The Aizawa Effect - (Aizawa X OC)

A Narrow Escape

A heavy force pressing on my body made it impossible to move. It was almost as if I was wrapped in a weighted blanket or being hugged tightly.

I tried to open my eyes but couldn't see anything beyond the blackness around me. Noises seemed faint and jumbled as what sounded like desperate screams or alarms softly echoed in my consciousness. A wave of erratic sensations swept across my body. My limited range of motion and sight didn't bother me; I wanted to savor this peace.

After a while, I heard a woman's voice calling my name. If I listened carefully, I could hear her telling me about her day and how she missed me. She kept asking why I never reached out for help, but I was confused.

"Sweetheart, you never tell me what's wrong anymore. I never knew you were suffering for so long, and you didn't even tell Mia or Jayce. He's so beside himself. I'm trying to figure out where I went wrong. Please, wake up, and we'll make sure this never happens again," she said sadly.

Who was this? Reach out for help about what?

There were also two men talking ever so often, one older and one younger. The younger man was so animated when he spoke and talked about everything from his job to being unable to find the coffee in his office and using his "emergency stash" to combat the long days he was having. When he came around, I felt a warm sensation on my cheek and then on my hand.

I couldn't reciprocate the feeling or be sure what it was, but he sounded worried. Whenever I heard his voice, he apologized before continuing with whatever he was saying. His voice cracked periodically when he spoke about how things fell apart so quickly and how he'll never forgive himself.

"Everything is running like clockwork, I promise. We had four new heroes join the agency this week alone. This couldn't have happened without you. When you wake up, you need a proper vacation and spa day. I'll take you on drives around the city and get you whatever you want. I promise," he tried to say in an assuring tone, but his voice wavered.

The agency? Wait, I remember something about that.

The older man's voice sometimes came with the younger man, and other times alone. He often announced himself with a deep but soft, "Hey, kiddo, it's me." Though his voice seemed familiar, I couldn't pinpoint who it was.

He mostly stayed quiet or paced the room; a clicking sound could be heard as he moved closer and further away. He often hummed or sang softly in Spanish.

"When you wake up, Mija, I'll start speaking to you in Spanish again so you don't forget it. We'll plan days where you and I hang out in the garden or catch up on those novellas you got me into earlier this year. I just need you to wake up, por favor, para mi," he sniffled before returning to pacing.

These loving voices kept coming around more often and became more precise over time. One day, however, things took a turn when a muffled argument broke out.

The older man's deep voice hissed in a hushed yell, "What did you do when you went over there?!"

A loud gasp followed by heavy breathing could be heard before the younger man replied exasperatedly, "I didn't do anything! I'm telling the truth, Dad!"

A loud noise echoed before the older man spoke again, "She left Hartford and went to Japan and was fine. She spoke to her mom and Mia and was fine. You went there to bring her back and suddenly she's not?!"

After a few seconds of silence, the same voice spoke again, this time more threatening, "I swear to God if you don't tell me what happened."

"Javier, this is hard for him, too. Give him a chance to speak," the woman suggested cautiously.