Archive of Our Own

Shouta had always known Yamada Hizashi was a freak.

He had known it since the first time they met, actually. The sports festival in their first year of U.A, when Shouta clawed his way through the matches to take the top spot and secure his transfer to the hero course. It was the first time he had come face to face with Hizashi, the loud blonde with the feral grin, like a wolf on the prowl. Hizashi was the only one of Shouta's opponents who stuck in his mind, who lingered after the fight. Everyone else had their eyes widen in fear when Erasure activated, when Shouta took away what made them so special and left them defenseless. It was pathetic, really.

But Hizashi? Hizashi, who was affected on a much deeper level, who, when Voice left him, was left gasping and unable to breathe?

Hizashi's pupils dilated, and his feral grin grew wide and real. Hizashi fought him like a monster, eager to abandon his usual ranged fighting style for a more hands on approach. He fought hard, putting up more of a fight than the brawniest of Shouta's opponents. Even when he staggered and gasped for air, teetering at the edge of consciousness if Shouta managed to keep from blinking for long enough, that smile never left his face. Feral and wild and excited. The one conclusion Shouta managed to draw from that fight was that Hizashi was a freak.

This theory was formed when Hizashi punched him in the face, knuckles coming down over his mouth and splitting his lip. Shouta staggered, hand coming up to his bleeding mouth, stunned for just long enough for Hizashi to force him down on the ground. Shouta looked up at Hizashi, saw the way those green eyes honed in on his bloody mouth with almost obsessive interest, and for a moment thought he saw Hizashi lick his lips.

Shouta managed to switch their positions, overtaking Hizashi and claiming the win. He had walked off the arena knowing his spot in the hero course was all but guaranteed, that he was closer to his goal, but all Shouta felt at the moment was the weight of those green eyes on him.

His theory was confirmed a bit later that very same day, when Hizashi cornered him in one of the hallways. Shouta was prepared for a lot of things when a hero course student he had beaten shoved him up against a corner in an empty hallway after school. He had experience with arrogant hero students and bullies alike, as well as those that were both. He had been prepared for a fight, for threats, for being called a villain and told U.A ought to kick him out. What he hadn't been prepared for was for Hizashi to kiss him.

Soft lips pressed over his own, soon pulling back to reveal the teeth hiding underneath. Sharp teeth digging in his lip, tearing at the small wound there, re-opening it and making it spill blood down over their lips. A hiss of pain that was quickly swallowed up, Hizashi's hands on both sides of his face to keep him in place. Shouta's own hands were hanging limply, so surprised by the action he hadn't managed to decide what to do about it. Shouta's first kiss had been claimed by the same guy that had busted his lip two hours earlier, and it tasted of copper and teeth.

"I hope you end up in my class", Hizashi said, the first words they had spoken to one another, his lips stained red with Shouta's blood. "You're so interesting!"

With that the blonde had left, leaving Shouta reeling behind him.

Shouta did end up in Hizashi's class. The blonde had sunk his claws in without a second of hesitation. He stalked him after classes, dragged him to eat lunch with him, and Shouta couldn't shake the feeling of those heavy green eyes on him, no matter where he went. He forced him into Hizashi's friend group with Nemuri, Oboro and Tensei. He joked around, he dramatically sprawled out over Shouta when Nemuri teased him, he lit up when Shouta joined in on the conversations. It took a week for the two of them to be on first-name basis with each other, though Hizashi had more or less bullied Shouta into using his first name, pouting anytime "Yamada" left Shouta's mouth instead of "Hizashi". Shouta still remembered the way Hizashi beamed the first time he called him "Zashi."

The kisses didn't stop, stolen whenever Hizashi managed to get Shouta in an abandoned corner. Always with Hizashi's hands in his hair or on his face, holding him in place or yanking at his hair until he gave small hisses for Hizashi to drink up. Hizashi didn't make him bleed again, but he was happy to leave bitemarks over Shouta's neck and collarbones. Once he shoved Shouta face first into the wall, holding him in place with one harsh hand on the back of his head as he pressed gentle and reverent kisses to the back of Shouta's neck.

It never progressed, not until Nemuri decided to be an idiot. It was a sleepover she had insisted on, where they got drunk and played games. Boardgames, cards, Never Have I Ever, Truth or Dare. Nemuri had an app on her phone that gave random questions for Truth or Dare that they started using because both Shouta and Tensei were really bad at coming up with questions when put on the spot. The question about "how did you lose your virginity?" had been for Tensei, but had ended up in a mutual sharing of experiences for the group. Everyone were a bit surprised that out of all of them, only Oboro had lost his virginity at the time.

When Shouta had, reluctantly, admitted to being a virgin, he had once again felt Hizashi's heavy stare on him. He knew in the same moment that the words left his mouth that he had put a target on his back.

He still accepted Hizashi's invitation to study after school the next day.

Shouta had lost his virginity in Hizashi's room, study material forgotten on the ground. There had been bruises on his wrists for two days afterwards.

But the only way Shouta had survived being a kid with a villainous quirk in a society built for those with heroic quirks was by giving as good as he got. So he invited Hizashi for a study session as well. Hizashi's throat was sore for the whole next day, and Shouta suffered a migraine from overusing his quirk. After that Hizashi was even more clingy, slinging an arm over Shouta's shoulders or waist at any given opportunity and giving him lopsided, dreamy smiles.

Yes, Hizashi was a freak. He liked it when Shouta was bleeding, liked it even more when he was the reason for the blood. Liked having Shouta underneath him, trapped and at his mercy. But he also liked it when Shouta made him bleed, when he was the one at Shouta's mercy. A quirk infused glare could scare most people, but it only had Hizashi shivering in pleasure. He licked up the tears that spilled down Shouta's cheeks when he was fraying at the edges from overstimulation. He smiled when he was tied up and helpless, eyes wide with lust as he glanced up at Shouta. He smiled when he had Shouta by the throat.

He was a freak. Shouta found he rather liked it.

---

Shouta lost two people when Oboro died. Oboro, his gentle friend with the big grin, and Hizashi.

At first Hizashi had been clingier, refusing to let Shouta out of his sight. Holding hands at all times, fingers intertwined, or an arm slung over his shoulders or waist. He was so close it was like he was trying to crawl into him, underneath his skin. Shouta settled into the clinginess without complaint, relishing in the grounding way Hizashi was so close, how he too could feel better with Hizashi in his sights. It was painful, and difficult, but slowly they began to pick up the pieces of their lives, putting them together again.

Until one day, Hizashi didn't show up to school. He disappeared completely, never responding to texts or calls, not even Shouta's increasingly sorrow-filled begging to please, Zashi, answer the phone. It wasn't until the police came to question Shouta regarding the death of the pro hero Oboro had been interning with, that Shouta realised Hizashi wasn't coming back. With the puzzle pieces together, he wasn't shocked to learn Oboro's death hadn't been an accident but an act of purposeful neglect. A hero deliberately disregarding the safety of his charges, and how the commission had covered it up as an accident to preserve the reputation of a monster. He was even less surprised to learn that the hero had been found with his eardrums burst, blood running down his eyes and ears.

It didn't make Hizashi abandoning him hurt any less. But Hizashi wasn't gone the way Oboro was. Shouta knew he'd be back, eventually.

It took years for him to resurface. Shouta graduated, began working, and started slowly making a name for himself in the underground. He was a hard worker, drowning himself in the work to distract from the pain of losing two people he cared about so deeply. His boss gave him harder cases, more important missions, had him assisting with and then leading raids. It was better than spending his time at a silent apartment lacking the vibrant friends he had lost. So Shouta lived his life on the streets of his patrol area, and knew it like the back of his hand.

When a villain surfaced, he knew it. Could feel the underground shift around him, making space for the villain that clawed into it. Shouta had seen quite a few villains making their way onto the scene during the five years he'd been there, but this one was different.

This one appeared behind him on a rooftop and called out a whistle in greeting. This one showed up in black leather and gelled up hair. This one had a familiar, feral grin on his face as he looked at Shouta.

"Miss me?" Hizashi asked, his voice gentle and kind.

"Yes", Shouta replied, softly, and punched Hizashi in the face.

Their battle was longer than usual, neither of them willing to give the other the upper hand. They had fought a lot as students, but where those fights held a note of flirtation, both of them knowing the consequences of letting the other win, this one was desperate and brutal. Shouta yelled at Hizashi for leaving him to deal with the grief on his own, Hizashi screamed at him for remaining with the heroes after what they did to Oboro. Their attacks were just short of killing blows, anger and hurt fueling them as they fought.

They had both grown during their years apart, their current fight an evolved and sharper version of the ones from their school days. They had better reflexes, better speed and strength, better moves. It was exactly like that battle during the sports festival and at the same time it was worlds apart from that first fight. It still held the same desperation and the feral edge, but it was far, far deadlier. Where they had previously been only raw prowess they were now polished weapons.

Hizashi had far better quirk control than before, and it hit Shouta during the fight that Hizashi had either been holding back during the school years or not even U.A was exempt from quirk discrimination, pushing the students to look heroic rather than find their true potential. Instead of focusing on flashy attacks like he had been doing back at school, Hizashi now hummed and whistled, the sound going up and down at dangerous levels, the vibrations shaking Shouta's core and the rooftop they were standing on. But Shouta was better now as well, his quirk turning on and off at faster intervals, taking Hizashi's breath away for longer, a scalpel in his hands rather than the clumsy knife it had been before.

"Can't believe you still became a hero after what they did to Oboro", Hizashi growled as he kicked Shouta in the stomach.

"Oboro wouldn't have wanted you to become a villain", Shouta spat out together with the blood on his tongue. He threw a punch that was dodged, but the next landed hard, Shouta's knuckles splitting against Hizashi's cheekbone.

"I was never as good as he was."

A blocked hit, a kick that missed. A whistle too close to his ear, leaving them ringing. A red glare making Hizashi gasp and claw at his throat.

"That doesn't give you the right to give up on his ideals!"

Capture scarf wrapped around Hizashi's arm, throwing him hard into the ground. Knife slashing Shouta's chest, ripping his jumpsuit and tearing his skin.

"I refuse to be a puppet for the fuckers who killed him!"

That shout was quirk-infused, rising just loud enough to rattle Shouta's bones. His eyes flared red again, but he was a second too late. It was sheer luck and a split second's bad timing, but suddenly Shouta was on the ground, pinned down by Hizashi. Hands on his wrists, digging in and promising bruises. Hizashi's sweat dripped down on his face. Their heavy breaths mixed together. They stared at each other, rage, grief and pain in their eyes.

But as he looked up at the man above him, Shouta didn't see a villain. He saw his friend, his best friend, the one who'd dragged him into friendships and forced him to care for people. The loud boy who had taken one look at Shouta and decided the gloomy villain kid was his.

Standing up to his bullies. Decking an upperclassman for speaking bad about him. Throwing himself over his lap and demanding cuddles. Cooking lunch for him to make sure he ate something. Training with him to help him learn the capture scarf.

Shouta's eyes softened.

"I really missed you, Zashi", he said, trying to force all the sincerity he was so bad at showing into his voice. Hizashi's lip trembled, and a second later they crashed into Shouta's.

"Missed you too, Sho", Hizashi mumbled between kisses, and Shouta let his eyes flutter shut, hands relaxing under the hard grip on them. Hizashi's hands traveled up from his wrists, fingers slowly intertwining with Shouta's and pressing their palms together. Shouta used the lapse in concentration from the villain to flip them both over, pushing Hizashi down on his back on the roof with Shouta over him. Their fingers were still intertwined, and Shouta pressed the back of Hizashi's hands down on the roof, keeping him in place as their lips crashed together once more. 

