Eraserhead and Scribe IV

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

He must have slept because he woke, confused, in semi-darkness. When she stirred beside him, he froze. It wasn't a dream. Because I'm definitely awake now.

He took stock of his surroundings. His bedroom, his bed. And Scribe beside him, one arm over his chest. It was definitely the stuff his mostly privately guarded dreams were made of. He cautiously brushed her hair back from her face, careful even though he knew it didn't matter. He couldn't hurt her. He never had been able to.

How many months had gone by since the day he saw her for the first time in the woods behind UA? So much had changed it might have been years. He might as well be trying to count minutes or seconds or sands in an hourglass for that matter. He'd long since accepted that he loved her, that she loved Eraser, and that they would never be together. Accepting it didn't stop the dreams.

Or this.

But what was this, anyway? Had she relapsed into the fantasy world the doctor had created when he tried to brainwash her? Was someone else messing with her brain? Or was it her own quirk somehow working against her?

Whatever the situation was, he should get in touch with Eraser as soon as possible. He frowned at the thought. His temporary truce with the hero Eraserhead, known better as Shota Aizawa or Scribe's husband, had expired long ago. Still, he knew the man would be searching for Scribe. And one of his first suspicions would be that Shigaraki or one of his men had taken her.

Which isn't totally not true. Shigaraki heaved a sigh, then realized his mistake when Scribe stirred again, this time raising her head. She rolled onto her side, propping her chin on the arm on his chest, her eyes shining even in the twilit room. "Hi."

"H-hi." He nearly gasped the word. Obviously napping hadn't brought back her memory.

She laughed and sat up, stretching. "I feel so much better. Glad you suggested a nap." She rubbed the back of her head and made a face. "Ooh. But I need a shower. Jeez, I can't believe I just slept in your bed like this."

"It doesn't matter." He watched her cautiously. "I'm just glad you feel better."

Her lips curved and suddenly she lay back down next to him, and before he could move, her arms had slid around his waist, her lips covering his. The blissful sensation was only marred by his absolute belief that it shouldn't be happening. Which didn't stop him from pulling her closer with one arm, the other hand on her face, reveling in the softness of her skin, the silky feel of her hair. He rolled over so he lay beside her, kissing her, felt her lips part beneath his—and he pulled away.

"No! We can't..." He trailed off and cursed softly. I don't think I ever truly realized how hard it is to not do something I really want to do.

She frowned up at him. "You have been so weird today."

"It's been a weird day." He sat up, scrubbing his face with one hand. "Look. You need a shower. And I need to...I have business. Stay here. Take a shower. Relax. I'll send you up some food." He paused, realizing she would need clothes. "I'll, um, send you up some clothes, too." He wondered how, exactly, he was going to manage that without raising eyebrows, even in the vast complex. Maybe Himiko could help. Not that they were anywhere near the same size, but at least she was a woman.

"Why do you need to send me clothes? Aren't all mine here?" She glanced at the wardrobe.

"No, they're...all being cleaned. Remember?" He groaned inwardly, knowing he was messing this up. "Just...take a shower. Or a long bath. Relax. You've had a rough day, too." He leaned down and kissed her quickly, then turned to the door, making his escape as smoothly as possible.

The downstairs was set up as a common area for officers in the Paranormal Liberation Front. Shigaraki had always stuck close to his own quarters, but he needed information. And help. He found both in the officers' lounge. Himiko and Spinner were hanging out, fortunately alone. He entered silently, and his eyes were drawn to the television. A picture of Scribe. The announcer talking about how she had been reported missing. Shigaraki walked closer. Himiko looked up. "Oh, hey, Shigaraki. You know her, right?"

Shigaraki barely glanced at her. His eyes were glued to the screen. How much longer? Eraser must be looking for him even now. Spinner stood. "You okay boss?"

He reached for the remote and turned the television off. "Himiko, do me a favor?"

She sat up. "Sure. What's up?"

"I need food. For...for two people. Sent up to my room. And..." He hesitated, then plunged forward. "I need clothes. For a woman. A little shorter than you. And...maybe a little slimmer."

Himiko gave him a narrow look. "And I'm supposed to take care of your guest because I'm a female?"

He sighed. "She's not...exactly...that sort of guest." He looked at Spinner for help.

Spinner shrugged. "Whatever you say, boss." He turned to Himiko. "I brought her in this morning. She may need help. A...person of interest, you might say. But she could be valuable."

"Please, Toga. I'll owe you." Shigaraki sank onto the sofa with a weary sigh.

Himiko rolled her eyes. "Fine. Just remember you said that." She flounced out.

Spinner shut the door behind her. "What's going on, boss? I half expected all hell to break loose up there."

"And yet you brought her to me." Shigaraki glared at him.

"You won't let us touch her. I figured you wouldn't want her to lay in a ditch either."

"True." Shigaraki groaned. "But I never thought she'd lose all grip on reality."

"She what?" Splnner blinked in surprise.

"Never mind." Shigaraki sat up and fixed his lieutenant with a glare. "You brought her here. You know where you found her. Go back there and retrace her steps. I need to know why she's here now. And stay out of sight. Eraser's gonna be looking for her and me, too, but he'd probably settle for you."

"Sure, I can do that." Spinner started for the door. But before he could open it, Scribe did it for him.