Content Warnings May Apply
Written with @presentiing‘s Present Mic in mind.
"Come on, Shota! You need to relax a little! I know how stressed and overworked you've been, but —"
Well-intended words quickly fell into the background, smothered by stress and the harsh flickers of memories that had no place in the current conversation. His best friend's eternally loud voice somehow ceasing to be audible, like it was underwater all the sudden. Lips moving, but he couldn't focus enough to read them despite all their years of practice together. White-noise lost under the heavy weight of Shota's own anxieties.
Focus. Hizashi's talking to you.
Stop thinking about the past.
——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———
( "Oh come ooonnn, Eraser! Don't be such a killjoy!" That sing-song voice like nails on a chalkboard to his ears, grating into the last shreds of his patience. Emi was grinning at him like an idiot, hand curled against her fellow hero's arm — for a fleeting second, Shota had half a mind to break it, and then he remembered exactly how much he couldn't do that.
One of the flaws in being a part of Hero Society: you couldn't enforce your boundaries quite as violently, or even as vocally, as you could in the villain communities. Add that to the list of facts that he'd never stop hating about this double-life.
❝ Let go, Joke. ❞ Deadpanned words from a bitter tongue, jaw set with upset tension. ❝ You know that's not going to work on me. ❞
"Then I'm sure there are other ways to get a smile out of you — !" )
——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———
Memories forced to a halt like a scratching record, returning to the present only to too-quickly jerk back from Mic's hand on his own — obsidian eyes flashing in a warning that hardly made sense to the situation.
❝ I said no. ❞ Too cold, bile rising up in the villain's throat. Why did he feel so fucking sick all the sudden...?
——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———
"Just relax for me. Don't you want to pass that —"
"I'm sure there are other ways to get you to cooperate. Now —" )
——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———
A flurry of older memories, sentences cutting off halfway through each other, such a blur of another life that Aizawa couldn't even put a face to the words anymore. Nausea worsening by the second, he shook his head suddenly, boots striking the floor heavily as he stepped further away from the other, a pale hand lifting to cover his own mouth. It took far too many seconds for his ears to catch up to the actual response —
"—I know, Shota." Softer than any of the memories that kept trying to dredge their way back to the surface, green eyes blown wide with worry that, for once, Mic wasn't attempting to hide. The hero's hands were lifted halfway, palms facing outward, a clear display of non-threat. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize we'd passed 'banter' into 'boundary' — that's my bad."
Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, hand still raised to his own mouth as he tried to swallow back the waves of nausea, Aizawa gave a short nod.
Calm down. You're safe. It's just Hizashi.
"Shota, baby?... Are you okay?" Gentle words from a concerned tongue, pointedly quieter than usual. Familiar in the other direction; a comfort in ways that he'd never truly found a way to describe.
Aizawa shook his head, swallowing thickly past the nauseous knot in his throat. ❝ I... I will be. ❞ Deep breath, count to ten, let it out. ❝ I'm sorry. It's been a tense day. ❞
That wasn't the problem, but they could leave it at that. Like he had so many times before, though not nearly to this extent of visible upset. Maybe, if he just calmed down quickly enough, they could still leave it here.
Nothing would be gained from explaining this one, after all.
Come on ——
Aizawa
Shota
Eraser
Void
—— Just. Relax.
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