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As the sun dipped below the treeline it painted the now evening sky in tones of soft orange that blended into an earthy purple. It spread out, seeping into the edges of the periphery of Shouta’s vision, meeting the dark brown of the darkening sky.
“You’ve been so quiet this evening,” her voice rang out next to him.
“I’m always quiet,” Shouta grumbled as he watched her walk over to the roof ledge and sit, her long legs dangling over the edge.
“This rooftop always had the best view, even when we were kids,” Nemuri said as she stared out into the picturesque scene in front of her.
“I always assumed that’s why we hung out there. How we ran into you so much our first year.”
“Yes… you three found my private spot,” she said, her voice ringing with good humor. Shouta didn’t have to see her face to know she was smiling. “I didn’t mind sharing though. Then you became ‘my boys.’ And the rest is history.”
Shouta sighed and Nemuri turned her head toward him so she could see him. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her brow furrowed with concern, her bottom lip pouting slightly.
“I don’t like you sitting on the edge of the roof like that,” Shouta said, his tone somehow more grouchy than it was before.
“Oh?” she mused as she scooted further away from him on the lip of the roof ledge, her thighs dipping out of sight.
“Stop, you’ll kill yourself trying to be funny. It’s not like you have an audience to put on such a ridiculous show.” He kept the worry out of his voice. If she did fall he could catch her with his binding cloth.
Still sitting on the very edge, Nemuri leaned her upper body forward, chest puffed out. Shouta would have found the pose provocative if he didn’t want to strangle her for being reckless.
“Would you catch me, Shouta? If I fell? Would you save me?” she asked coyly and then grinned, her glossy, red-tinted lips glistening with a flash of orange, reflecting the setting sun.
He stared at her, unimpressed, not giving her the rise she wanted. Of course he would save her.
Shouta would do anything in his power to save her.
Nemuri pouted after several seconds and scooted a safer distance away from the edge. “You’re no fun,” she crooned. “And I don’t need an audience to perform. You of all people should know that.” She smiled at him, the barb of the statement giving an edge to her expression. Her eyes glistened with mischief, orange light from the sun clashing with the light blue of her irises.
“I’m worried about Hizashi,” Shouta said bluntly to change the subject hoping Nemuri didn’t see him nervously swallow.
Nemuri pivoted away from the sunset to face Shouta, bending her knees and side-sitting as she talked to him. “He does seem to be having a hard time. But Hizashi’s resilient. He’ll be fine. He’s always handled things better than you. You just bury it. At least he tries to deal with it head-on.”
Shouta couldn’t help but smile at her. A smirk that felt so strange on his face because it had been a while since he had worn it.
“Ugh, you’re so annoying,” Nemuri said as she took in his expression. “You think it’s funny? Bottling it all up and never addressing all the trauma that hangs on you heavily like those binding cloths?”
“We’re not talking about me,” Shouta said as he looked away from Nemuri back at the sunset that was slowly beginning to fade into the dark of night. “We’re talking about Hiz-”
“Hizashi meets with Dr. Sasaki weekly,” Nemuri interrupted. “Especially after what happened months ago. Yet you waive the mandatory psych evaluations since you’re considered administration-”
“I’m fine,” Shouta said cutting her off. And he wasn’t smirking anymore.
“You’re not fine, Shouta.” Her voice wavered, her words a barely spoken whisper.
“None of this matters anyway,” Shouta said in his dull, usual monotone.
“Why would you say that?” Her words were less tremulous than they were before.
A cool gust of wind buffeted against Shouta’s body and he reflexively held his breath as it swirled back around him and continued on its way.
“Because you’re not really here.” Shouta glanced at the spot where Nemuri had been sitting. It was bare. Empty. Shouta was alone on the roof.
“You’ve been dead for five months,” Shouta muttered and headed toward the stairway door.
“You know, just because it’s Sunday doesn’t mean you should sleep the whole day away.”
Shouta slowly opened his eyes and then immediately regretted it, wanting to close them again. His body ached, specifically his shoulders, his hips, and his stump. He couldn’t help but wince as he slowly rolled on his back, taking his time in case Sushi was curled up there next to him.
He blinked several times, taking in the light of his room, and realizing it was after noon. The familiar weight of Sushi alighting on his chest further awakened him. He stroked the cat’s back and felt Sushi’s cold nose on his face.
