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Shouta shivers, drawing his capture weapon around his shoulders. Police lights flash in the corner of his eye, just out of view of the alley he"s tucked himself into. There are ambulances too, somewhere in the chaos. Shouta pays them no mind. He"s not injured, and he has no interest in speaking further with authorities. He"s given all the information he has. In any case, All Might will have no issues dealing with the aftermath.
Footsteps, heavy and purposeful, approach his makeshift hiding place. Speak of the devil.
The footsteps pause only a short distance away from him. Shouta doesn"t look up. He knows who they belong to even before the unmistakable booming voice starts to speak.
"I owe you my thanks, Eraser-Head."
It feels strange, talking to All Might on the field. Shouta avoids the possibility as much as he can, these days. It"s hard to treat the Symbol of Peace as just another colleague when all Shouta can see is the man that lies beneath the hulking brawn. The man who"s anxious and hesitant and so painfully earnest that he smashed past Shouta"s carefully crafted barriers without needing even a fraction of his unfathomable strength.
Shouta doesn"t speak. Couldn"t speak, even if he wanted to. Can"t acknowledge those words from All Might"s mouth. His mind - and his heart - remain affected by the aftershocks of a fear he"d never expected to feel. Not for a man who was supposed to be indestructible.
(But then, Shouta knows better than that now, doesn"t he?)
All Might continues speaking, in that same frustratingly upbeat tone. "If you hadn"t been there, things might have been a lot worse."
Shouta almost snorts - almost. That"s one way to put it. If it hadn"t been for him, paramedics would be tending to All Might right now rather than just injured civilians.
"Your assistance was a great help. Thank you for your work tonight."
It"s so horribly formal. So fucking normal that Shouta wants to smash his head into the brick wall at his back - anything to show the man standing before him what he"s done to him. The nausea rises again, hot and acidic. For a moment he"d been fifteen again, and it hadn"t been the safety of an experienced, fully-fledged Pro-Hero he"d feared for. But in both cases, it was a friend.
He sighs instead, trembling the way his body won"t. All Might remains where he stands, almost awkward.
Shouta stares at the concrete; it blurs before his eyes. Damn this man and the things he makes Shouta feel. He doesn"t have the will to ignore it anymore.
"Will you sit with me?" The words come out quiet; defeated.
For a moment, he almost expects All Might to leave. He shuffles on his feet, glancing anxiously towards the distant crowd. Shouta holds his breath; he doesn"t realise it until All Might ducks into the cover of darkness beside him when it leaves him in a rush.
The Symbol of Peace sits down beside him, tucking his legs up against his chest. He rests his hands on his knees. It’s like he"s trying to take up as little space as possible. Shouta bites back a pointed comment. It won"t benefit either of them.
Instead he twists the frayed end of his capture weapon; looping it around his fingers, again and again. He can feel All Might"s eyes on him, piercing in their concern. "You seem shaken."
Shouta huffs, closing his eyes. He"s tired - so much heavier than usual. He’s used to tired. He’s not used to this. "Watching someone you care about almost get themselves killed will do that."
All Might looks away, silent. Shouta chances a glance toward him. He"s not smiling. Not anymore - not with Shouta as his solitary audience. "It wouldn"t be the first time," he says, unnaturally soft, and Shouta knows that, but it"s different when he"s standing there to see it for himself. Different when it wasn"t All Might he feared for. Not entirely.
He clenches his fist around the end of his scarf, hard enough to hurt. “For a moment I thought… I wasn’t going to make it in time.”
All Might is silent as he contemplates his words. “It’s not like you to step into a fight like that,” he says finally. “Not when there are so many eyes on the scene.”
He’s right. He’s right, and Shouta fucking hates it. Shouta doesn’t work during the day if he can help it. He wasn’t going to step in. All Might had it handled.
Until he didn’t.
“No,” he mutters, bitter, “it’s not.”
All Might fidgets with his hands. “I have to admit… I was relieved when you showed up. Things were a bit dicey for a minute, there!” He dons his smile and that carefree tone again - so much more aggravating than before Shouta knew what he could sound like without it.
