Chapter Text
Shouta blinked down at the rubble. At the blood. His eyes burned.
His capture scarf became heavy. His goggles filled with rainwater. It didn't matter. They didn't matter.
Oboro.
He shook, out of chill or out of grief, he didn't know.
Oboro was in a body bag.
Loud Cloud was no more.
A broken speaker, water-logged and gripped in another's hand.
All he could hear was ringing. Static. Hizashi was saying something. He couldn't register it.
Shouta dug out his provisional license. He shoved it into Hizashi's hand, smearing both him and the ID in blood. It got washed away by the rain. He tore his goggles and capture scarf off of him, throwing them to the ground.
He took a jerky step backwards. Away from Hizashi, away from Nemuri, away from Sensoji.
He ran.
Broken and bruised and bloody, Shouta ran.
Shouts burst out behind him, breaking through the fog. Not enough.
He didn't care to where. He didn't care that he just had his first solo-takedown. He didn't care that he was supposed to get checked out by the first responders. Not when it wasn't supposed to be solo. Not when he lost one of his best friends in the process.
It could have been hours. It could have been minutes. It could have been seconds.
He didn't know how long he ran for.
All he knew was the ache, the burn, the grief.
Oboro wasn't going to plop a kitten in Shouta's hair, claiming it was the perfect place for a catnap. Oboro wasn't going to grab his and Hizashi's hands and drag them to the cafeteria to beat the crowds. Oboro wasn't going to do anything anymore.
He's dead. Gone.
There one moment, vanished the next.
When he couldn't run anymore, he stumbled into an alley. The rain had stopped sometime between seeing the rubble and stopping. He caught his breath, shivering.
Shouta glanced around the alley and stilled.
There was a child. Tiny, curled up to be even smaller. There were vines wrapped around them, digging into their arms, writhing. The recent rain probably aided the strength, the growth. Beads of blood made its way from around sharp thorns. Emitter. Something he could help.
Shouta made his way closer. Slow. No quick movements. He didn’t want to startle them. He knelt down to be on their level.
“Hey, kid.” He murmured. “I’m–” He couldn’t make himself say the words Hero Student. “I’m Aizawa, and I can help. My quirk cancels out other quirks for as long as I keep my eyes open. Can I use my quirk on you?”
The kid nodded, frantic. Their eyes were wide with panic.
Activating Erasure was painful. Beyond painful, even. He had already worked it to its limit and he left his eye drops back at the agency. It didn’t matter, though, once the vines went limp. The kid coughed between sobs of relief. They lunged at him, tucking themself into his arms. Comfort seeking. The kid was– What– Elementary school-aged? Of course they sought comfort.
“I– I– can’t control it.” They cried. “It hurts. It– It hurts.”
He kept up Erasure, thanking all of his endurance training. The vines receded, bit by bit.
“Breathe.” Shouta advised. “Focus on me, alright? My shirt’s all damp, feel the texture? How about the gravel underneath us?”
The kid clutched his shirt, tucking their head against his shoulder.
"Y–yeah. I can feel it." They replied.
Shouta examined their arms, where the thorns had been. They were sluggishly bleeding.
"I have some All Might bandaids for those cuts." He states gently. "Why don't I bandage those up?"
The kid nodded and held out their arms, visibly brightening up at the idea of All Might's face being wound-dressing. He dug in his utility belt for the needed items.
Shouta wiped the small punctures with an antiseptic wipe with a small warning for the sting, before placing each bandaid.
The kid calmed down further, no longer crying.
"There we are." He said once he finished. "Are you ready to take control of your quirk? I can't keep my eyes open forever, you know."
The kid got a determined expression on their face.
"I can do it." They proclaimed.
"Alright, blinking now."
With that warning, Shouta blinked. No vines reappeared. The kid rubbed their hands together. They grinned.
Shouta found that grin to be more rewarding than taking down that villain.
He grinned back.
–
"You're serious about this." Hizashi stated in disbelief. "Shou, really?!"
It was the end of the year. Re-enrollment was what everyone was complaining about. Third year was fast approaching.
Shouta nodded. He jotted down the answer to a question on their Heroic Law and Ethics homework.
"I'm transferring back to Gen-Ed." He confirmed. "I want to become a pediatrician. Pediatrics nurse, more likely. Quirk accident-care oriented."
Hizashi tilted his head. His blonde hair waved in the wind of the rooftop.
"Why not be a quirk councelor, then?"
Shouta snorted.
"Have to use my provisional for something, right? I don't want to do the paperwork and tests and courses for using my quirk in a sit-down job. I can use my provisional in pediatrics. It transfers over." He explained.
He had researched and cross-referenced for weeks. It made more sense to use what he already had.
Hizashi hummed.
"It'll be... weird, not fighting by your side." He sighed, quieter than he usually was. It sounded wrong on him. Looked wrong, too. "Weird not having you in class anymore, as well."
"I'll be a civilian only by technicality. That doesn't mean that we can't be friends." Shouta rolled his eyes. "And I still have to renew my license when it expires, same as any hero. I just won't be a hero."
Hizashi hugged him tight, the movement sudden enough that Shouta's schoolwork tumbled out of his lap. Shouta hugged him back, rubbing along his spine over the uniform blazer.
"Eraserhead died with Oboro, huh?" Hizashi choked out, tearing up. It was if the realization hit him like a stray beam.
Shouta shut his eyes.
"Yes," he agreed. "Eraserhead died with Oboro."
And dead Eraserhead will stay.