After about a minute, Shouta slowly sat up, Sushi scampering down and Nemuri was staring at him from the foot of his bed. Her hair was in a high pony tail, cascading out in dark violet waves. Her hands were on her hips, oversized sweatshirt slipping off her shoulder, dark leggings hugging her figure, and a disapproving scowl furrowed her brow.
“Come on, Shouta.”
“Fine,” he mumbled as he pivoted his legs off the bed and reached for his prosthetic.
As he walked into the kitchen the smell of coffee made a pleasant surge run up his spine. As he sipped from his mug, leaning against the countertop, he watched Nemuri and Sushi. Nemuri was sitting on the counter next to him, Sushi rubbing up against her and loudly purring. A broad smile blossomed on her face as she hummed with satisfaction, lightly scratching behind Sushi’s ears as he forcefully leaned in her palm almost falling off the counter.
He and Nemuri talked while he had his breakfast which consisted of just the coffee and heavy cream.
“Okay, quit procrastinating. Get to work,” Nemuri said to him in a stern tone.
“You’re the one talking to me,” Shouta mumbled.
“And now I’m going to stop.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he said in his usual monotone.
“Well watch me then,” Nemuri said and then gave him one of her mischievous grins. Nemuri scooped up Sushi and sat on the couch nearby.
Tomorrow would be the first day for him and his students to return back to UA since the war ended. He had been on campus the whole previous week taking care of administrative duties in preparation for their return.
He walked around the counter and sat at the bar where his laptop was. He opened it up and started going over lesson plans and other documents that needed his attention. After a few minutes, Shouta glanced at Nemuri. She had fallen asleep curled up in a ball, Sushi nestled against her chest.
Shouta smiled and finished his lesson plans.
Shouta was pleased Hitoshi was adjusting well to being in Class 2A. Their first day back at UA had been a lot for the students. New changes to the curriculum. New challenges for them to face. Some of his students had physical injuries they would have to nurse as they continued to train. Some of them, emotional trauma they would have to work through as well.
“Thank you, sensei,” Hitoshi said as he left homeroom. He had a few questions after last hour for Shouta about the hero course and Shouta answered them, pleased Hitoshi was taking things very seriously and was eager to prove himself. The class had welcomed him with much enthusiasm.
He stood at the lectern, signing things off on his tablet when he heard the too-familiar sound of heeled boots clicking on the laminate flooring.
“It’s been a very busy day,” her voice rang through the empty classroom.
“It’s always busy,” he said as he walked out of the classroom barely glancing at her, her hero costume looking crisp and pristine, the sheen of her purple glasses reflecting the classroom lights above them. He wasn’t surprised when she followed him to the administration building.
And he wasn’t surprised when she was there the next day. And the next.
And when Shouta was caught outside the teacher’s lounge by Dr. Sasaki, UA’s Head Counselor and psychiatrist, Nemuri was standing right behind her.
“Aizawa. You missed our appointment yesterday,” Dr. Sasaki said.
Shouta glanced past her at Nemuri briefly who narrowed her eyes at him. He then focused back on the doctor.
“My apologies, it’s very busy at the beginning of the school year. I have more administrative duties so sometimes things slip my mind.” He began to walk away but Dr. Sasaki followed him.
“Could we reschedule, please? I can even meet on Sunday if that works better for-”
“I’ll get back to you about that,” he said cutting her off and contined down the hall.
He heard the doctor sigh as he turned the corner.
Instead of the doctor, Nemuri was walking next to Shouta and he sped up his walking speed although he thought that was silly. It’s not like one could out walk or even out run a ghost.
“Weren’t you getting on to Bakugou earlier threatening a three-day suspension if he missed his therapy appointment with Dr. Sasaki? So you’re a hypocrite now.”
“I’m not a hypocrite,” he said loud and annoyed. He looked up in time to catch Kan coming into the hallway from a side room. He eyed Shouta suspiciously.
He sighed ignoring him and continued down the hall.
“Better be careful, people will think you’ve lost your mind talking to yourself.”
“People already think I’ve lost my mind,” he whispered under his breath.
Nemuri sighed with irritation next to him. He swore he could feel her walking right next to him. Feel the heat of her body, the breath of her sigh. But that was an impossibility. “If you don’t reschedule with the doctor you will be a hypocrite.”
