#keshimasu

As a Pro Hero, he'd of course expected the man to be a strong fighter, but... even Kurogiri had been surprised by just how much of a threat he really turned out to be. More than anything, his persistence and tenacity are what made him so dangerous, Kurogiri thinks - traits he has to commend him for, if nothing else.

But of course, in the end, Eraserhead is only one man. Even if he'd lasted a long time in a fight where he'd normally be at a disadvantage, no man is incapable of being hurt - especially one without a quirk naturally suited for combat. His vulnerability to overwhelming strength had almost killed him back then, and for a while Kurogiri wasn't sure if he'd survived the attack on USJ at all...

But perhaps it'd be better if he'd died at that time, Kurogiri thinks now, as he spots the hero approaching from an alley nearby. The more sensible choice would be to warp away before he's seen, and yet... in that moment - something seems to compel Kurogiri to stay, as if there's an anchor preventing his escape, weighing him down. If he were to think about it for longer, perhaps he'd find that strange. It was strange, too, when he'd first learned of Eraserhead's survival after his gory injuries at USJ, and he'd felt something like a distant kind of relief... a lingering phantom feeling with no obvious explanation.

Kurogiri didn't let it concern him at the time. After all, in some ways, it would be a shame to see such a valuable quirk go to waste. Yet maybe that attitude was a mistake... because now, he's reaping the consequences of not having killed him back then - and Kurogiri isn't sure that he can take him in a fight and win with certainty.

"Eraserhead. What an unexpected surprise." Though the words are seemingly polite, the undisguised malice in Kurogiri's tone is anything but. "It's been some time since our last meeting, hasn't it?"

the larger pro hero had simply been minding his own business, but he's quickly snapped back to reality when he feels a sudden weight leaning into him from behind. all too quickly, head turns with a confused glance over his shoulder, only to reveal a familiar head of shaggy raven hair resting upon his larger mass. "hey eraser, comfy down there? y'know, i'd let you stay there, but i'm not exactly as comfortable as that sleeping bag of yours, at least i don't think so..."

crossing the threshold in a dramatic light just isn't in the cards tonight, it seems, as the door hardly makes an opening or a closing sound. and he flops onto the stool with nothing but the soft thud, a swish of hair, and the rattling of all his metal accessories and buckles in movement and impact. mic gives a quiet huff and leans his chin onto a propped up arm, playing absentmindedly with the wood of the long bar table.

" hit me with the same old, (bdown)? i'll tip ya reeeal well if you put an ounce or two extra in there, too. (today fucking sucked.) "

    hiroto knew better than this.  his parents had always told him to remain quiet and not cause a scene.  but recently, he hadn’t quite felt like listening to them.  it was a terrible decision really, deciding to open up a small rain cloud above one of his teacher.  only a few droplets fell out of the cloud before he was caught, small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. 

Izuku, admittedly, probably should have known that his teacher wouldn’t have let him get away with this. Still, in his defence, Izuku had figured that Aizawa-sensei would still be recovering from the fight.

Of course, Izuku really should have known better. It had only been a few days since his departure from UA and he’d started acting as a vigilante; and of course, he’d been discovered by possibly the scariest person. Scarier than Shigaraki when angered.

And that person? Was his homeroom teacher, groaning a little to himself as he noticed the familiar figure rapidly closing in. Izuku didn’t think he even had time to run.

“don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t exactly blend in.”