They kissed like they'd both been drowning, like the other was a breath of much needed air. As Hizashi tore at Shouta's jumpsuit and he tugged at black leather, Shouta found the sense of normalcy that had been lost to him since Oboro's death. Here with Hizashi, the blonde tearing at his clothes, it almost felt like they were back to being teenagers. Like this was just another stolen moment in abandoned corners of the world, where the only thing that existed was Hizashi's teeth in his skin and the bruises he would have tomorrow.

Shouta's self-imposed celibacy ended on a rooftop in the red lights district, by a villain using the face of his best friend.

After that they fell into some semblance of a pattern.

Hizashi made a name for himself as a villain, amassing a following from the outcasts of society, those eager to follow someone who offered warm smiles and promises of tearing down the hero commission. Hizashi was as chaotic as ever, his whistles bringing down buildings and bursting eardrums. He could shake someone's brain to pieces from the inside with nothing more than a yell. He happily tore down agents from the hero commission, grin wide and green eyes feral. The commission was terrified of the villain known as Sonic Scream.

Shouta made a bigger name for himself cleaning up the underground, busting drug cartels and trafficking rings, saving innocents and squashing crime. His red eyes were enough to strike terror in every villain and criminal. He was ruthless and efficient. Soon he had rookies looking at him with stars in their eyes as they were introduced to him, and villains would have their eyes going wide as they gasped out "Eraserhead!"

They hunted each other mercilessly. Eraserhead went after Sonic Scream, trying to save the people he was attempting to murder. Sonic Scream attacked him when his missions landed him too close to the villain. Their showdowns went on to become widespread stories through the underground, how Eraserhead had thrown Sonic Scream through a window or how Sonic Scream had kicked Eraserhead off a building. Neither of them left the fight without paying for it with blood and bruises.

Two people, villain and hero, that both worked in the name of a boy taken from them way too soon. Both attempting to honor a friend.

Both finding a home in each other outside of their work personas.

Hizashi would show up in Shouta's apartment, uninvited and unannounced. Forcing him down on the floor in his own home, nails raking down his back as Hizashi tasted him. Shouta would show up in Hizashi's base, stretched out on his couch. Bending him over the arm of the couch, a hand tangled hard in blonde hair and taking him.

Hizashi kidnapped him, once. When an unknown gas had knocked him out, despite his attempts at covering his mouth, he'd been truly terrified. He hadn't known who his assailant was, had barely managed to stay awake long enough to hear the footsteps of someone approaching him. Waking up in a basement, wrists chained to the wall, Shouta had briefly wondered if this was where he died. It hadn't been until Hizashi walked in, (Hizashi, not Scream, civilian clothes and hair resting against his shoulders), that Shouta was able to relax.

When he escaped a week later he returned to a missing person report filed for him and frenzied friends. Nemuri and Tensei hugged him tightly, crying, making him promise not to leave them. He spent a day or so in the hospital with an IV in his arm. The hospital staff gave each other looks full of concern and pity when they looked over the bruises he had sustained. Shouta never told anyone who it'd been that had kidnapped him, or what had happened in the week he'd been gone. He never informed them of the bruises he had given during his captivity either.

He always gave as good as he got, after all.

That incident was what pushed Nedzu to put his foot down. He threatened to have Shouta's license revoked, forcing his career as a hero to end, if he didn't start to take care of himself.

"You can't continue to chase ghosts like this, Shouta-kun", Nedzu told him, voice hard but with an edge of concern and worry underneath.

"Oboro or Hizashi?" Shouta asked, in a moment of altered mind, that he blamed on the medicine. He wasn't sure if it was a moment of lucidity or incoherence. Nedzu stared at him for a long moment before he answered, voice soft and gentle.

"Both, pup. Both."

With a pat on the hand, the threat of having his license removed and an offer to come teach at U.A, Nedzu left. Shouta stewed in his hospital bed for a while, trying to sort it all out.

He accepted Nedzu's offer, and after obtaining his teaching license he was a teacher at U.A. His hero license was left active and untouched, without Nedzu infringing on it, but the teaching position naturally cut down his hours of hero work. No longer was he able to bury himself in work, no longer could he go on week-long surveillances or undercover work. No longer did he chase after Sonic Scream.

It was weird to be back at U.A, but Shouta found a sense of calm in it. It was a bit like coming home, like visiting a grave, and like returning to a crime scene. A potent sense of guilt and grief and relief in the halls as he passed by students. He watched the ghosts of Oboro and Hizashi move through the halls, heard the ghostly echoes of loud laughter in the air as he taught their replacements. Eager and naive children, looking at him with stars in their eyes as they talked about their future as heroes.

Shouta quickly gained a reputation for being ruthless. Demon-sensei, they called him. The floor of his classroom had puddles of tears staining it, puddles that grew the longer he worked. But it was better that he crushed their dreams instead of the real world crushing them. He wouldn't allow any more Oboros, no more Hizashis. No more ghosts clinging to him. Those that graduated did so because they would become better heroes, better teachers, symbols and people, than those that were out there at the moment. It was his duty as a teacher to protect, and he took it seriously.

He wondered what would have happened if someone like him had been teaching when Oboro and Hizashi had been students. He wondered if Oboro would have been alive. Wondered if Hizashi would have been a hero. Wondered if he himself'd be a better person.

Teaching cut down his hours of hero work, and his free time was hoarded by Nemuri and Tensei, the two hesitant to let him out of their sights. He didn't have time to hunt Hizashi down, which was Nedzu's whole design. But he was still a hero, still spent patrols stalking the rooftops, and Sonic Scream was just as good a hunter as he was.

"Where you've been?"

The unmistakable voice came from behind him, and Shouta dodged to the side in the narrow alleyway, only barely dodging the knife Sonic Scream threw at him. Shouta was forced to dodge three more attacks before he could even begin to form a reply, the attack brutal in a way it hadn't been since that day they reunited on the roof.

"Miss me?" Shouta threw back and watched those sharp green eyes turn dark and dangerous.

"Answer the question, hero. Where the fuck have you been?!" Scream snarled, grin nowhere to be seen.

"U.A." The reply slipped out, easy and soft. Scream froze, his expression stuck somewhere between rage and dawning horror. But no attacks came. Shouta remained in a defense stance, the words tasting weird in his mouth as they spilled out. "I'm a teacher, now."

"What?"

Scream's expression was blank now, the rage melting away, and the tension seeped out of him. All that was left was confusion and something deeper, something vulnerable and dangerous.

"Nedzu's idea. You know how he is, Hizashi", Shouta said, slowly relaxing in his stance, hoping to get his friend out from the outer layer of Sonic Scream. The blond stared at him for a moment, blinking slowly. His expression became closed off, his thoughts buried behind an unfeeling mask that was neither Sonic Scream or Hizashi.

Without another word the villain turned, leaving Shouta alone in the alley, lips quietly aching with the lack of kisses. But even so Shouta let the man leave, let him gather his thoughts alone, let him come to terms with the change in their routine. It took a long while for Hizashi to come around, but Shouta gave him space. When they met next time it was as civilians. They didn't fight, didn't fuck, didn't do anything. They just sat together in Shouta's apartment, leaned against one another, in silence. Hizashi only spoke a few words;

"If you end up like Oboro I'll kill you."

Shouta only hummed an acknowledgement and they went back to being silent. Just sitting on the floor, leaned against the couch, tucked into one another as they both fought their own mental battles. Their fingers intertwined, feeling each other's heartbeat through their wrists, a soft and constant thump to remind them the other was still alive.

Their meetings were few and far in between, but they still ran into each other. Sometimes by design, sometimes not. Sometimes they fought, sometimes they fucked. But it was the moments in between that meant the most to Shouta, the moments when they just held each other. Holding Hizashi close to his chest, their legs tangled together and a hand carefully running through blonde hair. The soft intimacy of feeling Hizashi's breath against his neck, of being close to one another. The moments when they whispered secrets to each other, when Hizashi ran gentle fingers over Shouta's biceps, tracing scars and bruises. When lips met in a quiet moment of care, without the need to overpower and dominate.

It was those moments that Shouta allowed himself to close his eyes and dream, dream of all the what-ifs and could-have-beens. He imagined a world where Hizashi had remained by his side as a fellow hero, where they taught at U.A together, where they got married. He imagined a world where instead of disappearing Hizashi had come for him after Oboro had died, where Shouta followed Hizashi into villainy and they tore down the world together. He tried not to think too much about the worlds where Oboro survived, because those were rabbit holes he could lose his mind in if he wasn't careful.

Things continued like that for a while, the seasons changing and the years slipping by. Shouta's time was split between old friends and colleagues, his work and Hizashi. Nemuri and Tensei were there to remind him he was alive, Nedzu kept an eye on his health, and his students kept his mind occupied. His hero work kept him alive, his blood pumping as he threw himself into missions and patrols. Hizashi made him feel alive, pulse quick, heavy and there, whenever Hizashi's lips were on him, even when he knew he was clinging to the past.

It wasn't healthy, but it kept him alive, and that was all that mattered.

Until USJ.

It shouldn't have happened. It shouldn't have been possible. USJ was so well guarded, it was Thirteen's passion project and the apple of their eye, and they had gone above and beyond with the security. It should have been impossible for villains to get in, especially a no-name group like the League of Villains. A group of low-level thugs, led by a manchild whose only power was in his quirk. It should have been easy for Shouta, especially when the kids were in Thirteen's hands so he could focus on beating up idiotic villains.

But then the nomu had gotten its hands on him, and had broken him like a twig. His students had been in danger, Shigaraki trying to decay their heads, and Shouta had pushed and pushed to stay conscious and his glare directed on Shigaraki to keep his students safe. He would never allow his students to die under his care. They were supposed to be safe with him.

He had blacked out when his head was slammed into the ground again. He never even saw All Might arrive, never saw his colleagues come to help him. He had stared at his students, desperate to keep Shigaraki's quirk gone, when he finally slipped away.

He woke up in a hospital bed, two days later, when the surgery was already complete. It had taken Nemuri and Nedzu's combined efforts and promises that his students were okay to keep him from escaping the hospital bed. It was only when Nedzu finally gave him the full list of the injuries his students had suffered thanks to his failings, with additional promises that they were all alive and no injury had been left unsaid, that Shouta agreed to stay put. He had failed them all, none of them should have gotten in harm's way, but at least the injuries weren't grievous. Scrapes, burns, sprains and quirk exhaustion. No maimed bodies, no surgeries, no impairments. No deaths. They were all alive. Shouta hadn't lost anyone.

Nedzu was more lenient about this hospital visit than he'd been after the kidnapping. Perhaps it was guilt that something like this had happened on U.A grounds, or he understood that Shouta had tried to keep both his students and himself safe, but the principal didn't reprimand him for ending up in the hospital again. He indulged in Shouta's whims, updated him on the health of his students, and kept Nemuri and Tensei from killing him for nearly dying on them. So Shouta indulged him in kind, promising to stay in the hospital bed until he had the doctors' permission to return to work. A promise he kept, remaining in his bed even though everything in him was screaming at him to return to his class and check on them.

But here he was, stuck, staring up at the roof of the hospital room, tracing the lines for the millionth time. He was bored out of his mind, but, as Nemuri kept reminding him, at least he was alive to be bored. The shadows of the night stretched out over the room, a dim light by the door the only thing lighting up his room. The head of his hospital bed was raised so he could sit up, gaze on the roof. He should be asleep, but his need to be contrarian had to be fulfilled somehow, and his mind was buzzing, filled with too many thoughts, too many to allow sleep to find him.

He was well aware of the quiet hiss of the door being opened, and he knew who his visitor was by the subtle clack of the short heels. He kept staring up at the ceiling as his visitor walked up to the bed. A creak of a chair being repositioned, a soft shush of fabric shifting and the bed dipped as two arms were folded on top of it. He could feel the stare burning into the side of his head.

Shouta closed his eyes, knowing that this might be when he died, but couldn't find it in himself to fight it. He fought it when his students were on the line, but it was harder to justify now, when it was just him. When death wore the face of a friend.