“I’m not a hypocrite. I’m a lost cause.” There was still hope for Bakugou, Shouta thought to himself as he walked through the double doors into the afternoon sun. But that time for him had passed. Nemuri didn’t follow him.
Shouta was spending his rare day off at Musutafu Precinct Headquarters. Detective Tsukauchi had reached out to him for some help on a cold case.
“This reminds me of that unsolved case in Narahata,” Shouta said as he went through the case file.
“My thoughts exactly. I thought since we worked on that one until we hit a dead end, maybe we can look at both of them side-by-side, see if anything stands out.” Tsukauchi turned back toward the computer and went to the archives website to bring up the old case.
“My, my, an inhuman amount of stress and lack of sleep look good on our favorite detective.” Nemuri gave Tsukauchi a predatory grin. She was sitting practically on top of Tsukauchi’s keyboard on top of his desk, her legs crossed, her back arched, giving her a stately posture to go with her ‘come-hither’ stare.
Shouta could only look up at her with an unimpressed expression while he waited for Tsukauchi to bring up the files.
“The ruffled hair, the more angular face, the stubble. See Shouta, this is how to rock the stubble. I can see why Yagi runs after him like a little puppy.”
Shouta had to bite his lip to keep from saying, ‘Behave.’
“You feel that cold draft?” Tsukauchi asked not looking up from his monitor and keyboard.
“It feels fine to me,” Shouta replied and then he looked up at Nemuri and raised an amused eyebrow.
“Fine. I can take a hint,” she said as she slid off the desk. “I’ll go check out the precinct showers.” As she walked away she gave him one of her shameless grins and winked at him.
Shouta buried his head in his hands.
Shouta never understood how she could make him feel so good. No one else could ever make his whole body shudder with a single touch of their fingertip. To make him come so hard he felt like he was dying and every time he was surprised when he caught his breath and came back from that silent, secret place. That place where he and Nemuri were briefly together in the dark. Breathless. Weightless. He couldn’t see her or even feel her but in those seconds where his whole body thrummed with pleasure, she was with him. It was like she was inside him somehow, living in his skin.
Maybe that was why this whole situation somehow seemed appropriate. Pitch black, the room darkening shades blocked any light and he had kicked Sushi out. When he was this exhausted, he had to force himself to get a good night’s sleep. Luckily Sushi didn’t mind it, as long as Shouta was out of his room to feed him by 8 am. But he couldn’t kick Nemuri out.
In the pitch black now it was easier to forget the truth. It was effortless to touch himself and think it was Nemuri’s hand on him. His breath hitched as pleasure blossomed up sharply from the pit of his stomach. Shouta held his breath, letting his mind, his body, sink into the feeling.
“Come for me, baby,” Nemuri breathed in his ear and it pushed him over the edge as he climaxed. It felt like a little death, a part of him burning up so quickly, a pull at his body and then it released him as he came down from the high.
Shouta was past the shame of it. He didn’t care anymore. He was tired of feeling like shit. His mind and his body sought out these small bits of respite.
Then he tried to imagine the weight of Nemuri resting against him, the cadence of her breathing as she slept, her smell, her presence as he drifted off to sleep.
Shouta had been spending too much in his own head, in his own world with Nemuri, that it took him a while to notice the drastic change in Hizashi. Nemuri would bring it up from time to time and when that happened, it was easy for Shouta to shrug it off like it wasn’t too big of a deal. It had only been a few months since the war ended and everyone, hero and civilian alike, were still coping with the fallout.
But as he saw specific facets of Hizashi change it became harder for even him to rationalize it as normal behavior. And then he felt like a giant asshole he had been trying to convince himself it wasn’t a big deal.
Hizashi had stopped dragging him out to places. Shouta no longer caught him in the halls like Hizashi was keeping to himself as much as possible. He no longer heard Hizashi’s bellowing throughout the day since he could never be anything but unbelievably loud when he spoke. The few times he had seen him across the sea of students in the cafeteria, Hizashi immediately avoided the sudden eye contact and before Shouta could catch up with him, he was gone.
And then Shouta found out Hizashi was no longer doing his radio show in the evenings. And he had also stopped all Pro-Hero work. Shouta had found out when he spoke to Detective Tsukauchi one afternoon down at the precinct.
“You need to talk to Mic,” Nemuri said one evening after dinner at the apartment. “He’s fading, Shouta.”
