoed throughout the warehouse. The two tense when a pair of footsteps passed by the crates they were hiding behind. “Unfortunately, we only need you, but if you cooperate, we’ll forget we ever saw the kid.”
His heart stopped when Shouta stiffened beside him. He grabbed the front of the hero’s jumpsuit.
“Don’t even think about it—“ he hissed, but suddenly found himself assaulted by a wave of heat and propelled through the air into the wall at the back of the warehouse.
He couldn’t stop the scream when he landed on his injured arm, but he barely heard it. His ears rang from the explosion. A hand grabbed him by his hair and yanked him up to his feet. His air was cut off when a strong arm wrapped around his throat. He clawed at it with his good hand, but it didn’t do him any good. Several pairs of footsteps approached him. From his limited range of vision, he could see three men just to his left and another two to his right.
“Mind Jack!”
His eyes darted around the warehouse, widening when he saw Shouta a few meters in front of him. The man struggled to his feet. His leg was shaking as he managed to gain his footing. He activated his quirk, eyes glowing red and hair floating. The villain next to him only laughed and took a couple steps forward.
“I’m afraid that won’t help you much, Eraserhead.” He simply folded his hands behind his back. “We’ve got orders we need to fulfill. Our boss is interested in that quirk of yours, and we’re supposed to bring you to him by whatever means necessary. We were told to kill any witnesses, but I don’t like the idea of killing a kid, so I’m willing to make the same offer: if you cooperate, we’ll forget we ever saw him. If you don’t, well….”
The leader trailed off, and the arm around his neck tightened to the point Hitoshi had black spots dancing in his vision. He gasped, desperately trying to suck in any oxygen he could and miserably failing. Shouta looked between Hitoshi and the villains around him. Despite his struggle to breathe, he couldn’t stop the pride from filling his chest.
He knows we’re injured and outnumbered, but Aizawa can still fight. He still has his knife. This villain knows he’s still a threat. He’s injured and it won’t be pretty, but he could get out of here. He won’t let them take him.
His heart dropped into his stomach when Shouta’s hair settled back down around his shoulders. The hero’s hands clenched into fists by his sides.
“You’ll let him go?”
He can’t seriously be considering….
The villain took another few steps closer to Shouta.
“You have my word, Eraserhead. I really don’t want to kill him if I don’t have to. I understand how difficult it must be for you to trust me, but I guess you don’t really have another choice, do you?”
Even though the man’s back was to him, he could imagine the smirk on the man’s face.
“Don’t…Er…aser….” he managed to choke out.
The warehouse was silent for a few moments, until the familiar gruff voice cut through it.
“Fine.”
No! He can’t…he’s not going to just let them do this….
The villain holding Hitoshi flung him back into the wall he’d just hit mere minutes ago. The black spots were more prominent when his head collided with the wall with a sickening thud. He slumped to the ground with his eyes screwed shut and lungs gulping all of the oxygen he could. He willed himself to get up. He opened his eyes, and the floor, crates, and villains all tilted before him. He put a hand to the back of his head, as if that would get the warehouse to stop spinning. Blood stained his hand when he pulled it back.
That doesn’t matter. Dammit, just get up!
The footsteps faded away from him while the villains converged on Shouta. Hitoshi focused all of his energy into staying conscious and trying to get up. He blinked to clear his vision as much as he could, only to see two of villains grabbing Shouta’s arms. Their leader approached the hero. He squinted when something sparked to life in the man’s hand.
How hard did I hit my head? I have to be imagining things…I have to focus.
He suddenly realized he wasn’t dreaming when the villain jammed the object into Shouta’s stomach. A crackle echoed throughout the warehouse a second later, and Shouta crumpled in the arms of the men holding him. Hitoshi pushed himself to his knees, and his stomach lurched at the movement. Sharp pain shot through his head while he tried to get a foot under him.
Get up! You can’t let them take him away!
Using the wall to steady himself was just a vain attempt to get to his feet. It only bought him an extra couple of seconds upright before he crashed back to the ground. He reached out with his good hand while the villains dragged Shouta to the door.
“No…Aizawa….”
His hand flopped uselessly to the ground.
Bang!
The villains were suddenly running and completely disappeared from view. Hitoshi’s eyebrows furrowed. New voices filled the warehouse, but they were too far away. The pounding in his head grew stronger. He clenched his eyes shut again. He could hear more footsteps approaching him.
“Mind Jack!”
Kirishima?
One pair of footsteps ran straight for him. He sensed a presence right in front of him, kneeling to join him on the ground. A gentle hand grabbed his shoulder. Despite the protests of his head and stomach, he forced his eyes open to see Eijirou on his knees in front of him. Tamaki and Fat Gum were just behind him. He took a deep breath and lifted his arm, pointing in the direction he’d seen the villains dragging Shouta.
“They…have Eraser….”
Luckily, the hero didn’t need any more information.
“Suneater, you’re with me!” Fat Gum ordered. “They couldn’t have made it far. Red Riot, get him out of here!”
When the two bolted out of his line of sight, he closed his eyes again. Eijirou carefully rolled him onto his back and put an arm under his shoulders to sit him up. Hitoshi groaned at the movement, and his classmate positioned himself behind him for support.
“Are you okay?” He could feel Eijirou flinch behind him. “I guess that’s a dumb question….”