A warm hand on top of his, fingers intertwined, tense around him. Clutching at him to stop from shaking. But despite his efforts to hide it, the shaking didn't subside.

The silence dragged on, only broken by the soft hum of the AC. The white, thin curtains shifted when the air from the AC hooked into them. A petal from the bouquet of flowers on the nightstand drifted down, the red thing coming to a rest among the white sheets. They stayed like that for so long that Shouta slowly started doubting how real it was. Perhaps it was just a hazy dream.

It didn't become completely real until Hizashi's voice broke the silence.

"I told you what would happen if you ended up like Oboro."

"You did", Shouta agreed, because he couldn't see the point in denying the truth. He still didn't struggle. Hizashi drew in a shuddering breath, his hand clutching Shouta's a little tighter.

"What happened, Sho?" he whispered.

Shouta never was able to lie to Hizashi. To Sonic Scream, a villain who would take advantage of any information, he would have kept his mouth shut. But Hizashi, with his haggard face and dark circles under his eyes, with his ruffled hair and trembling lip, with the sadness and rage and deep-seated fear swirling in his gorgeous green eyes? No, Shouta could never lie to Hizashi.

So he told him. Told him about the villains invading a secure U.A location, told him about jumping in to defend his students, told him about the monster that broke his body. But more than that, he told him about waking up terrified he had lost one of them, that he had failed them by not being able to stay awake and keep Shigaraki's quirk in check, that every scrape they had made him feel so useless. Like he was back to being a teenager, back to being the useless kid play-acting at being a hero, who couldn't get a grip until the world had already taken Oboro from him. How he hated himself for failing his students.

Hizashi quietly listened through all of it, his hand tight around Shouta's, holding him a little tighter whenever Shouta's voice, rough from unuse, cracked on the words. When it was all done, when Shouta once more sat, staring up at the hospital ceiling and refusing to acknowledge the tears that wanted to drop from his eyes, Hizashi squeezed his hand.

"Oh, Sho", he said, gentle and soft.

They didn't talk about it any more than that. Hizashi never voiced his own thoughts and feelings on it, he only clung to Shouta's hand. He didn't try to cheer him up like Nemuri did, or cry with him like Tensei, or use logic like Nedzu. He just sat there, keeping Shouta company. He almost wanted to laugh at the irony, the thought that his loud mouth of a best friend was lost for words for once. Instead he clung to Hizashi's hand, the connection the only communication the two were capable of at the moment.

It was only hours later, when the nurses were about to do the rounds and start checking in on Shouta again, that Hizashi moved from the bed. He slowly stood up from the chair and, with one hand still holding Shouta's, leaned in over the bed and placed a kiss against his temple. His free hand ran over Shouta's hair, the kisses going down over his face until they finally found his mouth. They kissed, long and longing, a silent promise that they were both safe and sound.

It was only when the blond really had to go that their fingers untangled and their hands pulled apart. Hizashi pressed one final kiss to Shouta's temple and, with one final soft look, left the room. Shouta stayed in bed, listening to the subtle clack of heels going down the corridor, staring up at the hospital ceiling. After a long moment he closed his eyes and finally drifted off to sleep.

The weeks after that were hectic, almost hectic enough for Shouta to put his conversation with Hizashi out of his mind. The days while he was healing were spent with Nemuri and Tensei at his side, a constant reminder that he was still there, was still alive, and hadn't left them like Oboro had. Some of his students sneaked into his hospital room as well to check on him. He let them stay a second or two, just long enough to see that he was, indeed, alive and well, then he leveled a red glare on them that made them squeak and scram. Nedzu visited him too a couple of times, mostly to double-check he kept his promise and stayed in bed, resting like a good little patient.

When he was finally cleared, he returned to work immediately. It was a relief to be back in school, to stand in the classroom with his class of hell spawn staring at him with relief in their misty eyes, to see for himself that they all truly were okay. After that focus shifted completely to the sports festival, where his students were giggling to themselves and talking about how much they looked forward to it. Shouta allowed them to have a bit of fun, for once. They needed it after the mess that was USJ.

The sports festival was always a loud, over-produced mess, and Shouta both hated it and loved it. He knew from experience the importance the sports festival could hold, the changes it could have for a child's future, and he could enjoy the memories. But it was hard to look at the stage, watch the students battle it out, and not be reminded of his first meeting with Hizashi. The desperate, almost feral battle, with Hizashi's eyes burning bright and Shouta's mouth dripping with blood.

(A desperation he could almost see in Midoriya's match with Todoroki, a desperation that wasn't only fueled by the need to win a competition. Shouta could see something else bubbling underneath it, something volatile and destructive. The way they tore each other and themselves apart, the disregard for property damage, how they were unable to tear their eyes from each other. How inseparable they were afterwards, holding hands and smiling at one another.

He could only hope Midoriya and Todoroki would have a better ending than he and Hizashi did.)

It was a lot, a hectic and busy time. But Shouta had never been able to shake Hizashi's presence, and he wasn't able to do so now. He still remembered what Hizashi had told him, both in the hospital and when Shouta had first become a teacher.

If you end up like Oboro I'll kill you.

Shouta might still be alive, but he knew he would pay for getting hurt, for lying wrapped up in bandages like a mummy, for reminding Hizashi of Oboro like this. He knew Hizashi was just biding his time and setting things up. He knew it by the buzzing in his skin, the quiet anticipation of knowing it would happen, but being left to wait without knowing when it would come. Just like the sleepover, when Nemuri and Tensei were asleep, when he felt the way Hizashi's gaze burned into his back as the blond plotted when and where to claim him. Fingers ghosting over his side as he continued to take deep, even breaths, lying still and feigning sleep. Hizashi's hand trembling in the air with barely held back want, before retreating slowly. The day after, spent in a nervous limbo of waiting, until finally the invitation came, and Shouta knew.

Now he was stuck waiting again, trying to anticipate Hizashi's next move. He tried to bury himself in work again, just like when Oboro died, when Hizashi disappeared for years. But it was harder when he was a teacher, when he was responsible for children. As a hero he only needed to worry about himself, and his own safety was so easy to exchange for a successful mission and rescued civilians. But as a teacher he had so many dependent on him, so many people he was responsible for, so many to protect. He needed to be there for them, and he could only hope whatever Hizashi was planning wouldn't affect his students.

During the attack in Hosu Shouta was paranoid, ears straining to pick up the telltale hum or the clack of boot heels on the ground. Through scolding his students, through screaming at the police chief, through the heart attack of learning how close one of his students had been to being snatched away by the nomu... The entire time Shouta prayed Hizashi wouldn't show up, that this wasn't him trying to orchestrate something. That Hizashi's morals hadn't decayed to the point that he was prepared to hurt students, children, just to get at Shouta. Worst came to worst, Shouta hoped the U.A uniform would save his students.

But Hizashi didn't show up. Not even once did Shouta hear his humming tunes or see any flashes of blonde hair sweeping past. It was a relief, a moment where Shouta could focus on his stupid (stupid, stupid, brave, heroic, stupid) students rather than whatever Scream had planned. But it was also another false alarm, something that left him high strung as he waited for the other shoe to drop, when it would all be snatched away from him. It left him worried and on high alert, enough that Nedzu sent him worried glances again, those kind of glances that told him he needed to make an adjustment before Nedzu threatened his hero license again. But how was he supposed to adjust to this? All he could do was wait for a strike he couldn't predict.

He remained on high alert through the mid-term finals, and preparing them all for the summer camp, all of it made worse by Shigaraki showing up again and threatening one his students again. It made failure scrape at the back of Shouta's mind, the memory of Oboro lingering over his skin, at the idea that a dangerous criminal had been in contact with his students twice and was still not apprehended. He needed Shigaraki in a prison cell yesterday, needed him far away from his students.

By the time summer camp rolled around, Shouta had managed to refocus his paranoia onto his kids. He checked and double checked everything several times, changed the place for the summer camp last minute, and made sure no one was in the know where they were going. Shigaraki had already broken into the school once, Shouta didn't trust any information in the school to stay secure, no matter how much Nedzu had improved the security. By the time the summer camp was in full swing, the kids training hard enough to pass out directly after dinner every night, he found himself relaxing slightly. He was still vigilant, still looking over his shoulder and keeping an eye and ear out at all times, but he was calmer.

They only had one night left, and the students were happy to go off for a test of courage where they tried to scare each other, turning it into a friendly competition between their classes. Shouta watched them go with something warm curling in his chest, even when he dragged the five that had failed their tests away for extra tutoring. The kids deserved some fun.

It didn't last, because of course it fucking didn't. Because as soon as Shouta dared to hope that one event in the school would go without too much trouble, villains were attacking them. The same league of villains from USJ, but this time more organized, more prepared, more deadly. From Dabi who greeted Shouta with bright blue flames right to the face, to Compress attempting to spirit away Shouta's students, to whatever monster had Midoriya shattering his arms to protect Kouta from. They were spread out, causing chaos and destruction, keeping the students spread out so that Shouta couldn't get to them and keep them safe. It was hell, and Shouta sprinted through the forest trying to group up his students and keep them at the base of camp, trying to protect them.

It was only when he had them all grouped together at the base of camp, when Kouta was sobbing in Midoriya's lap and Jirou was bandaging up Yaoyorozu's bleeding head, that Shouta found himself relaxing slightly. He had them all together, easier to protect them, and the villains were forced to gather themselves and come to them. None of them hiding in the shadows anymore, all of them in one spot where Shouta could capture them and beat the shit out of them for attempting to harm his students. Again.

It was then, right as Shouta stood with his capture weapon poised to strike and just about to jump right at the enemy, that he heard it. A sound that froze him to the spot, the hands holding his scarf stuttering, eyes darting around to find the source. His reaction had both the villains and his students surprised. He saw the league glancing around, trying to pinpoint the noise they were hearing too, while the students looked at him in confusion and worry.

"Sensei?" one of the students whispered behind him, and Shouta shushed them, still straining to hear that familiar sound that was still too low to know where it was coming from, exactly.

The low whistle rose in pitch and volume, playing out a melody that Shouta recognized, bringing to mind old school days and sharing earphones with Hizashi to hear whatever new song the blonde had found. The melody seemed to ring out over the clearing, and after a moment was accompanied by slow, thudding claps, muffled by leather gloves that Shouta knew well. He glanced to the side of the clearing, in between the side he was on with his students and the side the league occupied. A figure clad in black leather, hair gelled up and sunglasses perched on his nose stood there, clapping out the beat of the melody he was whistling.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please", he sang. "Would you bring your attention to me?"

His voice was soft, but the tense silence in the clearing made his voice carry like a deadly blade. He spread his arms out, a wolfish grin on his face as all eyes in the clearing went to him.

"For a feast for your eyes to see, an explosion of catastrophe!" he continued, louder now, still singing, before letting his arms drop. When he spoke next it was not in song, but still carried that haunting vibration in his voice, the underlying power of what that voice could do. "What a great audience we have here! You sure are teaching your students well, Eraser."

"Sonic Scream", Shouta ground out, fingers clutching his scarf hard. He heard his students behind him, the smart ones, gasp and shuffle backwards, away from Scream. Even the league stiffened up, as Shouta slowly positioned himself so he could have both the league and Scream in his vision at the same time.

"Been a while since we shared frequency, love song!", Scream smiled at him, as if they were just meeting up for coffee and not in a clearing in a forest where Shouta had students to protect. Shouta glared at him.

"This is the type of people you associate with now?" he growled, scarf lashing viciously around him. "I thought you were above that, at the very least."

Scream blinked for a moment, head tilting slightly as he took in the words. Then he slowly pulled down his sunglasses down his nose, toxic green eyes locking onto Shouta as a cruel smile tugged at his lips.