He looked over at her and her delicate brows were furrowed with concern.
“I thought you said Hizashi was resilient,” Shouta said, trying to make the statement come out in a teasing manner, but it just fell flat. Because she was right.
“Well, I was wrong. He needs you.”
Shouta knew Hizashi, his best friend since their first year at UA, needed his help. But how could Shouta help him when he couldn’t even help himself?
“He just needs his space, he’ll get over it in time.” Maybe saying the words would make them come true Shouta thought to himself. So much of his existence was make-believe at this point, maybe impossible wishes would be granted and Hizashi would magically get better.
They were both lying on their sides, gazing at each other, Shouta on the edge of falling asleep. Nemuri was telling him about a conversation she had overheard between Snipe and Hound Dog.
The full moon’s light illuminated the bedroom so he could make Nemuri out in the darkness, her features expressive as she told her tale of a secret faculty rendezvous she was now privy to. He normally would pull the room darkening shades so the bedroom would be enveloped in complete darkness, but when he was with Nemuri like this he didn’t need that additional help to fall asleep.
Nemuri had moved in and out of his apartment so many times over the years, he couldn’t keep count. Shouta knew he was impossible to live with but Nemuri had tried countless times. The first time they had moved in together was right after he had graduated UA and that had lasted 5 days. He had pissed her off one too many times and rightfully so, he had been a huge ass at the time.
The last time they had tried to make it work it had lasted… well she had not moved out actually. She had started spending the night over at his place for the umpteenth time while Class A had been on Nabu Island.
A few weeks later, the Pro-heroes had battled the Meta Liberation Army. And everything in his life had changed after that battle.
Her things were still around his apartment. He refused to touch them, to move them. He refused to accept she was really gone.
And maybe because of that, she had stayed.
Nemuri stopped speaking and stared at him quietly for several moments. “A yen for your thoughts, my love?” Her expression stayed serious; Shouta knew she was worried about him.
“Just thinking about how beautiful you look.”
She grinned her Cheshire cat grin. “You’re such a terrible liar.”
Shouta gave her a small smile.
Nemuri leaned in and kissed his forehead. Shouta swore he could feel it. Then he closed his eyes and a deep, dreamless sleep took him.
After a faculty meeting, Shouta found himself one of the last people in the large conference room along with Dr. Sasaki. She had quit running after him, finally getting the message he was a lost cause and he wasn’t going to be coming in to see her.
Class 2A was doing well, however. Many of them had turned corners with their mental health, Dr. Sasaki had decreased her sessions with most of them due to their improvement. Group therapy had worked out well for some, and of course one-on-one with the students who needed it would continue. Every student had improved since the war.
Shouta exchanged niceties with her as they left the room.
Suddenly she said something that didn’t surprise him although he was taken aback a little. “My biggest regret was how I handled your care 16 years ago. I should have done things differently.”
He was surprised she brought it up in the present setting they found themselves in. They were alone though and it wasn’t like Shouta was seeing her in private like he was supposed to.
“I’m sorry to be a thorn in your side after all these years.”
“Don’t apologize. I was very young back when you were a teenager. I had only been out of school for two years. I have learned a lot since then. Partly because of you since you were impossible to reach after the trauma you endured your third year. I could never scale that wall of yours you foisted up. But I should thank you. I don’t think I would have been able to help a few of the hero course students this year as adequately as they needed without those experiences.”
Shouta thought about Todoroki, Midoriya, Uraraka, and Bakugou. They were all doing well, and would continue to thrive as they moved further away from the war.
“Well…I’m glad something good came from that time.” He knew one of the reasons Nemuri was consuming his thoughts, keeping him sane, was because the Kurogiri/Shirakumo reveal had opened up those wounds from high school when Oboro had died. Of course, it hadn’t opened those wounds back up, bad wording Shouta thought to himself, because those wounds had never healed.
As they made it to the door and walked into the hallway, Dr. Sasaki turned to him. “You know what I am going to say to you,” she said and gave him a sad smile.
Shouta nodded. “I know where your office is Dr. Sasaki. But I won’t be darkening its doorway.”
“I hope you have a good afternoon,” she said as she walked down the hall.
He saw Nemuri waiting for him down the hall. It would be a fair afternoon at least with Nemuri in his presence. “You, too, Doctor.”