Something snaps, deep within Shouta’s heart.
“Will you stop that?” he hisses. All Might turns to him with wide eyes, his smile falling. “Stop acting like this is normal .” Shouta buries his face in his arms, wishing for a composure he doesn’t have the strength to reach.
“I thought I was going to watch you die. And I was-” The words catch in his throat. His breath hitches and he grits his teeth.
All Might is silent as he brings himself back under control. Shouta lifts his head, wiping at his face with a tattered sleeve. His eyes are painfully dry. He should get his eyedrops. But that will do nothing for the ache in his chest. So he doesn’t bother.
All Might looks to him. Shouta avoids his eyes, focusing on the cracks in the concrete. The heavy silence hangs between them. And then All Might speaks, soft and defeated. “Aizawa... I don’t know what you want me to say.”
Neither does Shouta, truthfully. Maybe he just wants it not to hurt. For the knowledge he has now not to matter the way it does. To discard All Might and his grandeur the way he used to, before he knew what each grand action cost the man responsible for it all.
His voice is hoarse. “I don’t want to watch you die.”
All Might tries again. “Aizawa-”
“Stop.” Shouta leans back, the brick wall cold against the back of his head. “If we’re going to have this conversation - I need you to do it as yourself. Not as the Symbol. Not if it really matters to you.”
He can feel All Might’s shields go up. The unspoken fragility between them vanishes in an instant. Again, Shouta half expects his request to go unheeded. Maybe All Might will simply get up and leave entirely. He’s been running from so much as it is. What’s one thing more?
And then a sigh, heavy and conceding. A puff of steam - and Yagi Toshinori sits in All Might’s place. His eyes are dark, that glint of blue barely discernible, his jaw painfully tight. He slouches forward, dwarfed by the wrinkled fabric of his gaudy hero suit, and -
Shouta loves him. There’s no point in denying it.
Toshinori breathes out - this time not quite a sigh - as he leans forward, resting his chin on his folded arms. His voice is quiet, in a way that’s more authentic than anything that came moments before. “I don’t want to hurt you, Shouta.”
“I know,” Shouta says, just as softly. He turns and rests his head on Toshinori’s shoulder, feeling him stiffen beneath the touch. That ache in his chest squeezes a little tighter. At least Toshinori allows it. Shouta would give so much more, if only he’d let him.
“I can’t stop now. Not while I can still help people. You know that.”
Shouta does. Toshinori doesn’t want to hurt him. Won’t stand by when anyone else might be hurt, no matter the consequences.
But himself never factors in. That’s where his incessant determination falters.
“But you don’t have to do it alone,” he murmurs. A part of him wants to reach out and hold him tight; a part he’d stubbornly buried until all that stood between Toshinori and the sort of damage he couldn’t bounce back from was Erasure. Continuing to bury it feels less and less reasonable.
Toshinori swallows. “It’s safer alone. For everyone.” He doesn’t move away.
Shouta decides to try something more direct. “I know the risks.”
Toshinori slumps. “You don’t know all of them.” His voice is small.
“Then tell me.” Shouta turns his head so he can better see Toshinori’s face. “But I don’t think it will change my mind.”
Toshinori looks to him, his face tinged by an exhaustion Shouta knows all too well. Still, he attempts a smile - weak and wonderfully honest. “You’re nothing like what I thought when we first met.”
Shouta scoffs, without malice. “I could say the same about you.”
Toshinori chuckles, turning away. Shouta remains as he was. Toshinori’s hero costume is scratchy against his skin. With each tired breath the sleek fabric reshapes itself, the excess of material finding a new form.
Toshinori speaks again, hesitant. “I’ll... try. And...” His voice trails off.
Slowly, he rests his chin against Shouta’s forehead - purposefully light, like the thought of burdening Shouta with even that much is crushing. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”
It’s not a yes. But it’s a promise. Toshinori will keep it - Shouta knows that much.
He smiles slightly, letting it bleed into his voice. “You seem to be making a habit of it. Good thing I like you enough to put up with it.”
Toshinori doesn’t reply - but Shouta can feel the curve of his smile.