"You think I'd share the airwaves with these DJs? Seriously?" He clicked his tongue. "Thought you knew me better than that, 'Raser."

The league stiffened at the confirmation that Scream wasn't there to be their ally, clutching their own weapons tightly.

"Why are you here, then?" Shouta asked, even if he could sense the answer.

Nerves brewed in his stomach, the anxious adrenaline that had been building for the last months and now was ready to burst as the situation he had been dreading crashed down over him. Scream was here, in full villain getup, when Shouta had his students to take care of. He chanced a glance at them, saw the way they were nervously glancing between the villain and Shouta, worry clear on their faces, as they hoped their teacher would be able to protect them from the threat. They were curled protectively around their wounded, ready to jump in and still hoping they wouldn't have to, because they were just children and were facing an enemy that had even their teacher hesitating. Shouta knew he would do anything to protect them, but he had hoped and wished that Scream wouldn't sink so low as to touch them.

But Scream just smiled at them, and he slowly walked closer. His grin grew wider, clearly relishing in it, when both the league and Shouta's students flinched, backing away from him.

"Isn't it obvious?" Scream said. "I'm here for you. After all", his eyes slid off Shouta and onto the league, something hard and manic settling over his face. "I thought I made it very clear that the only one allowed to touch Eraserhead is me."

Shouta's eyes widened, both at the possessiveness in those words and when he saw Scream inhale.

"Get down! Cover your ears!" he screamed at his students. His own hands made it to cover his ears just as the quirked scream rang over the clearing.

The villain had danced over so he was facing the league, directing the sound so it didn't go directly against Shouta or his students, keeping them out of the worst of it. The league stumbled, hands flying up to their ears as they screamed in pain, and the students curled in on themselves to protect themselves. Todoroki threw himself over Midoriya, covering his ears as the boy couldn't do it himself with his broken arms. The kid was trembling, holding onto Kouta as much as he could. Jiro was curled up in a ball, hands clutching her head, trying to shut out the sound, and Shouta covered her ears with his own hands as well to help muffle the sound. 

After a few seconds of screaming the voice faded away, and Shouta took the time to direct Yaoyorozu to make some protective earphones. Once an extra thick pair was given to Jiro, and the other students were grabbing their own pairs, Shouta sprang to his feet again.

Sonic Scream was already fighting the members of the league, throwing short screams and sharp whistles out to disorient them and bringing them to their knees from sheer pain. Toga was curled up on the ground, crying as she covered her bleeding ears, and the scream to his face disoriented Twice long enough he didn't manage to block the kick to the ribs. He doubled over, and was knocked out by the punch to the side of the head. Dabi and Compress hung back, trying to work out a way to fight, as Spinner and Magne advanced.

Magne tried using her quirk, but Shouta shut it down, leaving her open to Scream's attack. She was a tough opponent, strong and powerful, but Scream had far more experience. While he took care of Magne, Shouta directed his capture weapon to restrain Spinner. The reptilian only managed a hiss in surprise when the gray fabric wrapped itself around him before Shouta lifted him off the ground with the force of his capture weapon and, with a loud snap of the fabric, threw Spinner right into Magne. The two collided hard, and Magne hit a tree at the edge of the clearing. She went down and didn't get up again, Spinner struggling to get to his feet from the disorienting throw.

It was strangely nostalgic to fight with Scream rather than against him. They hadn't done that since back in their student days, and even then they had usually ended up sparring against each other rather than with each other. To have a villain at his back, fighting with him, protecting his students... It was weird. But if it would keep his students safe, then Shouta would take it.

Before Shouta could attack Spinner to make sure he stayed down, Scream threw out an arm to stop his advance. Shouta listened to his instincts and dove behind the villain, keeping himself out of the line of fire for the next voice-attack.

"Your ears and your eyes will be bleeding!"  Sonic Scream sang, raising his voice into a yell at the last word, letting the attack ring out over the clearing. The league screamed in pain as they clutched their ears and dropped to the ground, and the class huddled closer together in terror at the sheer power in that voice.

Scream only grinned as he surveyed the members of the league, all curled up on the ground, crying or knocked out. His voice dropped down to normal levels as he sang the next line, looking more as an announcer addressing his audience than a villain that had brought several villains to their knees in a single attack.

"Please check to see if you're still breathing", he sang, the casualness of it all so jarring against the results of his attack.

All of them were down for the count, the unconscious bodies strewn around the grass, their ears dripping blood and hands by their heads. Brutal, efficient and terrifying, exactly what Shouta had come to expect from Scream. Upon confirming that all of the league were down, he turned towards Scream.

It was only reflexes and long experience fighting Scream that let him evade the punch aimed at his face, quickly moving backwards to evade the follow-up punch he knew was coming. He aimed a kick in retaliation. He knew it wouldn't connect, but it worked as a distraction from the way his scarf moved. The metal fabric shot forward, aimed for where he knew an arm would be raised to guard. Shouta almost managed to snag Scream in his capture scarf, but the villain danced out of the way with nothing more than a grin.

The two of them stared each other down, the distance just outside the reach of Shouta's capture scarf, because of course Scream knew the scarf's reach in ways few people ever would. The two of them stood half-relaxed in defensive stances, catching their breaths, waiting for the other to strike first. It felt like their old, regular fights. Back before his teaching job at U.A, back when they hunted each other down and every encounter ended in bruises and sore limbs. The fights that could just as easily end in bloodshed as tearing each others' clothes off. It could have been nostalgic, if it wasn't in front of Shouta's students. Kids that had already been traumatized enough, that had suffered and struggled. They didn't deserve seeing this.

"How did you know we'd be here? How did you know they'd be here?" Shouta asked, his scarf writhing around him, the ends snapping in the air. But Scream only grinned.

"Magicians and entertainers never reveal, love."

"Why are you even here?!"

"Honestly, how many times do I have to say it?" Scream rolled his eyes playfully, twirling his knife in his hands. "You are mine, I don't let others put their hands on you. Simple as that!"

With that declaration a knife, a different one than Scream had been twirling in his hands because he could never be simple, whistled past him. It was caught in his capture scarf, the fabric wrapping tight around it. The next one he dodged, but the third one - the same one he had been playing with earlier - managed to snag him in the arm. It was nothing more than a grace, a small knick by a blade that whistled past a little too close. It tore his jumpsuit and drew a small trickle of blood, something that didn't go unnoticed by the villain, if the way Scream's pupils dilated was any indication.

Shouta wasn't a stranger to bleeding for Sonic Scream - nor Hizashi - but now the burn in his arm only made him growl. He had students to care for, he needed to make sure the rest of the league's agents were taken care of and that his colleagues were okay. He didn't have time for playing games with a villain dripping with bloodlust.

He flung the knife in his capture scarf back, rushing forward as Scream was busy dodging the knife. His capture weapon writhed around him, reaching out for the villain. He needed to finish this quickly, he could deal with Scream later.

But Scream had never been simple, had never gone quietly, and lacked all the subtlety Hizashi did. Not even now, when he helped take out the league that was targeting the students, could he stop himself from making things difficult for Shouta. While Shouta was trying to end the fight as quickly and cleanly as possible, capture scarf whipping to wrap itself around the villain and his punches aiming for weak points that would end the fight if they connected, Scream still just grinned at him. He kept slashing with his knife, but the cuts were never deep, never did more than scratch at his suit the few times they did connect. He danced around, focused more on evading than fighting back, the hum in his voice never growing loud enough to truly hurt. Shouta knew Scream's fighting style well enough to tell that the villain was just toying with him.

"I hear you calling and it's needles and pins", he sang, switching songs from the one he had been singing earlier. This one was also familiar, nostalgic in a way that dredged up memories of rooftop lunches and shared earbuds. Shouta shut the memories down, refusing to engage with the lyrics, as he instead aimed a punch at the villain's jaw that was dodged. Scream danced back a few steps, enforcing the distance between them by throwing another knife to be swallowed up by the loops of Shouta's scarf.

"I wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name", Scream continued to sing.

Shouta activated his quirk for that one, forcing the singing to stop. He normally didn't care about the singing, but he really didn't want to hear any allusions to his sexlife when his class was within earshot. Just lyrics or not, those were two aspects of his life that he didn't want meeting in any shape or form. Luckily Scream was singing the original, English version of the song, so only a few in the class picked up on the meaning of the words. (Shouta resolutely refused to acknowledge that Kaminari had gone wide-eyed and red in the face, because if Kaminari understood the lyrics, that meant soon the entire class would. Kaminari and Ashido were the two biggest gossips in the class.)

Scream, already used to the way Shouta's erasure took his breath away, flung another knife straight for Shouta's face, forcing him to break eye contact in order to dodge.

"Don't wanna touch you but you're under my skin", the villain sang, softer this time, but the vibration in his voice was rising dangerously. The ground seemed to shake, the trees rustling and shuddering as the vibrations seemed to settle deep into his bones, shaking them apart. Shouta cut it off with a kick to the ribs that sent the villain stumbling backwards.

He stumbled, and Shouta's capture scarf wound around one of his wrists, snapping in the air as it pulled taut in Shouta's grip. It was about time too, because his breath was coming in shorter, arms shaking from the effort of the battle. Which... was weird. Sure, he had been fighting for a long while now, but he should have more stamina than this. He shouldn't be feeling the strain of fighting so soon, shouldn't be hearing his pulse so loud in his ears, shouldn't feel such a burn in his arms.

The capture scarf wrapped around Scream's arms, pinning them to his sides. Scream, of course, only smiled at him. 

"I wanna kiss you but your lips are venomous", Scream sang. Shouta let a loop of his capture scarf wrap around the villain's ankles and felled him. He hit the ground hard, a soft groan leaving his bound form, before it went silent as Shouta activated his quirk again.

He took a moment to just breathe, staring down at the villain. The grey scarf pressed tight against the black leather, a contrast to help show the outline of the villain's body against the dark grass. Shouta breathed hard, pulse loud in his ears and hands shaking with effort, but his gaze remained unwavering on Scream. The villain was gasping for air, eyes wide and dilated, but Shouta kept his quirk activated. He knew, from long experience, how much of his quirk that Scream could take, and what the warning signs were when they got close to the limit.

So he remained, gaze hard and sharp as he glared down at the villain. Even as his own body was burning with the strain, his arm throbbing in pain, and...

And that wasn't normal. This wasn't normal quirk overuse, or fading adrenaline, or regular exhaustion. This wasn't... this wasn't normal.

As he stared down at the man lying breathless and gasping in the grass, he went over the fight in his head. The knife in his arm, the wide grins, the singing... The lyrics slowly came back to him, the memories of when Hizashi used to hum on that song. What had he said the name was? What were the next lyrics?...

Don't wanna touch you, but you're under my skin.

I wanna kiss you, but your lips are venomous...

... oh.

Oh, fuck. 

It wasn't until the man stilled in the grass, head lolling to the side, mouth turned away from Shouta in the closest thing to a surrender that Scream was ever willing to show, that he allowed himself to blink. He lowered his arms, knowing the capture weapon would remain tight around the fallen villain's body, as he desperately tried to work out a strategy. If what he believed had happened had actually happened...

He had to... He needed...

"Students", he said, directing his attention to the class that were watching him with wide eyes. They all flinched at his voice that sounded rough and gravely even to his own ears. "Go to the main building. We need to..." he paused, head pounding. "We need to meet up with Vlad and his class."

"But, s-sensei-" one of them stuttered, but quickly shut up when Shouta raised a hand.

"We don't know how many more villains there are or where they are, we need to stick together so we know everyone is safe. I've got Sonic Scream, let's go."

The students, for once in their lives, listened to him without arguing. They gathered themselves up, helping the more wounded among them, and quietly began making their way towards the main building. Shouta watched them leave, grey eyes remaining hard and unwavering when they met the worried glances the kids threw him. He refused to let any of them notice how his pulse was still racing and how he was struggling to keep his breathing even.