I’ll get the bastard on the next rooftop Shouta thought to himself as his body nimbly cut through the air, retracting his binding cloth and sending it back out to the top railing of the emergency stairs.
He shot himself forward and upward and a second later his feet hit the rooftop and he took off running after the perpetrator. Skilled fingers gathered the end of the cloth and he sent it toward his quarry’s ankle. It wrapped around the bottom of his leg and he tripped forward, landing on the surface of the rooftop in a heap.
Shouta walked toward the man he had been chasing, looping his cloth in his hand so he could bound his wrists and then bring him into custody.
“I thought you fuckin’ retired,” the young man said, breathing heavily, his voice laced with fear and loathing.
“Heroes never really retire. You’d do well to remember that.”
As he gathered the perpetrator’s wrists with the binding cloth and pulled it to secure him, he stood up and surveyed the area quickly before he took the young man in to authorities.
“Shouta!” Nemuri’s voice cut through the thick, summer night air and he reflexively turned toward it just in time to see a metal object coming at his face. He deftly evaded the attack by near inches. Another criminal, most likely a colleague of the bound man at Shouta’s feet. He was huge, his body bulky with muscle, and he was holding a crowbar in his massive hands.
A minute later Shouta subdued the man, knocking him out through hand-to-hand combat. He was sore, sweaty, and out of breath. Shouta was just a little rusty, he told himself. He called for back up and they arrived and took the law-breakers in.
He walked back to his apartment. He didn’t hear Nemuri’s footsteps behind him, but he felt her near, like the way you can feel the static in the air before a thunderstorm. Shouta knew when he walked through his front door, she would be sitting on his couch.
By the time he made it to his apartment, his breathing was still labored. It was like he couldn’t get his heart rate to go back down. As soon as he opened the door, he saw Nemuri sitting on the couch. She stood up quickly, her face pained with worry.
“Why did you go after him? You were just walking home from UA, you shouldn’t have jumped in.”
“That man attacked a woman. I couldn’t let him get away.”
“And his friend that followed you? That would have killed you if not for my warning-”
“That wasn’t anywhere near a fatal blow, Nem-”
“He had a crowbar and he would have split your head in two with it!” Tears were streaming down her face. “Your vision is impaired now… it’s harder for you to take in your surroundings because of it. You have limitations you can’t just ignore.”
His heart kept racing, galloping in his chest painfully now and he dropped to his knees. He suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe, like his clothing and cloths were constricting him.
“Shouta.”
Nemuri was kneeling next to him. He felt her hand on his back, but he shouldn’t have.
“Breathe, Shouta…you’re holding your breath, my love…”
Her voice was calm now. Shouta could feel her warmth, smell her scent, sweet and floral.
He closed his eyes and tried his best to take control back from his shocked body.
“Shouta.”
He felt the cool, soft touch of her delicate fingers on his face.
He opened his eyes again and saw the calmest color of blue he had ever known. Like tranquil waves on the surface of the calmest sea. The movement subtle yet hypnotic. He felt hot tears stream down his face.
He melted into her touch, into her presence, into everything that was her.
“Let me take care of you, Shou,” she whispered. “Please…” Her voice was soft even though it was pleading with him, knowing his stubbornness more than anyone else.
“Okay,” he said as he slowly stood up.
He walked to his bedroom, Nemuri by his side.
Shouta climbed up on his bed and she lay down next to him and then her arms were around him. He could almost feel it, the slightest tingle on his skin, a numbness that was still welcoming and comforting.
He closed his eyes, willing Nemuri’s body to have weight, that he could feel her.
“You saved me,” he whispered.
“I won’t always be here to save you,” she said back to him softly, like she was scolding him but it was too light to feel like a reprimand. It was like she was preparing him for something he wasn’t ready for.
“You won’t?”
“Yes. I won’t. Shouta… I shouldn’t even be here.”
He wanted to say he needed her. He could get by, maybe just barely, but he could get by with her by his side. But he knew saying the words were dangerous. It would give life to those thoughts and he didn’t need to hear them out loud, hear them taking shape. If he didn’t hear them it would be easier to live in this half-life.
This moment, all these moments brought him comfort even though it was hollow and fleeting.
Shouta became more withdrawn. He interacted as little as possible with other faculty. He no longer helped Detective Tsukauchi, he didn’t go to any school functions unless Principal Nedzu asked him to be there in an administrative capacity.
