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It had been raining the day that Oboro died.
It was a cold rain. The kind that seeps through one’s clothes and permeates into their very being.
He hadn’t been able to shake that cold from his bones for days. Sometimes, that familiar cold returns. Sometimes, he wakes up to a heaviness in his bone marrow and has to puppeteer his unwilling body through another day.
He hated that rain.
It’s sunny today. Somehow, it’s worse. His shirt is fused to his back from sweat. His scalp is practically boiling.
The callouses on his hands are ripping away with every piece of rubble he claws away.
With every beat of his racing heartbeat, he’s carefully adjusting debris, looking for any structural instability.
Shouta isn’t an easily frightened person. He’s stared death in the eye on numerous occasions. He’s been bruised and battered more times than he cares to remember.
Oboro’s death had split something deep inside of him. It had created a divide like no other. Like a gaping wound, it had healed slowly. At first, he hadn’t expected it to heal at all.
Through the years, it’s slowly stabilized into something not as raw. It’s still there, and he doubts he’ll ever be the same man he used to be, but it’s smaller.
No matter the outcome of this situation, Shouta knows that the divide has been ripped open once more.
With every desperate movement, all he can do is pray that his children’s pictures won’t join Oboro’s.
-
It was supposed to be a simple shopping trip in town. Eri had been the one to propose it.
With her shaking voice and the underlying fear in her eyes, Shouta couldn’t refuse such a simple request.
With the weather finally warming up, she wanted to look at some dresses to expand her wardrobe.
Toogata and Midoriya had happily agreed to accompany her.
It was supposed to be a nice day out for the three of them.
Shouta would have checked in through text often, just to make sure they were alright. He would hide his worry behind question marks, and ignore his building paranoia as Midoriya would slowly type back a response to him.
He can’t blame the kid for his reduced fine motor control, but he can blame himself for failing to help the kid with his quirk sooner.
An incident had occurred at Nighteye’s agency. From what he’s heard, it was nothing extreme, but something that required Toogata’s immediate attention. Toogata had been distraught at the realization that he couldn’t make it to the trip.
Shouta, ever the bleeding heart, had assured the man and agreed to accompany the two.
Even though the shopping center is loud with the sounds of chatter, squeaking of footsteps, and the whir of fans, Eri seems to be having a great time.
Shouta had lagged behind for just a moment. Someone from his agency had called to ask about some of the updated procedures in regards to an influx of paperwork.
He had only been a few meters behind Midoriya and Eri. They were well-within his sight, and had been the whole time.
The two children had paused for a moment, with Midoriya kneeling in front of Eri, talking to her with a bright smile on his face.
Then the wall exploded, and everything went to hell.
-
It’s dark. It’s humid. It hurts.
Eri is quiet, but he knows that she’s alive. She’s okay.
His muscles, still strained from yesterday’s training session with Ectoplasm and Cementoss, are trembling at the weight of the debris settled on him.
His posture isn’t helping either.
Izuku’s left shin is against the ground. Chunks and broken off corners of concrete are digging straight into his skin. His right leg is bent awkwardly, wavering but somehow holding strong.
It’s his back and shoulders that feel it the most.
Bones protest. Muscles quiver. Skin rips and tears beneath the weight and harsh texture of concrete.
He’s scared to breathe too hard.
Something shifts above him. Much to the ire of his body, he adjusts his grip and bends forward the slightest bit more. It makes his core begin to burn.
Even if Izuku dies here, he cannot let Eri get hurt.
He has to protect Eri.
He has to.
-
There’s no sign of them yet.
The entire area has been cordoned off with yellow tape. Law enforcement stands guard, turning away any and all civilians and journalists.
Every time the rubble shifts, Shouta can’t help but flinch.
The only two people that are unaccounted for are Midoriya Izuku and Aizawa Eri.
Four other heroes have already arrived at the scene, bringing the total to six.
Kamui Woods.
Rock Lock.
He doesn’t recognize the other two by appearances, and he doesn’t bother to learn their names.
“Found a gap!” Kamui Woods shouts. Shouta is immediately running over to where Kamui Woods is using his quirk to map out the mound of debris.
“It’s maybe two meters in, straight ahead. Big enough for them to be in. It’s unstable. Really unstable,” Kamui Woods adds, nodding towards the exact region.
“I’ll make a path, you go in?” Kamui Woods offers. Shouta’s thankful for the initiative.
“Sounds good,” Shouta agrees, his voice rough and almost cracking.
Kamui Woods hesitates for a moment, mulling over what he can say. He remains silent as he begins carefully moving rubble out of the way with his branches.
Shouta walks forward.
-
There’s a warm liquid rolling down his back. Izuku thinks it’s blood.
Sweat drips from his face.
The debris is shifting once more, this time with more purpose.
Izuku adjusts his grip and stance once more, desperate to keep the concrete from crushing the two of them.
The debris in front of him shifts a bit.
The light that spills in is a welcome sight.
“Midoriya?” Aizawa-sensei’s voice rings out. It’s as weak as it is strong. It’s as hopeful as it is scared.
Izuku’s tongue and lips don’t want to cooperate with the words he wants to say.
He wants to call out that they’re safe, that they’re okay.
He wants to reassure his teacher that Eri is totally fine, and that he’s managed to mitigate any and all damage to himself.
All he can manage to utter is a sound between a groan, grunt, and wheeze.
“It’s okay, kid, we’re here. We’re going to move this chunk, okay? You’re in a very unstable portion right now, so we can’t go too quickly.”
Despite the fear and worry dripping from Aizawa-sensei’s voice, it’s soothing.
Izuku thinks he makes a sound of agreement in response.
-
It’s a haunting sight.
Midoriya Izuku holds a massive section of concrete above him. His arms are trembling. Blood drips onto the ground beneath him in increments.
Eri is on the ground directly beneath him, arms wrapped around herself in a self-soothing manner.
It’s hot. It’s dark. It’s practically a coffin.
“Grab Eri,” Midoriya chokes out, his voice little more than a whisper.
It shocks Shouta into functioning again.
“Okay,” Shouta says, his voice gentle.
“I am going to grab Eri right now. Kamui Woods is here. He’s going to stabilize that rubble above you, and I’ll get you out. I will not leave you. Okay?”
“Yeah,” Midoriya manages to say. His gaze is focused on the ground. His face is reddened
Shouta carefully pulls Eri into his grasp, holding her close to his chest.
“I’ll be back for you. I promise.”
-
The vestiges of One for All are always watching. It’s all they do now.
They watch Nine move with the desperation of a damned soldier in horrified silence.
Five flinches at every minor movement of the rubble.
Seven’s hands are clasped in front of her mouth.
One watches with tightened fists.
They will not perish in such a way.
Not now.
Not ever.
-
Shouta doesn’t like hospitals. They’re too loud to be a somber environment, and too quiet to be a hopeful place.
His student is sitting up in a bed, wringing his hands in his lap.
“Eri. She’s, uh, she’s fine, right?” Midoriya asks, his voice quiet yet sharp.
“She is,” Shouta replies, leaving it at that.
Silence hangs in the air for a minute too long. Midoriya cracks first, leaning forward and hunching in on himself.
“I, uh. I’m sorry for… scaring you like that. I just… I had to protect her. My body just moved, and I didn’t see the pillar-”
Midoriya’s blood falling to the tiled floor in droplets.
Oboro’s blood splattered across the asphalt.
“Midoriya. It’s okay.”
Oboro isn’t okay, but...
Midoriya isn’t Oboro.
Not today.
Not ever.