"Playing tough guy for the kids, Eraser?" Scream teased when the last of the kids were disappearing through the trees. Shouta barely managed to groan as his arms fully dropped, eyes squeezing shut for a moment to stave off the pain in his head.

He opened his eyes to look at Scream again, finding that the villain was now back to standing. The capture cloth was still wrapped tight around his arms, but the part that had previously kept his legs immobile was now just lying on the ground, slack and useless.

Shouta took a step back, trying to get his thoughts in order, even when he knew it was useless. Scream smiled at him, and with a gentle tug in the capture scarf he got it to unravel around his body, even against Shouta's will. All he could do was stare at the betrayal, mouth dry with unease.

"Took long enough!" Scream said. "With all that moving around and blood pumping activity, I thought it would set in way sooner."

Shouta tried to force himself to focus, but his vision was blurry at the edges and his mind was sluggish. He could barely get his muscles under control, much less his capture scarf. He struggled to fight against the poison running through his veins, but it was a losing battle and they both knew it.

Scream put a hand on his shoulder, and Shouta's knees buckled under the extra pressure. He collapsed down on his knees, struggling to keep himself from falling over completely, his breath short and shallow despite how he tried to deepen it. His arm throbbed, the pain from the little nick of the knife pulsating through his entire arm.

"You're poison running through my veins", Scream sang quietly, eyes locked on Shouta, who was struggling to keep himself upright on the ground. 

"Sc-Scream..." Shouta tried, but he couldn't get his body to listen to him. 

"You sent the kids away so they wouldn't see this, didn't you? Didn't want them seeing their strong, beloved teacher losing a battle?" Scream asked him, voice soft and gentle, dipping into Hizashi rather than Sonic Scream.

"Do-don't-" Shouta forced out, his tongue thick and uncooperative. "Don't hurt them... They're just- just kids..."

Scream hummed, the sound frustratingly and terrifyingly noncommittal, as he gently put a hand against Shouta's clammy cheek. The slightest bit of force, and Shouta found himself lying on his side on the ground, barely even aware to register he had fallen over. He shivered, struggling to control his body long enough to force himself up on at least his elbows, but all he managed to do was shudder.

With a soft shush of leather shifting Scream sat down on the ground next to him, toxic green eyes running over his frame. Long, slender fingers came up to tangle into his hair, gently spinning locks around them.

"Laying your life on the line for some kids, huh..." Scream said, slowly. "You're just like Oboro."

The words carried a weight in them, both exalting and damning, the highest honor and the gravest sin. Both of them held Oboro up as a hero in their hearts, a child that laid down his life for the sake of other children. Oboro was the best of them, and the world took him away, because the best don't last in a world such as theirs. But Hizashi had told him what would happen if he ended up like Oboro, if he tried to put Hizashi through that pain again. Those words were a judge's gavel, the weight of judgement falling like a blade of a guillotine.

His hand finally decided to listen to him, long enough for Shouta to reach up and clutch at the leather jacket, fingers digging into it. He looked up and saw that his hand was right over where Scream's heart would be. His eyes drifted further up, staring up at the executioner above him.

"Not the kids... Please, Mic, sa-save the kids..."

He saw the way Scream's eyes widened, his lips parting in shock as he stared down at Shouta. His breath hitched slightly, a tremor of something Shouta couldn't name flitting over his face. For one moment it wasn't Sonic Scream or Hizashi that was staring down at Shouta. It was Present Mic, the hero that had died at 16 years old together with Oboro. The loud, friendly hero that came running when Shouta was in danger, that wanted to save people.

Shouta stared up at the face of the ghost, a different one than the ones he usually chased, his grip so desperate his knuckles were turning white.

Then the mask of Sonic Scream shifted back into place, face shuttering into something dark and harsh again. Shouta could have sobbed at seeing the ghost fade away from Scream's features, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from the cold calculation in the green eyes.

"How 'bout a deal, hero?" Scream purred, voice low and toxic like the poison in Shouta's veins. "I'll take care of your audience, and you..." His fingers were back in Shouta's hair, pulling it away from his face so they could lock eyes properly. "You're coming with me. You want to sacrifice yourself for these kids? Then I'll take you up on that."

Shouta looked up at him, stared up at the cold, toxic eyes of his greatest enemy and rival. The one who had always warned him what would happen if he ended up like Oboro. The one who had no qualms about kidnapping him, kicking him off buildings or using his students against him. Going with him was a death sentence. He wouldn't be coming back. He would be leaving his friends, his students, his hero career, and U.A behind. Everything would be gone.

But if it came to him or the kids? The students that he had already failed so many times, the ones that had faced down villains too many times in the last months, the class that was thrown headfirst into the dangers of heroism when they weren't ready yet. The ones he had thought he would have more time to teach, more time to help, more time to guide.

The choice was made before the question was even asked. They both knew what he would answer.

Shouta nodded. His fingers clenched harder into Scream's jacket for a moment until the poison made his fingers loosen. His hand fell, but was caught by Scream. The villain stared at him for a moment, Shouta's hand in his, before he smiled. It was a soft, gentle smile, nothing like the grins he had shown during the fights. Now he looked pleased, content. He placed a kiss on the back of Shouta's hand, smile never leaving his face.

"It's a deal, love."

He was distantly aware of being picked up, of how his body sagged heavily against leather and how he swayed for every step as he was carried away through the trees. He tried to keep his eyes open, if for no other reason than to see how his life disappeared. It felt like he ought to be aware during a pivotal moment in his life, even if he couldn't fight it. But all he was really aware of was the way that the villain was humming, still on the same song.

Until the yell came.

"Sensei!"

The sound had worry and fear gripping his heart, his body tensing as much as it could. He tilted his head, trying to see who had been yelling, which student he needed to comfort. He strained against the leather, finally catching a glimpse of Jiro. Of course, the poor girl must have heard the conversation he had with Scream, must have realised he was giving himself up for them, must have rushed to help him. Going against his orders, flinging herself into the path of a dangerous villain, all to help him.

His class were going to become great heroes. If Shouta didn't kill them first.

Jiro ran over the clearing, reaching for her teacher, eyes wide with fear and worry. Scream barely even looked at her, a sharp whistle all he needed to make her stop in her tracks and cry out in pain, despite the protective headphones.

"Sorry, listener! But I'm out of time and I've already taken my last caller! Better luck next time, kay?" Scream smiled at her. Another sharp trill had both Jiro and Shouta grimacing in pain.

His head was throbbing in pain, almost as bad as his arm where the poison had entered, the pain almost enough to make his eyes misty. He pried his eyes open, blurry gaze finding Jiro. The girl was on her knees in the forest, both hands pressing the protective headphones harder over her ears, as she looked at her teacher. Shouta wasn't sure, his own vision far too blurry to make out the details, but he thought he saw something wet trail down her cheeks.

He wanted to reach out to her, to reassure her everything was going to be okay, despite it being a lie. But before he could even convince his mouth to open and form the words, he felt his eyes slide shut. Everything finally slipped away.

---

Shouta wasn't a stranger to waking up with his arms tied. Everyone always thought Shouta was the one with a bondage kink because of his capture scarf, but between the two of them Hizashi was the real rope fanatic. It had only gotten worse after Shouta had started using his capture scarf, and Hizashi had been obsessed with it. If he was honest he didn't know which part Hizashi liked better - tying him up or using his own weapon against him. So no, not a surprising way to wake up.

He shifted in the bonds, taking stock of his mobility, more by reflex than any conscious thought. His arms were bound behind him, the rope tight and firm, no give in the knots, keeping his hands at the small of his back. It was murder on his shoulders, especially since he was lying on his back and his entire weight had been resting on his arms for however long he had been tied up. His jumpsuit was unzipped and pulled down to his waist, leaving his upper body bare but lower body covered, in a move that was a bit surprising. Usually Hizashi stripped him completely, but now he was only missing his utility belt and capture scarf. He even had his shoes on.

With a groan he attempted to roll over, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure on his bound arms, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. At the sudden touch he froze, and blinked his heavy eyes open.

The first thing he saw was Hizashi's wide grin, reminiscent of his wolfish grin back during that fateful sports festival. The man was sitting next to the bed, still dressed in his full villain getup, leather jacket and gelled up hair and all. 

"Good morning!" he grinned, drawing out the greeting in that obnoxious radio voice of his. "Sleep well?"

"I've slept better", Shouta grumbled, and Hizashi pouted.

"That's too bad to hear! Gotta have a lil talk with my supplier then." As he talked his hand moved, leather gloves stroking over Shouta's bare shoulders. "Can't have any but the best for my audience, ya dig?"

With a soft shush of leather Hizashi stood up from the chair and got on the bed. His grin was full of teeth as he straddled Shouta, knees pressing into Shouta's sides. His hands settled over bare pecs, the leather ghosting over nipples. Shouta suppressed a shudder, his gaze hard and unwavering as he looked up at Hizashi, which only made the man laugh.

"Don't look at me like that, sweetheart! This was the deal, remember? Don't look so put out about it."

The mention of their deal cleared up any remnants of sleep-fog in Shouta's brain. He pulled in the ropes, trying to get his hands free, as he was reminded of his students. They'd been in danger, and he'd disappeared on them, were they okay, had the rest of the league been handled, were any of his students hurt-

A bite to his throat, right under the jawline, jolted him out of the sudden spike of adrenaline. He hissed at the pain, and Hizashi licked the bitemark.

"Hizashi", Shouta ground out through clenched teeth as Hizashi kept putting marks under his jawline. "Zashi, stop it, wait, the kids-"

"Did you have to mention the kids? Such a moodkill!"

"Tell me if they're okay!" Shouta snapped at him, and Hizashi leaned back. He sat back up with a roll of his eyes, his usual grin morphing into an unimpressed pout.

"Yes, they're okay. You think I don't take care of my audience?"

"The league?"

"Oh, please. You know how I get when it comes to rival DJs that don't respect my time slots." At the thought a sadistic grin settled over Hizashi's face again, and he snickered at the memory. "They won't pollute the airwaves again."

Shouta grimaced at the words, the realisation that he may have made a deal with the devil settling over him. He knew how deadly and destructive Hizashi could be, especially if he decided to go all out. If he had truly let his quirk go, then the league would be lucky if they left the training grounds with only their hearing destroyed. He wouldn't be surprised if he heard that some left the place in body bags. It had been a difficult thing to come to terms with when Sonic Scream had first entered the villain scene, the destructive power hidden behind the face of his best friend.

"Happy now?" Hizashi asked with a raised eyebrow. "I wiped out the league for you, made sure both your and Vlad's classes were okay, even checked on the pussy cats, and all that without a single ad break! You should have seen Vlad's face when he saw me, though, absolutely priceless!"

At the confirmation his class, and Vlad's, were okay, Shouta finally relaxed.

"Happy", he confirmed, and Hizashi smiled as he stroked his stubbled jawline with a gloved thumb.

"Great! Now, remember the other part of our deal?"

The hand slid further down, moving a single finger down the line of his throat. Shouta swallowed at the feel of that hand running over his throat like that. But then the finger came to a stop, and his eyes widened at what the touch suddenly made him aware of. He was so used to the feel of his scarf around his neck and shoulders, or Nedzu wrapping his tail around his neck to not fall off his shoulder when using him as a mode of transportation, that he hadn't even noticed it until now. But now he was hyperaware of the soft leather hugging his throat. It was so perfect in size, tight but not uncomfortable, that it almost had to be custom made. Even so, it was only Hizashi's dilated pupils and possessive grin that managed to truly solidify reality in Shouta's mind.

Hizashi had put a collar on him.