He spent more and more time in his apartment and that meant more one-on-one time with Nemuri. He craved every moment she would appear in his sight. He imagined touches that weren’t really there. Conversations that only happened in his imagination. Or maybe she was really a ghost, maybe it wasn’t as one-sided as he thought. But he chose not to think about the hows. He knew the whys and that was bad enough.
He chased away his logic that told him this was dangerous for him.
Nemuri urged him daily to see Dr. Sasaki and he would ignore her pleas. He didn’t need the doctor as long as he had her.
The Hero Course faculty meeting was almost drawing to a close. Shouta had not been happy due to a few Hero Public Safety Commission Representatives who had sat in on the meeting. He wondered why they were there and as the last point on the agenda was covered, one of the representatives asked to speak.
Principal Nedzu nodded and the representative continued. “We wanted to discuss one of the hero course students, Katsuki Bakugou.”
Shouta immediately bristled.
“As I am sure you all are aware of,” the representative continued, “Bakugou is refusing the suggested care of his physicians-”
“Now wait a minute,” Shouta interrupted standing up, his anger rising inside him. “Why are you even talking about this? This is illegal. Patient privi-”
“His parents sent his medical records to our physicians, Eraserhead. They are concerned he isn’t making the best choices in regard to his own health-”
“How dare you come here and try to undermine-” Shouta’s heartbeat was blaring in his ears.
“We are just acting on behalf of Masaru and Mitsuki Bakugou-” the representative interrupted.
“Young Bakugou is still working with physical therapists!” Yagi said. He stood up from where he had been sitting across from Shouta at the large conference table. Shouta’s anger was reflected in his gaunt face. “His rehabilitation-”
“Is at a standstill,” the representative interrupted again. “It’s a lost cause! Amputation is the best course of action-”
“I see him daily. He is getting movement and range of motion back slowly but surely. He just needs more time-” Shouta said, trying to keep himself from yelling.
“It’s been several months and he has barely improved from his prognosis when he was released from the hospital! His right arm is useless.” The representative addressed Nedzu, seemingly done with Shouta and Yagi. “Principal, Bakugou’s physical health is very important to all of Japan. He will be one of the top heroes in the future. He is only hurting his potential with his stubbornness, refusing what is best for him. We have a power point presentation that will showcase the most state-of-the-art prosthesis, one that mimics Bakugou’s quirk: Explosion-”
They had gone too far. “Get out,” Shouta said as he lurched toward the representative and slapped his open laptop off the table.
“Shouta, please calm down.” He could hear Nemuri’s voice cut through the murmuring and raised voices erupting around him. Yagi along with Recovery Girl and Snipe were livid with the representatives and voiced their displeasure.
“Get the hell outta here!” Shouta bellowed. His heart galloped in his chest faster and faster and he couldn’t stop it. It only fueled his anger, how dare these vultures come and try to pick apart one of his students?
“Aizawa.”
“Everyone calm down.”
“Shouta… deep breaths, love. Please calm down.”
Shouta clutched his chest, no longer able to catch his breath with his erratic breathing. He dropped to his knees and then everything went black.
When he came to, he was in Recovery Girl’s infirmary. She told him he had apparently passed out. She surmised it was from his hyperventilating due to extreme stress and anxiety.
“Bull shit,” Shouta said under his breath.
She shot him a look that immediately made him close his mouth and rethink any other comments he wanted to make.
“I was there young man,” she said to him. “And I have been watching you the last few months Shouta. I’m not surprised this happened, honestly.”
Shouta sighed and looked away from Recovery Girl. He caught a glimpse of Nemuri sitting in a chair near him. She looked worried.
“Well… you aren’t going to like what I’m going to say next.”
He looked back at Recovery Girl, trying his best not to glare at her.
“You’re being put on two months administrative leave. You are to meet with Dr. Sasaki three times a week during that time. After the two months are up, you will be assessed to see if you are well enough to return back to work.”
Shouta knew it was pointless to argue with her. Recovery Girl was more stubborn than he was.
“This is for the best,” Nemuri said, smiling sadly at him.
“Tell me how that made you feel?” Dr. Sasaki asked him.
“How do you think it made me feel?” Shouta answered her, thinking the whole session had been a huge waste of time. It was their first meeting, a week after he had fainted, and things were going just about how he thought they would.