Hitoshi didn’t hear what the other boy was saying. He blinked and stared up at the ceiling.
Aizawa’s gone…he’s just gone…no! Fat Gum and Amajiki are going to find him. They have to. Those villains won’t….
“Mind Jack!” His hero name snapped him out of his thoughts. A hand was waving in front of his face. “Do you have any other injuries I should know about?”
Hitoshi pointed to his right wrist. Eijirou nodded before grabbing him under the arms to help him stand. He slung Hitoshi’s good arm around his shoulders and locked an arm around his waist, allowing the brainwasher to lean most of his weight on him. Slowly but surely, the two students made it out of the warehouse.
Red and blue flashes lit up the dark industrial park. The cars drove right by the warehouse and further down the nearly abandoned road. Hitoshi automatically moved to follow, but Eijirou’s arm tightened around him.
“You can’t go after them,” he said sternly.
“But…Aizawa….”
“Fat Gum and Suneater are going after him, now. The police will help them if they haven’t caught them already. We were only a few blocks away when we heard the first explosion. Fat Gum knew this was part of Eraserhead’s patrol route. When neither of you would pick up your phones, he called for backup. They’ll find him.”
Hitoshi could only nod. Eijirou propped him up against the side of the building before rushing back inside and bringing out a crate for him to sit on. He leaned back, relishing the coolness against what he could only guess was a massive bump forming on the back of his head. He closed his eyes again, but Eijirou gently prodded his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you sleep. If all the blood is anything to go on, you took a pretty hard hit to the head. You might have a concussion.”
Not that I could sleep if I wanted to.
His mind raced as Eijirou talked to him. He didn’t hear a single word his classmate said. Eijirou suddenly stopped and whipped his head to look down the street. The wide eyes and grin on the boy’s face got Hitoshi to slowly turn his head.
Fat Gum and Tamaki were making their way towards the two, but it was the hero Fat Gum was carrying on his back that made Hitoshi try to stand up. A couple officers followed just behind them. Eijirou put a restraining hand on both his shoulders.
“Dammit, Shinsou, you shouldn’t move so fast! Not with those injuries!”
Despite the use of his real name, Eijirou’s protests fell on deaf ears. Seeing that it was no use arguing with him, he simply resumed his earlier position, supporting Hitoshi so they could meet up with the group. Shouta perked up when he saw the two students.
“Put me down!” he ordered, but the tone wasn’t firm in the slightest.
The man sounded exhausted. Fat Gum bent down so Shouta could easily slide off his back. He leaned against the larger hero, careful not to put too much weight on his injured ankle. Fat Gum whispered something to him Hitoshi couldn’t quite catch before the two students stopped and Shouta completely straightened up. Before Eijirou had a chance to react, Hitoshi yanked himself out of his classmate’s grip and stalked up to the erasure hero, red tunneling his vision. Eijirou reached out to the other student.
“Shinsou, what are you—“
“What the hell?” Hitoshi yelled, his aching throat protesting the volume. Eijirou visibly recoiled at the outburst, never expecting that from usually quiet brainwasher. Fat Gum and Tamaki seemed equally surprised. Shouta narrowed his eyes at the teen, but that didn’t stop Hitoshi from continuing. “Please tell me you didn’t just let them capture you!”
Fat Gum’s eyes widened. He ushered Tamaki and Eijirou toward the officers.
“Once we’re done giving our report, you four will be escorted back to campus! Recovery Girl is expecting your arrival!” he called over his shoulder, but neither Hitoshi nor Shouta seemed to hear him.
Shouta limped forward and reached out toward Hitoshi, but the kid stepped back.
“Shinsou—“
“No! You should’ve ran the second you realized they were after you. Even injured, you could’ve fought them off and escaped!”
“They threatened you!” Shouta said, his voice starting to rise. “It’s my job to make sure you’re safe!”
Hitoshi’s entire body was shaking.
“They could’ve been bluffing. You said you’d never leave me. You let them take you away, and you shouldn’t have. I can handle myself! I’m not just some kid anymore!”
“EXACTLY, YOU’RE MY KID!”
Hitoshi’s mouth dropped open. Shouta had never yelled like that in front of him, but it wasn’t so much the yelling as the actual words that put any other argument he had to rest. Shouta pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a few deep breaths. He stepped forward again, but Hitoshi didn’t back away this time. He gripped the teen’s arms and pulled him closer, only to completely embrace him a couple seconds later. All of the tension in Hitoshi’s body released when his head hit Shouta’s chest. He brought his good arm up to wrap around Shouta’s back. It took a few minutes before he found the courage to speak.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I know I shouldn’t be upset. I…I just thought I’d never see you again.”
“Hitoshi,” he lifted his head to look Shouta in the eye, “you have no reason to apologize. I’m sorry I upset you, but I couldn’t let them hurt you. I saw you struggling to breathe and….”
The hero trailed off. The arms around him tightened. Hitoshi let his head fall back on the man’s chest.
“I know.”
“But I’ll always come back to you. I promised to take care of you, and I will do everything in my power to see that through. You know that, right?”
Hitoshi closed his eyes. He couldn’t stop the smile from gracing his face when he remembered that fateful day in the courtroom. He nearly chuckled to himself.
It’s been quite an eventful year for the both of us to say the very least….
“Right,” he whispered.
…but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Aizawa’s not leaving, so I guess the only thing I can do now is look forward to many more.