{~Deku one-shots with angst~}

Everything I've Ever Given Up (is scarred with claw marks)

A/N: Another chapter is here! I've had this idea in my mind for a while now and I couldn't help but want to write itttt! Hopefully, you all enjoy this! Sheesh. This one is gonna be an angsty ride, so get ready LOLL ;)

AU: Giving up has never been easy. It never will be.

Warning: a little bit graphic violence, manga spoilers (technically)!! MCD!

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The sky was falling apart.

Chunks and slabs of debris creaked dangerously, looming overhead, as Aizawa darted throughout the site, trying to force the villain into the trap the heroes had made. His Purple Highness gave him a quick glance of assurance, as Aizawa forced his stinging eyes to glow crimson, watching the large, broad-shouldered villain flinch in surprise. A roar of indignation rebounded in the air, and Shota struggled to keep his watering eyes open; god, when will he get control of this damned quirk?

The sky had been falling apart, that night when he had too. In hindsight, Shota should have seen it: in the way the heavens were crying, in the way that dust was already shrouding upon his dreams, in the dull shadows that had casted over his eyes for lifetimes before. The world sent him so many warnings, yet they hadn't been enough.

It had been hours since the fight had started, and the villain finally fell with a cloud of dust, leaving a warren disaster in its wake, but adrenaline still coursed through his veins, as his mentor and sidekicks started to transport the unconscious villain away. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins, as his sluggishly bleeding arm was numbed in his almost frantic desire to carry on saving the victims of the damage. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins, when he saw a single arm.

A single arm, grasping onto a pair of obnoxiously bright yellow goggles, stained with fresh blood and marred with dust.

Static filled his ears, all oxygen left his body, as if a puppeteer had cut all his strings and left him to hang lifelessly. The sky was screaming, but all he heard was silence.

In this moment that time itself seemed to be disillusioned, as his eyes stood unseeing, his mind ran marathons in the dead silence; how strange it was that he'd become a stranger to silence. Become unused to the lulling emptiness that came within silence, hollow and echoing, with not even the sound of his breath being able to be heard. Silence. Loneliness. No one to prove he had existed- no one to prove that he was existing in that very moment; not his own heartbeat, not his own warmth, just pitch dark, empty, silence. He had grown up in that silence, but it felt...foreign, now.

All that had caused this, that had unlocked the door to his closeted heart, all that had breezed life into his collapsing lungs, all that had lit his world with sunlight, all that had watered the ashen roots of his veins; it was all condensed here, under this slab of concrete as heavy as this burden the world gave him,  broken and tangled and-

"O-Oboro..?" Aizawa whispered, the hoarse sound strange to his own ears.

-and dying.

Shota, Hizashi, Oboro.

"With us three, we can cover each other's weak spots!"

Shota, Hizashi, Oboro

"Let's build a hero agency together!"

Shota, Hizashi...

"Shota, are you alright?"

"Sho-"

Fuck. Aizawa's eyes snapped open, breaking him out of his trance. He needed to- to provide first aid, needed to help people, needed to tell Highness, needed to- Oboro needed to be saved, he-