“Just answer the question please.” The doctor’s voice was calm, her tone patient.
He looked out the window, thinking after a couple of minutes she would start to talk again knowing he wouldn’t answer. But she remained still and silent in her seat.
Fine. “This is a waste of time, I’ll answer though. I was angry.” She had asked him how he had felt after the representative had talked about Bakugou’s situation with his injury.
“Why did you feel angry?”
Shouta whipped his head back toward her. “Because it was out of line. Because it was inappropriate, especially discussing Bakugou in his absence. He will be 18 in a few months. He fought valiantly in a war, he has led missons, real and mock, which show his dedication and maturity. He doesn’t need to be dismissed like he doesn’t know anything about his own well-being because he is technically a minor. He is allowed to make decisions about his own goddamn life.”
“He should have been a part of that discussion.”
“The discussion should have never happened in the first place.”
Dr. Sasaki nodded at him. “He should have control over his own life.”
“Yes,” Shouta practically spat back at her. “Of course he should have control over his own life. We all-” Shouta stopped himself. He knew what she was doing, he wasn’t stupid.
Dr. Sasaki gave him a look that said she was very aware that he knew what she was doing, too.
Shouta sighed. Of course he knew that was the crux of his situation. Control. Because if one was in control of everything around them nothing bad could happen. But it was impossible. That didn’t mean Shouta wasn’t making himself crazy trying to do so.
“Let’s talk about when you were sixteen-”
“Let’s not talk about it,” Shouta said talking over her. That was when it all began. Oboro died and Shouta was right there. He could have saved him if he had been quick enough, had the experience and skill to know how to deal with that crumbling building.
“You can’t control everything Shouta. Not even your own actions some of the time because we can’t see into the future. We can only see what is happening in the moment and make the best of it. And sometimes that isn’t enough, too. Because our bodies react to things outside our own will. We can flinch, we can blink and miss something, we can hyperventilate and pass out. It isn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault.”
He didn’t believe her. But he listened. And something so small, it was almost imperceptible stirred inside him. Something had lightened. He took a deep breath and let it out.
The sessions continued, Shouta slowly letting the doctor chip away at that wall. At first he fought it so hard, this would have never happened if it had not been forced upon him. But over the weeks things started to change. He felt like a weight was lifting. He had no idea how heavy it was because he had been carrying it for so long.
He was feeling better, better than he had felt in years, maybe his whole adult life. But there was a downside. Nemuri was around less and less. Shouta was smart enough to know it was because he didn’t need her to cope anymore. He missed a therapy session one day and stayed in his apartment, holed up with Nemuri on the couch watching movies. Later that evening Yagi showed up on his doorstop for a ‘visit.’ Shouta surprised himself when he invited him in and didn’t mind the intrusion.
Yagi hung out for a bit and told him next time the doctor would be the one knocking on his door if he missed another session. Shouta told Yagi goodbye and when he went back into his apartment, Nemuri was gone. He went to his appointment the next day, the doctor had squeezed in the appointment to make up for the missed one, and Shouta didn’t see Nemuri for three days.
The months passed and Shouta was cleared to return to work. As he slipped back into his usual routine, he couldn’t help but see how much Hizashi had changed since the last time he had seen him. He looked almost as gaunt as Yagi.
So, at Nemuri’s behest, finally giving into her one of the few times she had showed up that week, he took her up on her request. Shouta inserted himself into Mic’s business. He talked to him in the teacher’s lounge, forced him to go to Lunch Rush with him for lunch saying he would use his binding cloths if he said no, Hizashi reluctantly giving in. The next day Shouta showed up at his apartment to hang out.
“You hate hanging out,” Hizashi said, blocking the doorway with his now too-lean figure.
Shouta pushed past him and then couldn’t help but balk at the disastrous state his apartment was in.
“Fix your face,” Hizashi said glancing at him.
Shouta was surprised Hizashi didn’t smirk or frown or make any expression. Hizashi was numb. And that scared Shouta to death. He felt like the worst friend imaginable.
Shouta spent the day cleaning Hizashi’s apartment, Hizashi taking a shower and then helping with the cleaning efforts.
It took some time, but Hizashi, like Shouta, got better. And then two weeks had gone by and Shouta started to fret when he had not seen Nemuri during that space of time. He missed her terribly, he felt that pit in his chest and it was like he was losing her all over again.