"You look so good like this", Hizashi mumbled, voice low, as he ran his finger over the collar. Then he flicked a finger, and a small jingle filled the space between them. Shouta's eyes widened at the familiar sound, and he craned his neck in an attempt to look down at the collar. He only caught a small glimpse of something silver, but the movement caused more jingling, confirming his horror.

"You put a bell on me?" he asked, incredulous, and Hizashi had the nerve to giggle at him.

"It's perfect, like this I'll know where you are. My darling house cat!"

He flicked the bell again, causing even more jingling.

"Fucking hell", Shouta grumbled, cheeks heating up at the humiliating words. But the words soon melted out of him as Hizashi bit down at his throat again, right over his pulse point. At that he forced himself to relax, lying back and letting Hizashi mark him up. His head tilted to the side to give Hizashi more access, and that accursed bell jingled at the motion.

"Pretty kitty", Hizashi cooed at him as he moved down Shouta's body. Shouta bit his lip, keeping the biting remarks behind his teeth. He had entered this deal willingly, he wouldn't grumble about it when it came time to pay his dues.

Hizashi moved himself down, settling down between Shouta's legs. His hands dragged down his torso, running over it like he was feeling it for the first time and wanted to map it all out under his hands. When they reached the edge of his jumpsuit that was bundled around his waist they pushed in underneath, the gentle but firm pressure setting off small sparks of anticipation in their wake. Hizashi's hands came to a rest on his hips, warm and sure against his skin, settling like puzzle pieces snapping into place. As if they had always belonged there.

For a moment they remained like that, Hizashi's thumbs rubbing circles into his hips as they both just breathed in the anticipation and all the possibilities. Shouta could almost see Hizashi's brain ticking away, deciding on what he wanted to do, how he wanted to claim his reward. It didn't come as much of a surprise when Hizashi tipped forward, leaning down over Shouta to kiss at his pecs, hands still rubbing circles into his hips. That sinful, dangerous mouth left a trail of hot kisses over Shouta's chest. His teeth nibbled in his skin, clamping down over a nipple to make Shouta hiss. He licked it in apology, but the pleased grin he wore undercut the genuinity of the apology.

His hands came up slightly, only far enough to grab fistfuls of the jumpsuit and push it further down. Shouta lifted his hips to help it slide down easier, something which seemed perfectly logical to him but that Hizashi seemed to take as a sign of surrender, a sign of want deeper than Shouta had anticipated, because the simple movement was enough for Hizashi to almost lunge at him. His fingers hooked in the collar, using it to force Shouta up from the bed, into a bend that brought him close enough for Hizashi to clash their mouths together. The kiss was all teeth and tongue, possessive in a way that had Shouta's head spinning, as if Hizashi was trying to eat him. The hand in the collar kept him from escaping, forced to simply let himself be devoured, and his eyes fluttered shut at the bruising kiss.

Hizashi's free hand was pushing down the jumpsuit, tearing at the black fabric and forcing it down Shouta's thighs, down far enough that he could caress the inner thighs, massaging the muscles. Shouta exhaled a low moan into the kiss, and Hizashi pulled him up until he was sitting up fully. The villain climbed into his lap, keeping his deathgrip on the collar with one hand as the other got lost in Shouta's hair. Long fingers tangled in black strands, twisting and curing until they could pull and force Shouta's head back, earning both a hiss of pain and a better angle to kiss him.

"Fuck", Hizashi breathed against his lips. "You're so perfect, Eraser. So perfect for me."

The use of his hero name made Shouta pause, his brow furrowing as he looked up at Hizashi. They didn't use hero names during sex. Not even when their fights as a hero and villain evolved into sex did they use those names. During sex it was just them, just Shouta and Hizashi, not their professional personas or the paths they had chosen in life. There had been a distinction before, where they both made a difference between their work and the sex.

"Zashi?" Shouta mumbled, trying to coax out the use of his name. But Hizashi just gave him another bruising kiss before pushing him down on his back again. Shouta grimaced as he landed back on his bound wrists again, pain shooting up for a moment at the awkward landing before he managed to shift his wrists into a better position. When he glanced up again his pain was momentarily forgotten at the sight of Hizashi straddling him, a wicked grin on his face and eyes gleaming with sadistic glee.

"Nice try, listener, but that's incorrect!" Hizashi smirked down at him. "Wanna try again?"

He lifted an eyebrow, trying to silently communicate just how unimpressed he was with the radio talk during sex, but it only made Hizashi's grin widen. "Okay, seriously, Zashi-"

"Err!" Hizashi grinned, and Shouta had to blink at the realisation that yes, Hizashi had just imitated a fucking buzzer. And wasn't it just like Shouta to fall for the guy that would fully commit to any and all bits, only to choose the fucking radio bit as his permanent one? "Wrong again, Eraser! Come on, you're usually smarter than that!"

Shouta blinked at him, confused and a bit uneasy. More than being unimpressed by the radio talk, he found that he didn't enjoy how Hizashi sounded when he spoke like that. The facade that he put up towards others, but that he'd always drop around Shouta. These kinds of meetings were more than just sex, it was the times when he had Hizashi back. Even when they fucked in their costumes they still dropped any pretenses around each other, were still themselves with each other. Being subjected to the radio talk was more than just finding it unsexy, it was the sinking realization of who he was facing right now.

He flinched when a leather wrapped hand grabbed his leg. Shouta tried not to look at the wide grin on Hizashi's face as he began tugging at Shouta's boots, slowly sliding them down and off. He didn't want to watch as his hero costume was slowly taken apart, his boots hitting the ground with soft thuds, hands gripping his jumpsuit and pulling.

"Wanna give it another shot, listener?" Hizashi purred, and Shouta turned his face away, struggling to ignore the way hands were working his jumpsuit down his legs, taking the last remnants of his hero costume from him. "Don't give up now, Eraserhead."

The way he purred out his hero name had Shouta almost shuddering in repulsion and a small measure of fear. While Shouta felt safe and comfortable with Hizashi, Sonic Scream was unpredictable and dangerous. He had seen the aftermath of Scream's attacks, everything from buildings in rubble and people with their brains shaken apart, leaking out their ears.

It was starting to dawn on him exactly what this was. What he had first thought was Hizashi taking his chance to jump him as thanks for keeping his students safe, was actually Scream taking the opportunity to claim him for good. He wasn't Shouta in Hizashi's eyes right now, he was Eraserhead. This was a villain claiming the win against his nemesis. After this, Shouta would probably never see his hero costume again. After this, he wouldn't be allowed out. After this, Eraserhead wouldn't exist.

This was Sonic Scream killing Eraserhead.

A tremble went through his body, and he turned his head further to the side, trying to hide in the pillows. He couldn't look as he felt his jumpsuit be pulled completely off him. He felt naked and exposed in a way he wasn't used to, more so than any other time his jumpsuit had been ripped off him by the same hands that were doing it now.

Hands ran up his legs, leather stroking his inner thighs and strong fingers pushing into his muscles. His legs were tense, trying to close in on himself even with Hizashi settled in between them. Immediately hands were on his knees and pushed his legs further apart, making them fall open.

"Getting shy on me?" Hizashi- no, Sonic Scream, hummed, and Shouta didn't have to look at him to know the grin that was settled on his face. "Finally figured it out, then?" 

He pressed kisses up Shouta's thighs. He nibbled, teeth grazing the skin, only enough to elicit a shiver. It was surprisingly gentle, both for the villain and for Hizashi, when both enjoyed causing him pain. Shouta didn't know what to expect of the gentle touches and reverent kisses, as if he was something to be treasured. This wasn't how he wanted to die. He would have preferred to die fighting, knowing he never bent to a villain. He would have preferred a violent death.

But the kisses continued to be gentle, peppered over his skin, and there was no danger from the usually deadly mouth. The softness dismantled him faster than any violence would have, because it reminded him of what he had lost. It reminded him of Hizashi's eager nervousness during their first time, when the boy hovered over him with a lost expression, so unsure of what to do next. It reminded him of when Hizashi would kiss his split knuckles after a particularly rough heroics lesson. It reminded him of Hizashi's tears as they huddled together, arms tight around each other, mourning a friend together.

Memories of a time that didn't exist anymore, a past that had been sullied by blood and violence.

A bite to his thigh, hard enough to drag a hiss out between clenched teeth, brought him out of his reminiscence. He spared the villain above him a glare, even as ineffective and useless his glares were when he couldn't follow up on them. All he got in return was a grin and a mocking smile. 

"No being quiet on the air, Eraser. If you have the answer, you gotta share it!" 

Shouta ground his teeth together, jaws clenched tight. His hands rolled underneath him, his muscles spasming with the urge to hide or get away, to get out of this situation. He didn't want to confess what Scream was looking for, the admission locked in the back of his mouth. But Scream never let him get away, biting harder into his thigh. He bit and bit, sucking marks into his flesh, marking up his thighs but not touching him. Despite the situation Shouta felt heat pool in his core, anticipation wriggling through his guts at the feeling. 

"Say it", the villain demanded. "Say my name, love song." 

Shouta's mouth remained shut, only letting small huffs of air through, but not a single syllable that could be taken to mean what Scream was after. But they were both stubborn, and Scream knew him far too well to make his refusal easy on him. The villain left one final kiss on the inside of his thighs, and then, with a mischievous grin, he reached up to lick a long stripe up Shouta's hardness. It caught him off guard, the sudden stimulation making him shudder and gasp. 

Scream smiled, and began gently kissing the head of Shouta's dick. The kisses were soft, far too little to do anything other than have Shouta's gut clench in anticipation. His arms writhed in their bonds with the want to bury his fingers in Scream's blonde hair and push him down on his dick. He wanted to feel those lips around him again, but he was stuck and left to Scream's mercy. 

"Say it", Scream said softly, his warm breath making Shouta shiver. "Say it and I'll be good to you." 

Shouta was a stubborn man. But he was only a man, and Scream knew all his weaknesses. What was even the point in delaying the inevitable? He wasn't getting out of this alive, why cling to denial? Why not take his pleasure in his death? 

"Happy now... Sonic Scream?" he grumbled, and was rewarded with a warm smile. 

"Immensely", the man purred, and then followed up on his end of the deal. He opened his mouth, tongue coming out to lick at the head of Shouta's dick for a moment, before lips closed around it. 

That mouth was warm around him, a warmth Shouta knew well, a place he'd returned to many times over the years. Warm and wet and welcoming, closing over him and taking as much as it could, choking on him. Wet lips worked themselves down over his length, taking as much of him as possible, deeper and further. A sinful tongue moved over his flesh, digging into his sensitive spots to make him shiver. A dangerous tongue, one that knew him so well, knew how to make him tip his head back and bite his lip to stifle the moans building in his throat. He couldn't decide between bucking his hips up into the warmth encompassing him or pulling back just to put up a fight, but the choice was taken from him, fingers digging into his hips and keeping him in place. He could almost feel the bruises that would bloom later, perfect fingerprints, evidence as to who his killer was.

Scream was blissfully quiet, his mouth occupied and any mocking comments forced to stay down his throat. Shouta could still feel the weight of his manic, gleeful gaze, but he refused to acknowledge it. He kept his eyes on the ceiling, biting his lip so hard he was close to bleeding, hands twitching in the binds. His mind was getting fuzzy at the edges, his sensations narrowing down to the tongue working on him. Scream pulled back slightly, only to then greedily take back the inch he had given up. He settled into a motion, letting go a little more each time before taking it all back.

Saliva drooled down Shouta's length as Scream was all but fucking himself on Shouta, his throat constricting around him for every thrust. It didn't take long for Shouta to lose the battle with himself, his hips twitching, trying to buck into the warm mouth above him. But all he got for his troubles was a harder grip keeping him still.

But Sonic Scream was never so simple.

