Eraserhead and Scribe IV

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Ichika, the young woman who acted as healer to the Paranormal Liberation Front even though she refused to fight on their behalf, could only shake her head. "She's comatose. It's really all I can tell you. My quirk won't help her. The damage to her mind is too deep. But I don't think she'll come out of this on her own."

Shigaraki nodded and stood aside as the woman left. He sat in the chair next to the bed, his eyes on the phone she'd laid on the bedside table. What do I do? He knew the answer, he just didn't want to do it. Eraser had access to hospitals and quirks that Shigaraki did not. Especially for Scribe, a hero who only a handful of his most trusted lieutenants could even know was here.

All it would take was one call to Eraser. They could meet and Eraser would make sure she had the best of care. He might even agree to let Shigaraki know when she was better.

The danger of her remembering too fast was the only real excuse I had to keep her. That's been realized. I have to do what's best for her.

He sighed and sat forward, reaching for the phone. He paused, looking at the picture on the screen again. Then he dialed the number.

***

They met near the hospital Eraser told him about. The same one she'd been in when the doctor had captured her consciousness. The spot was the parking lot of an abandoned building. Shigaraki got out of the passenger side of the car when another car approached. He glanced at Spinner. "Stay here."

He went to the back door and gently lifted Scribe's unconscious form from the seat. He wanted to say goodbye but knew he couldn't. For one thing, there was no way to say goodbye to her, unconscious or not. For another, both Eraser and All Might waited none too patiently beside the other car. Shigaraki carried her to All Might, who accepted her weight and turned back to the car.

"Thank you." Eraser looked like he might say more, then he shook his head and started to turn away.

"She said something. Before she passed out again."

Eraser looked over his shoulder. "What?"

Tell Shota we missed one. Tell him to go back. He has to help her before she gets hurt.

Suddenly everything made sense. The brutality of the attack, the visceral nature of it. "Oh my God." He remembered the picture of Scribe and Eri. Mother and daughter. The bonds were primal, instinctive. If Eraser goes back, the same thing will happen. But I can help.

"Shigaraki!" Eraser sounded impatient.

"N...nothing. Just...when she wakes up, just tell her I took care of it." Shigaraki strode purposefully back to the car. He waited only long enough to see their car pull away before he turned to Spinner. "Let's go."

***

The deserted alley was still and quiet. Shigaraki approached with caution. If he was right, someone hid here who could cause the damage Scribe had already suffered. He had no desire to go through that himself.

So he sat on an overturned barrel, his elbows on his knees. He pulled out the bag of fast food he'd stopped to pick up on the way. "Don't know if anyone around here is hungry, but I bought more than I can eat." He pulled out the paper-wrapped hamburger and set it to the side. "I might just have a fry or two, as a matter of fact." He reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of fries, munching on one thoughtfully. "Pretty decent."

A slight rustle to his right caught his attention but he didn't turn. "You must be hungry, I figure. Been on your own for a couple of days, right?"

"I saw you here. With him." The hissing voice was full of venom.

Shigaraki turned. "Ah, there you are."

The little girl couldn't be more than eight. Her face was dirty, but her clothes were new. She looked like, even alone, she'd been trying to take care of herself. She glared at him. "Who are you?"

"A friend." Shigaraki motioned to the hamburger with a fry. "Why don't you eat and we'll talk."

The girl took another step toward him, then leaned forward and snagged the burger, scurrying back into the shadows.

"Y'know, Scribe was pretty worried about you. That's why she came back here."

The girl snorted. "Guess I gave her what for, huh?"

"Yeah, guess you did." Shigaraki nodded. "She's in the hospital now. They're not sure if she'll recover."

The girl looked up from the burger. "I'm not sorry. And I'll do the same thing to you if you try anything."

"Sure, well, this is me definitely not trying anything." Shigaraki pulled out the phone and pretended to look through it, his gaze locked on the picture of Scribe and Eri.

"How come you're here anyway?" The girl licked her dirty fingers of the last of the burger grease.

"I wanted to see if you were still mad." Shigaraki gave her a canny look. "I figure you must've been plenty mad to do that much damage to Scribe. She's a pretty strong hero."

"Yeah, I was mad! She took my whole family! She took my grandma, my friends!" The girl stopped, her lip trembling. "She took my mom."

Shigaraki nodded. "Yeah, I get it. She stole your family. She was doing her job, though." He held up the phone so the picture showed. "And now her little girl doesn't have a mother either. Guess that's fair, though."

The girl took a tremulous step forward, her eyes glued to the picture. "That's her little girl?"

"Her name's Eri." Shigaraki watched the girl with caution. "She misses Scribe very much."

The girl looked at her feet. "Yeah, well...sorry. I can't undo it. Even if I wanted to. I'm...not sure I know how."

Shigaraki felt a rush of disappointment. But though he'd hoped the child could help Scribe and would agree to, it wasn't the only reason he'd come. He nodded, then he stood. "Look, kid, Scribe wants you off the street. I came to make that happen. Come with me. We'll figure it out."

"Are you going to turn me in to the police?"

"Who knows?" Shigaraki shrugged. "Maybe if you piss me off. But I've always sort of believed in finders' keepers. How about you?" He held out a gloved hand. "Like I said, come with me and we'll figure it out."

The girl gave him a suspicious look, then took his hand. Shigaraki wondered what on earth he'd do with the child if she didn't want to be turned in to the police. The Paranormal Liberation Front was no place for a child. But he'd figure it out, just like he'd promised.