Late one evening Shouta and Hizashi met up at a bar for some drinks after his radio show. Hizashi gave him that million-dollar grin as he walked in and Shouta was happy to see it. It used to annoy the hell out of him but now after the war he cherished it. It let him know Hizashi was going to be okay. That Shouta himself was going to be okay. Even if Nemuri wasn’t by his side.
Shouta had a beer. Hizashi had several beers. They started talking, Hizashi of course being way too loud, but Shouta was glad to see him lively again. After a time, Shouta and Hizashi went back to Shouta’s apartment to hang out and sober up. Shouta made Hizashi tea, made himself some coffee, and as they stood in the kitchen talking Hizashi dropped a bombshell, his voice lowering to a whisper.
“When Oboro died…during second year… we were…a thing.”
Shouta held his breath.
Hizashi gave him a small smile, his eyes watery. “We didn’t tell anyone. It was so new, we wanted to make sure it was a for real thing before we told you and Nem about it because we didn’t want to screw up our friendships. And then…” Hizashi shrugged.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Shouta said and then swallowed, trying to keep his tears back. Shouta had suffered so much with Oboro’s death but it must have been so much worse for Hizashi.
“You were taking things so bad. Withdrawing. I don’t know, I guess you weren’t the only one not handling things well then.”
“We were both kids, of course we weren’t handling it well.”
“Yeah.” Hizashi took a deep breath and then set his tea down. “The whole Kurogiri thing-”
Shouta’s body tensed up.
“It was like, losing him again. We found him, we both knew he was in there somewhere. Oboro was still inside Kurogiri. And then to lose him again on the battlefield-” Hizashi said, his last words gasping sobs.
Shouta took two steps and immediately wrapped his arms around Hizashi. He was finally doing what he should have done a decade and a half ago. Hizashi wept, Shouta holding his shaken form, still feeling so fragile from his weightloss. Hizashi was eating again, but it would take time for him to be back to his old self.
“I’m sorry Hizashi,” Shouta said. He had so much he regretted that he couldn’t put into words, but he hoped Hizashi knew how much he cared for him.
After some time as Hizashi regained his composure, he let go and then grabbed Shouta gently by his elbows. He looked at him with a resolute expression.
“I knew about you and Nem,” Hizashi said, his eyes red-rimmed from his crying, a sad smile on his face.
Shouta opened his mouth slightly, at a loss for words.
Hizashi grinned now. “Come on now, you were on and off for 15 years, like I wasn’t gonna see evidence eventually.”
Shouta’s eyes watered up until he couldn’t see anything. He blinked them away, but the tears kept flowing.
“We’ll get through this, man. We’ll get through it the right way. No more secrets. We’re besties, we need to be there for each other.”
Before Shouta knew it, his class was finishing with their last term as second years and UA was readying for a short break before the next term started. Shouta found himself frequently in the company of Yagi and Hizashi. One day Hizashi had referred to them as the ‘Three Dumbingos’ and Yagi had given Shouta a confused look. Shouta smirked, the reference making him feel a little sad, but mainly pleased. Shouta thought that Oboro would have been tickled that the amazing All Might had become a ‘Dumbingo.’
Later that night, Hizashi stopped by for dinner at Shouta’s place after his radio show. Shouta actually cooked for the first time in years he realized. A simple udon, but it wasn’t take-out or a microwave meal.
They stood in the kitchen after the meal, Hizashi making tea and that’s when Shouta saw her. She was wearing that long-sleeved hot pink sweater dress, the short one, it was Shouta’s favorite of hers. Her hair was up in a high ponytail. She was looking at Hizashi and smiling and then she looked at Shouta.
“My boys. I’m glad to see you both doing well.”
Hizashi turned toward him, they were both looking at Shouta, both looking so pleased and at peace. Shouta’s heart raced, he felt tears sting his eyes. He knew it would be the last time he saw her. The great love of his life. Who had saved him in so many ways.
Shouta gave Hizashi a small smile, which his best friend returned, and as he glanced back to Nemuri, he saw she was fading right in front of his eyes, a dazzling smile on her face.
Hizashi turned to tend to the whistling kettle on the stovetop.
“Thank you,” Shouta whispered to her as she disappeared. He wiped a tear from his cheek.