Just as Shouta started losing himself to the pleasure, the humming began. It was low, deep, down in the back of Scream's throat. It enveloped the tip of Shouta's dick, the walls around him trembling. It felt like the air had been punched out of him, chest constricting as he threw his head back, gasping for air. The vibrations worked themselves up, through Scream's throat and his mouth, wrapping around Shouta, and he couldn't help the noise he made at that. Low and needy, a whine for more, even as his thighs were trembling with pleasure.

His hips were held in a vice grip, keeping him in place as the vibrations that could so easily turn deadly worked to shake his self-control apart. He trembled, losing his mind to the hums that wrapped themselves around him. There was no way of stopping the noises spilling from his throat, brought forth by the vibrations that Scream somehow managed to flow like a tide, going from encompassing his entire mouth to just the back of his throat and then back again. Shouta struggled to buck his hips up, chasing the sensations as they pulled down, but he was mercilessly held down.

It took him far too long to realize Scream was sliding back and off him, his mind honed in on the humming. It was only when he slipped out of the villain's mouth completely, the vibrations pulled away from him, that he realized it. He let out a needy, plaintive noise, something between a whine and a groan.

"Fuck, you're hot like this", Scream mumbled, his voice slightly hoarse. He peppered kisses to Shouta's thighs again as he sat back up on his knees. He slid off the bed, allowing Shouta a moment to recover. Shouta was so lost in the aftertremors of Scream's quirk he barely noticed the absence until he heard the shush of leather again. He cracked one eye open, glancing over to watch Scream undressing. He shrugged off the leather jacket and the shirt underneath, pants, underwear and boots following. It wasn't a sexy striptease, not until he caught Shouta looking at him. Then he grinned, and made a show of pulling his leather gloves off with his teeth. 

Seeing him like this, without his villain gear and focused on being a dramatic nerd, Shouta had a hard time remembering he was Sonic Scream. He didn't look like a villain, at the moment. He was just Hizashi, his loud and enthusiastic friend and lover, with his sunny smiles and vibrant green eyes. When Hizashi looked at him, with eyes full of warm lust and adoration, the outside world of heroes and villains disappeared. It was just them again. 

Hizashi got back on the bed, fingers slick with lube, as he settled in between Shouta's legs again. His legs were lifted up until they were lying around Hizashi's waist, giving his fingers room to slowly dip down to press at his entrance. 

He gave a small hiss, not in pain but more in recognition of the intrusion. No matter how many times they did this, the first breach always felt a bit weird. He breathed hard, tipping his head back as Hizashi's deft fingers worked him open. Hizashi had always been good with two things - his mouth and his fingers. Maybe it was the time playing the guitar and the piano and the violin or whatever other instrument he could get his hands on, but Hizashi's fingers were unfairly dexterous and skilled. They played him exactly like one of his instruments, prodding and moving within him to coax out small noises and hisses.

Even now, when the action meant death, Shouta couldn't stop himself from melting to the touches. Hizashi crooked his finger, just slightly, just enough to rub at the most sensitive spots inside him. He rubbed slowly, carefully, like he was testing the tuning of an instrument. He continued to pepper kisses over him, leaving bitemarks and hickies on his thighs, hips and abdomen, all while he moved his finger slowly and experimentally. Maybe it was the pleasure still simmering from the humming, or a testament to just how well Hizashi knew his body, but Shouta found himself dissolving to the touches faster than he anticipated. His mind was fuzzy, attention honed in on the sparks of ecstasy Hizashi pulled from him.

Another finger added, then a third, rubbing on his insides, making him slowly open up. Just as he thought he had gotten accustomed to the feeling, those fingers hooked, and found the spot that made him see stars. His back arched, his inhale getting caught in his throat, stuttering as he tried again and again to inhale. The spot inside him was stroked and prodded, Hizashi's fingers not letting up the abuse in the slightest. Once more the orgasm began building in Shouta's core, molten gold pooling in his guts as it drew closer and closer. He threw his head to the side, letting his hair fall over his face, covering his sweaty face and glazed eyes as he was pushed and pushed into an orgasm-

Hizashi withdrew his fingers, leaving Shouta empty and without reaching the apex. His hips hit the bed again with a frustrated whine, and he had to bite his lip to keep down the demands for Hizashi to finish what he started.

"You're so cute", Hizashi mused, running his hand covered in lube and juices over Shouta's torso, streaking the liquids over his body. Another mark, making him scowl slightly, but he didn't say anything. Hizashi brushed his hair away from his face, tucking it behind his ear in a far too gentle and intimate move.

"Fuck you", Shouta breathed, but it lacked heat. Hizashi clicked his tongue.

"Can't swear on the air, Eraser! Gotta keep it PG, ya know!"

His legs were hiked up higher, strong hands manhandling him until his legs were resting on Hizashi's shoulders, hips off the bed, and he had to shift his shoulders to take the weight off his bound wrists. He tried to glare up at Hizashi, but held no illusions about how effective the glare was at the moment, considering the position and the responding grin Hizashi gave him. So instead he turned his head away, knowing what was to come but unwilling to give Hizashi the pleasure of seeing his reactions clearly. Unwilling to see his life end.

All he got for it was Hizashi biting his leg again, keeping the leg still with one hand as the other worked lube over himself. The bite was hard, deep, pain blooming under the pressure of his teeth. It kept pushing, and pushing, until Shouta finally gave a hiss of pain. Only then did the pressure ease up, and Hizashi gave him a little lick over the bitemark. He was a little gentler with pushing the tip of his dick into him, but as soon as he was slightly in he slammed his hips forwards in a brutal thrust. Shouta couldn't stop the gasp that left him, all but punched out of him. His hands flexed against their bonds at the sudden rough motion.

Hizashi kept mercifully still for a moment, leaned down over Shouta and panting. They stayed like that for a few seconds, just getting used to being joined together like this. Hizashi's invasion of him was slow, sinking in just a bit more every time. Even with the fingering it was a lot, the pressure unrelenting as he sank in. Shouta's back arched in an attempt to pull air down his lungs, but finding it impossible, as if Hizashi was pushing the very air out of him for every bit that sank further into him. After a few moments in agonizing bliss of unforgiving pressure pushing into him, Hizashi was finally pushed down to the hilt, hips flush with Shouta's ass. Again they stayed still for a moment, a moment of mercy as Shouta grew accustomed to the sensation, of being filled.

Then, too soon, he pulled his hips back. They snapped forward with the same brutal force, making him groan from both the pain and pleasure, leaving Shouta gasping for breath as he was pounded into. Hizashi's unrelenting grip kept him in place as he was rocked into the bed. The accursed bell jingled as it shook for every thrust.

"Should have put, ah, a bell on you earlier", Hizashi gasped, his pace not faltering even when he was talking. Shouta could only grunt in response, barely given enough leeway to pull a breath into his lungs, much less use it to form words.

Hizashi had no such problems, of course.

"You're such a good kitten for me, Eraser. Fuck, that cute little bell jingling like that. Mm, maybe like this I'll finally be able to know where you are. Would be easier to keep an eye on you like this, you know? Make sure you don't run off into danger. Do you have any fucking idea what it was like, learning that you had rushed out to Hosu, with all those nomus around? One almost killing you wasn't fucking enough for you, no, you had to find a small army of them!"

If Shouta had somehow missed the anger in Hizashi's voice, then it was very clear in the brutal, punishing pace of his hips. He slammed into him, harsh and unforgiving. It felt like his breath was punched out of him, over and over again, leaving him unable to do more than gasp for breath. Defending himself and his choices was out of the question, especially with his head swimming and unable to speak. His hands spasmed at the small of his back, opening and closing as he searched for something to hold onto, to ground him. He could barely get a grip on the sheets underneath him, the fabric slipping through his fingers. All he could do was lie there and take the punishment he had willingly submitted himself to.

"Not that it- ah, fuck, - not that it matters now, though. You're never leaving my fucking sight again. I'll keep you on a leash if I have to. Mine, all mine, never letting you go again. I've already killed heroes, you know, Eraser? What's taking one more from the world? Huh?"

Despite the words, despite the humiliation and the finality of the situation, Shouta still felt the orgasm building back in him again. Hizashi knew him too well, knew just how to pound into him to make him bite his lip to stifle moans and whines. His head was swimming, his world shrinking down to the sensations Hizashi pulled from him. The way Hizashi pushed into all the right spots, knew how to make stars explode in front of his eyes, knew how to pitch his voice to make it vibrate just so to make Shouta's mind fray at the edges. He wondered for one moment if Hizashi was using his quirk, dipping down into that relaxing frequency, to make Shouta's mind succumb, or if he was just eager to lose his mind so he didn't have to think about what would happen after this.

Long, devastating fingers wrapped around his dick, warm and sudden enough that he flinched. He snapped his gaze to Hizashi, breath hitching. He saw the way his lips were parted to let him pant, how his eyes had lost their manic edge and were now just hazy with lust and need. He was so lost in the way a strand of blonde hair stuck to Hizashi's sweaty forehead and how he could feel every hot breath that he momentarily forgot the hand on him.

The moment that hand began to move, stroking him up and down, Shouta swore he lost his mind completely. He only managed to breathe out a curse, breath leaving him. The sensations quickly became overwhelming, the hand on him rubbing him up and down, thumb pressing into the spots Hizashi knew so well. Hizashi had always been ruthless, always happy to use any and all knowledge of him against him, especially during times like this. All Shouta could do was succumb to the haze of lust that filled his mind, losing himself completely. He bucked his hips as much as he could, not knowing if he wanted to buck up into the hand on him or down on Hizashi. Both ways brought him such amazing pleasure, there was no way of deciding between them.

"So pretty, you're perfect, fuck, you're so perfect. Say you're mine and I'll let you cum okay? Mine, say it, you're mine."

Hizashi was babbling at this point, losing himself just as much as Shouta was.

"Mine, mine, all mine, fucking never letting you go, you hear me? Say it, come on, say it for me."

"Za- I'm- " Shouta attempted, the stuttered syllables knocked loose from his tongue at the almost desperate thrusts. The hand on him sped up, almost making him sob at the overwhelming pleasure that flooded his brain.

"Say you're mine!"

Hizashi's thrusts sped up even further, voice coaxing as he worked to get Shouta to orgasm. The speed and rough thrust made the pleasure build up and up, layer upon layer until it became a vulcano Shouta couldn't - wouldn't - hold back.

"Zashi-"

The hand on him stopped, denying him the last push he needed, and he lost his final bit of sanity. He felt it crumble in his hands, the desperation and need overtaking his rationality, and he nearly sobbed. The last of the fight left him, and he gave in completely.

"Y-yours!" he cried out. "Yours, Zashi, please- fuck, I'm yours!"

The hand was back on him, and the effect was immediate. The orgasm was overpowering, wiping away everything else. It crashed down over him with the devastating power of a tidal wave. It slammed into him, rushing through him. His vision whitened out, his empty and crushed lungs gasping for breath. It pulled him under, sweeping him out to sea, until he was left floating with no idea of what was up or down. He felt Hizashi's release as a second tidal wave, filling him as he was already struggling to find breath.

When he came down from the rush, it was to Hizashi leaned over him, panting heavily. He was clinging to him, fingers digging into his skin, like a lifeline. They stay locked together a little longer, slowly coming down, using each other as anchors. Eyes locked together, hazy and unfocused, neither really seeing one another but finding comfort in the connection. 

Hizashi lowered him down on the bed slowly, grip gentle. Shouta was shaking, both from the orgasm and the strain on his body. The hands on him and the humming voice in his ears were gentle, soft, caring, but he was barely aware of it. He quietly allowed it as he was rolled over on his side, just enough for the bindings on his hands to be undone. It was only when he was able to pull his hands around to the front that he realised just how stiff his arms and shoulders were. Hizashi helped rub the strain out, and Shouta let himself sink into the warmth of the care, knowing he was in good hands. He simply relaxed, and let himself be cared for. 

