tired dad™

            sips.

“this doesn’t taste like grape juice…”

Heart beats throbbed through veins, sharing their presence loud and clear for the sense of hearing. For a moment there          everything felt so comfortable .. pain ceased from existence, injures were no visible for the fooled eye. Blood faded to dust, as if forgotten as the causes for it’s visit appeared blurry in mind. Oh, he was so tired, and despite the bright light that surrounded every corner in own sight, declaring that it’s true mean is to harm any ‘glassy windows’ and keep them shut - the color was warm and welcoming       what did even happen before he reached that place ? … He couldn’t recall.

     ‘   DEKU. ’

                          !! INHALE.

‘ get up. we have to go. ’

Right, right. What was he thinking. He still needs        He still needs to RESCUE ERI . Facial features winced in pain, recalling all of collected emotions that for a moment there, were all gone and lost. Emerald orbs brightened in an invited surprise as memories brushed along mind, snatching out the last imagery of ERASER HEAD - where he’s yet captive as fault of Midoriya’s incomplete work      and suddenly now, he’s free, he’s ‘fine’, and the enemy was long ago defeated in the background of the scene. That’s what it means to be PRO - HERO      an example to send pride to, Aizawa Shouta.

“  Are you alright, Eraser Head ?! ” Of course that boy would never question own matter, but rather others’. The gunshot was the least important for the considerable personality of his - now highest property was to make sure that the rescue will turn successful, that both Aizawa and Eri would exit this disastrous hideout in full piece. 

There was no time for a talk, right       they HAD to go. 

Without further wait, the student followed his teacher’s steps      running, RUNNING, just to be there in time for the OTHERS. That’s all that appeared in mind - Eri, Mirio, Kirishima .. they were all possibly fighting there, and they had to HURRY !! … His pace began failing him, Eraser Head was far ahead - and even when it seemed like he used his best speed, the distance between grew bigger and bigger. Full cowling     no, he couldn’t use his quirk, he can’t use it, it’s all g o n e .

                        He failed All Might, he failed everyone .                                  The promise he kept for Eri - chan …                                  ‘ I will definitely .. never let go . ’            What kind of a hero can he be … if he can’t save a single child …

         “ Aizawa .. sensei … ”

Smoke of darkness began spreading across the scenery before him,                adding layers and layers over it, stealing the sight of life away  …

                            Waterfalls leaked from desperate eyes,                                 grasping strongly on the last spot of color that managed to yet remain.

                                     “ … I’m sorry . ”

                                                                        thud.

           aizawa. . . sensei. . . .   I’M SORRY.  

no.  no, no, no.  not like this.  NOT LIKE THIS.  shōta stands over the bed, beginning to tremble.  deku lies face first on the ground, unmoving.  he’s breathing, but it’s weak.  midoriya is hurt this badly because he came to save YOU, aizawa.  this is YOUR FAULT.  if you had been stronger  --  you wouldn’t even be in this mess right now.  the teacher remains frozen, standing there, breathing harshly.  he’s not strong enough.  

                                                                                    nothing’s changed. 

aizawa sits on the curb when they’re far away from that place. . .  an ambulance has come, taking deku to the hospital.  they insist that he goes, too, but he’s fine.  he’s fine.  it’s as if nothing ever happened to him with the way overhaul’s quirk rebuilt him every single time.  over and over and over again.  only to look as though NOTHING’S WRONG.  he can’t breathe when he looks at deku’s lifeless body.  ( your fault. ) 

                                                                                    it’s bad.  really bad.

he won’t move.  midoriya just lies there, motionless in his coma.  “wake up,”  shōta whispers under his breath.  it’s been twenty-four hours.  it’s not looking good.  nezu comes to visit with all might himself, and they both are grim.  they whisper to each other, and shōta can’t hear them so he -- “WHAT?”  he asks loudly, eyes widened.  a small sign of his trauma, of the anger he suddenly cannot control.  “what is it?”  

MIDORIYA IZUKU IS ALL MIGHT’S SUCCESSOR.

shōta reels from the news.  everything makes sense now.  no wonder why midoriya was struggling to get a handle of his quirk.  he recalls their first lessons.  all this time, he was trying to learn how to use a powerful quirk.  they put this burden on a CHILD.  couldn’t there have been anyone else?  all of the suffering midoriya went through, all that pain --

but. . . it is you, ERASERHEAD, who put him in the coma.  he can’t sleep.  he hardly eats.  he can’t go back to normal, because it’s not normal.  “wake up,”  he begs, heart pounding in his chest as he looks upon his second greatest failure.  he can’t sleep.  it’s been a week now, and sometimes in the bed it’s just oboro with a dented head  --  “wake up,” he says quietly, lowly, over and over again.  shōta feels the tears bubbling, feels the great shame and fear building up inside him.  “please.  please, izuku.”  he bows his head forward.  this is his fault.  how can he ever repay him?  

@goldgoggles​ / s.c

   And everything had happened so quickly — the attack could have hardly lasted seconds, stopped as suddenly as it had began, but as he slumped against the side of the building, head throbbing from the way he’d been jostled by the villain attempting to jump him, seconds felt like long moments, brow furrowing as he tried to catch a glimpse of the figure that stood between him and his attacker.    In the encroaching darkness of night, it’s difficult to recognize the figure outside of a vague silhouette, and so the civilian doesn’t make an effort at all, hand trailing through floating locks as he sags further against brick, the surface digging into shoulders with nearly enough pressure to focus the haze of an oncoming migraine elsewhere.    Still, he observes the quick take-down, smile tentative and tone trembling from the rush of adrenaline yet to leave his system, as he acknowledges the person before him (so clearly a hero; if only he could determine which one).

   “—— wow,” a shaky exhale, as he pulls himself upright, shoulder aching, form dotted with shallow nicks and bruises — surface injuries (he’s had worse), “you took that guy out in no-time! Just what I’d expect from a pro, hah —”

JUST ANOTHER NIGHT OF THE SAME THING. . .  the villains are getting worse.  there are more burglaries, robberies, murder, death -- you name it, there’s more of it than there was a few years ago.  god, he’s tired.  there’s no rest. 

not to mention his eyes are worse.  he’s supposed to be BETTER than he was as a kid, and yet he finds himself struggling to keep up.  how can he protect his students, if -- -- 

the fleeting thought passes when he sees a civilian being attacked.  it’s EASY to take down this low-level guy.  in no time, pro-hero eraserhead has the attacker subdued.  aizawa keeps a tight hold on his capture tool before standing from his crouched position.  he hears the civilian talk, and that voice sounds  --  no, he hardly remembers it now.  still, it sounds like -- !!