Hizashi's hands were warm and firm as they guided him down on his back again and worked to relax his muscles. It was a warm point of gravity, a connection to the world around him as his mind eased back down from the high. Right when awareness had begun to trickle back into him Hizashi's warmth left him. He let out a noise of complaint, but was too tired to actually fight against it. He couldn't help but wonder if it was an aftereffect of whatever Hizashi had drugged him with, or if he was just that exhausted naturally. It might very well be the second one, he had spent a long while on high alert, and now he was finally able to actually relax. 

When Hizashi returned it was with a damp towel, and he set out to clean both of them up. Hizashi worked methodically, cleaning him up and leaving kisses in his wake. The gentle drag of the towel over his skin and Hizashi's warm, heavy presence, could very easily have lulled Shouta back to sleep. But he kept his eyes open, so that when Hizashi finally put the towels away he could open his arms and see the way Hizashi's face lit up with adoration and happiness.

It was such a small action, just an invitation to cuddle, but the blonde jumped on it like Shouta was a second away from changing his mind. He threw himself into Shouta's arms, snuggling down to lay his head on Shouta's chest, arms wrapped around him securely. He let out a pleased hum that turned into a soft purr when Shouta's hand found the back of his head, gently curling his fingers to scratch at Hizashi's scalp. 

They didn't talk any more that night. Both of them were exhausted from the events of the night, and what it would mean for the future. Hizashi was a warm weight over him, heavy and secure, something inescapable and certain. Shouta stared up at the ceiling for a while, fingers gently scratching at Hizashi's scalp, as he thought about everything he was leaving behind. His friends, his class, his career. Nemuri and Tensei would never forgive him for this, for leaving them, for disappearing the way Hizashi had all those years ago. He hoped they found some solace in one another, at least. He hoped his class got a good teacher, one that would push them to succeed, one that would keep them safe the way Shouta had tried to. His career... It was difficult, trying to imagine himself without his career. It had been his everything for so long that he had a hard time figuring out who he was outside of it. 

Hizashi's hand curled over his free one, slender fingers closing over his, a point of contact to connect him with reality. His gaze flitted down to Hizashi, looking into the soft green eyes that met him. A silent look, full of so much and nothing at all. Acceptance of what was going around in his mind, and a firm reminder that he couldn't back out. Shouta squeezed his hand. 

Eraserhead closed his eyes for the very last time, and took his last breath. 

---

Hizashi was a man of his word, and during the next week Shouta found his hero identity efficiently and methodically dismantled. His hero costume was gathered up and burnt. Shouta would have told Hizashi that it was a waste of dramatics to do something like burning his hero costume, it wasn't like he had any sentimental connections to the thing. It was just fabric that he would end up replacing every few years thanks to wear and tear anyways. But he was used to Hizashi's dramatics, so he submitted to the spectacle with minimal grumbling. Hizashi didn't destroy his capture weapon, instead spiriting it away to be locked away somewhere. Shouta knew he still had it, but didn't know where it was or how to get it. Not that it mattered, since, in Hizashi's words;

"It's not like you're going to use it."

The most annoying change was the collar. It turned out to be a permanent accessory, locked around his throat at all times. It had a biometric lock that only responded to Hizashi, leaving him the only one able to get it off. Shouta had tried, of course, but after a couple of botched tries and an ill-advised but desperate attempt with a lighter Hizashi informed him that it had metal interwoven in it, reminiscent of Shouta's capture weapon. Less refined, but no less effective to make it impossible to get off.

Shouta would never admit it, but he found the weight and the snugness of it comforting at times. It reminded him of his capture weapon or Nedzu's tail wrapped around him when the mammal rode on his shoulder. But maybe that was just his mind trying to find some sort of coping mechanism to being stuck with a collar he couldn't get off and unable to leave Hizashi's private rooms in the villain base he commanded.

The rooms were spacious, including a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and living room. It was like an apartment, all for Hizashi to relax in by himself. It was the only space Shouta was allowed to be in, and he had quickly given up on getting out. It was completely without windows for him to escape through, and with seemingly only one entryway. Even though he knew there had to be a second entry somewhere, no villains or heroes worth their salt would be okay with only one exit, he hadn't found it yet. At least the rooms were fully furnished to fit Hizashi's tastes, which meant a tv with movies, full bookshelves and a few instruments, so he had distractions. There wasn't much for him to do, not when his mind was used to the constant combined work burdens of teaching and being a pro hero, but the boredom never fully got to him. 

In all honesty, the thing he hated most about his new living situation, apart from the lack of freedom, was the fucking bell. It was still stuck to his collar, still jingling for every step or sudden move, and Shotua was slowly going insane over it. When he complained to Hizashi all he got was a sadistic smile and a comment about what a "pretty cat" he was. At least the collar didn't have any quirk suppressants in it, so Shouta could respond to those comments by cutting off Hizashi's quirk and fucking him on the couch, the bell drowning out his silent but desperate pleas for more.

However, the thing about cats was that they didn't let things stop them. Faced with rules or absolutes they worked around them, finding ways to do how they pleased even with the rules put on them. Putting a bell on a cat just made them stealthier, learning how to move around without setting off the bell. Put a bell on a cat to know where they are and they just learn how to sneak around you better.

Shouta had always been told he acted like the cats he loved, like a stray that came and went like they pleased and didn't care if you hated them. It was still the highest compliment he'd received. Since Hizashi not only put a collar on him but a bell? Shouta was happy to act like the cats he had always been compared to.

It took a while to learn just how to put his feet down, how to shift his weight, how to move over the ground, without setting off the bell. But in time he mastered it. He glided through the rooms, moving over the floor like a silent spectre, the bell silent. 

There weren't a lot of Hizashi's underlings allowed in the spaces that Shouta roamed, but the few that were made for great target practice. They would enter the room, often with paperwork or food or some other delivery, and despite trying to be quiet as to not disturb their boss, compared to an underground hero they were always so noisy as they set down their deliveries. With the noise covering him Shouta would silently slide up on them, moving through the shadows, until he was standing right behind them. That's when he would either ask a question right in their ear or touch their shoulder, making them jump high in the air and shriek. By the time Hizashi would make it to the rattled underling clutching their chest in alarm Shouta would already be gone, slinking away, leaving the underling to try to explain to their boss exactly why they'd been screaming. When the rumours of the base being haunted began to spread, Shouta hid the ensuing grin in the cushions of the couch he was pretending to nap on.

After a while of training on his own and scaring underlings until people were scared to enter Hizashi's private area of the base, Shouta decided it was time to terrorize his resident villain. If Hizashi wanted to put a bell on him and call him "kitten" with that smug, mocking smile, then he would have to deal with the realities of being a cat "owner." One of those realities was that cats were often assholes that enjoyed messing with their humans.

One evening, a month or so into Shouta's captivity, he silently moved out of the bedroom and into the living room. Hizashi was settled in the couch, the blue light of the tv spilling over the living room. The news was playing on a low volume, but Hizashi was only half paying attention to it, scrolling on his phone. Shouta moved through the shadows, his steps completely silent as he shifted his weight forwards. The bell didn't move, lying as still and quiet as always against his throat. A small smile spread over his face as he moved, slowly, towards his prey. He moved up, gliding over the floor, until he was standing behind the couch, a solid shadow in the living room, a ghost leaning in over Hizashi. The villain was still looking at his phone, completely unaware of the danger at his back. Shouta leaned forward until his mouth was right next to Hizashi's ear.

"Zashi", he said, sudden and warm against Hizashi's ear.

He ducked to dodge the panicked attack, narrowly avoiding the pillow Hizashi flung at him, before straightening to activate his quirk on the villain. Hizasahi scrambled off the couch, phone raised in one hand as if he could use the device as a weapon, silent huffs of panic escaping him. His chest was heaving with adrenaline and fear, loose blonde hair hanging over his shoulders as he stood with arms raised in defense. It was only when his eyes flickered in recognition and understanding, mouth dropping open with indignation, that Shouta released his quirk on him.

"You asshole!" Hizashi shrieked at him as soon as he was able, grabbing another pillow to chuck at him. Shouta snickered as he dodged the attack, easily evading the pillow. "What the hell was that?!"

"Wanted to ask you something", Shouta said with a vague shrug. Hizashi squawked and made a playful swing at him, and Shouta dodged again.

"What was with that fucking sneaking!" Hizashi yelled at him, even though the corner of his mouth was twitching upwards. "Damnit, Sho, you scared me! I could have leveled the building! The whole reason for putting a bell on you was to know where the fuck you are!"  He huffed, and then his eyes narrowed. "Shouta... Did you somehow get the bell off?" 

Shouta gave him a lazy smirk, crossing his arms on the back of the couch and leaning forward slightly. The bell jingled lightly now that he wasn't purposefully working to keep it silent, and the silver glinted in the lights from the tv. Hizashi's eyes caught on it, huffing a disbelieving laugh at seeing that Shouta was indeed still wearing it.

"Should have known you would do something like this", Hizashi said, but his voice was kinder now, amusement bleeding into his tone. Shouta only smiled at him.

Hizashi settled back onto the couch again, sitting so he was turned towards Shouta instead of the tv. The backlight made his blonde hair glow white, his smile a shadowed thing. Behind him the news was still playing, the news reporter talking about how the latest hero raid on a hideout for the league had led the police to discover several dead bodies. The news reporter only said that the police believed Sonic Scream to be involved, one more attack of the supervillain against other villain groups the last month, but Shouta had seen enough of the police reports on crimes where Scream was a suspect to fill in the blanks. If the police suspected Scream, he knew what the state of the dead criminals were.

"The question remains - does Sonic Scream's attacks on other villain groups have any connection to the supervillain's appearance at U.A's training camp a month ago? While the villain groups Sonic Scream has attacked aren't confirmed to be the ones behind the previous attacks on U.A, Sonic Scream's new pattern of attacking other villains does coincide with his fight with the League of Villains during the training camp. The police had no answers to give when asked, and were not able to give any news concerning the kidnapping of pro hero Eraserhead, the homeroom teacher of class 1-A at U.A. The hero was kidnapped from-"

Fingers in his collar brought his attention away from the news report, and his gaze flicked back to Hizashi. With a small tug in the collar he was pulled down to Hizashi's level, their mouths finding each other. It was a surprisingly tame and chaste kiss, without teeth or tongue. Hizashi's grip in the collar was hard, but he couldn't hide the way his knuckles were trembling minutely against Shouta's throat. Shouta forced his tense muscles to relax, to melt into the kiss. His submission made Hizashi's fingers stop trembling, and the kiss turned sharper, teeth nipping at his lips.

"You're mine", Hizashi whispered when they both broke for air, the claim breathed against his parted lips.

"The police have repeatedly put out a plea to the public to report any sightings of Sonic Scream, as U.A stresses their wish for Eraserhead's safe return. The students at U.A has spoken out-"

The bell jingled when Hizashi tugged in the collar, forcing Shouta's head further down, down until they were at eye level with each other. Hard, toxic green eyes met grey ones.

"You're mine, Shouta."

The declaration was harder now, firmer, a demand. A reminder both of the deal they made in the forest at the godsforsaken training camp, and the reality Shouta was living. Stuck in the same four rooms, unable to leave, with Hizashi's claim around his neck at all times.

"We just want our teacher back."

"I'm yours", Shouta breathed.

When the kiss claimed his lips again he let his eyes slide shut, hiding from the screen showing his class' heartbroken faces. Hiding from the reality that he had settled into Hizashi's possessiveness, had thrived in it since they were students, had always... always enjoyed it. Had never properly fought Hizashi, had never tried to get away from him. Had always known it would end up with this, with the two of them destroying each other and reveling in it. Their relationship was unhealthy, an inflamed wound they both picked at, and he hadn't tried to change it. 

Because Hizashi was a freak. He was possessive, needy, and sadistic, taking his rage and pain out on the world. 

But so was Shouta.