BNHA Oneshots (x reader, ships, etc.)

!F!🐈‍⬛💔| Home to Me| Shota Aizawa

TW/CW: death angst, grief

A/N: y'all should know by now that I don't do the soft stuff without some kind of pain to follow

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Everyone else had long since departed, the sun starting to set over the lone figure standing beside the fresh grave. He won't allow himself to cry, not yet. Not now. Part of him questions if he even has any tears left in him: he shed so many that night, so many more than he ever thought humanly possible. Part of him wants to scream, to break something, anything to lessen the weight on his chest and the pain in his heart. How cruel it was, for today to be so sunny, so bright and clear, for the world to be so damn cheerful when he'd lost everything, when he'd lost her. 

He was a hero, had been for years. He knew the risks, knew what came with the job, knew that sometimes, going to work meant never coming home. It was a fact he'd long since accepted for himself. But for her? That was an outcome he'd never anticipated; one he'd always feared and would never have been able to prepare himself for. She'd known the risks, they both had, that was just the life of a hero, but...

But dammit, why did it have to be her?

It was just supposed to be a regular rescue mission, a few civilians to pull out of a collapsed tower in downtown Musutafu. There weren't any villains involved, it was considered a low-risk situation, and she'd been nearby when it had happened, had been one of the top choices for it because of her quirk and skill with rescue missions. He'd been out of town, on a trip with his students. She'd told him she'd call when she was done. Like she always did. 

That phone call never came, that last text seeming to mock him even now. The last words he ever got from her were a simple, "I'll talk to you later, Sho. Love you." His response wasn't even read, had been left on delivered: she'd always been so damn dedicated to work, just like him. He'd loved that about her, so damn much... But what he'd loved had led to her never even seeing that last "I love you, too" from him, and God, how that haunted him. Those words he never got to say, that goodbye he never could've prepared himself for, all the "I love you"s that he bit back for years until he'd finally confessed. All the things he wanted to say, wanted to do, all the times he wanted to have with her, erased in the blink of an eye, dreams and plans crushed beneath the rubble when that tower fully sank into itself: it only took one life, according to the news, but to Shota, it took everything.

He stares at the headstone, eyes lingering on the shadows of those engraved letters and numbers. She had hated her surname; Shota had wanted to propose for the past year and just never got the nerve. She was only 28, 3 years younger than him. She'd be 29 in two months if fate hadn't had other plans. He would've proposed, he tells himself, if he'd just had more time. 

He doesn't realize he's crying until a full sob forces its way from his throat, doesn't realize his legs are shaking until his knees buckle and he hits the ground next to the freshly packed earth. He tries to grit his teeth against the pain, against the tears, but grief has a way of coming to the surface no matter how deep you try to bury it. But maybe that's the problem, because six feet of earth separate him from the one he'd loved, and if grief is love with no place to go, then maybe burying things would only make the grief worse. Maybe that's why it felt like his soul had been cleaved in two. 

His mind whirls, memories and thoughts and emotions swirling and colliding in a massive storm in his brain, in his chest. So much love, with no place to go. So many dreams, with no real chance of ever being reached. So many plans for the future, snuffed out with her final breath. So many promises, broken like fragile bones, shattered like glass, crushed and destroyed under the weight of an eight-story tower. 

One promise echoes over and over in his mind, taunting him from all corners of his mind. It was a promise they'd made when they first started dating, a promise all hero couples make and can only pray to keep: the promise to return home when the day is done. It was a promise they relied on, a promise they'd cling to when one or the other was on a dangerous mission or just any time they left home. 

Shota would always say, "Stay safe."
She'd always respond, "Always, Sho. I promised."
And he'd always smile and sigh, doing his best to relax.
And she'd always come home.
Until she didn't. 

"...You were supposed to come home, dammit." He curses, voice breaking as he stares at the headstone before him. 

The only response he receives is the soft summer breeze that rustles through the trees, a bird's song playing in the distance. She would've loved a day like today, all sunny and bright. 

Shota hates it.

Grief and rage build in his chest, bubbling over as he grits his teeth and slams a fist against the earth, his other hand clutching at his chest as if trying to tear out that ball of utter agony and sorrow in his chest. Tears flow from his eyes, falling onto the freshly dug earth.

"You were supposed to come home to me!" He cries out, as if she could hear him. As if it would bring her back. A fool's hope, truly, but a fool in love will do anything if it eases their heart. 

He sobs, curling in on himself as he sits before her grave, his knees barely brushing the dirt in front of him. He'd give anything to feel those gently arms, to hear that voice in his ears, to just feel her warmth again. Hell, he'd kill just to see her smile, just to hear her say "I love you" one last time, to hold her again.

He exhales shakily, feeling as though his chest is caving in as the words force themselves from his throat. "I didn't even get to say goodbye. You're never coming home, and I never even got to tell you goodbye... I didn't even get to fucking say that I loved you one last time. You were supposed to be here, goddammit." 

But there's nobody to hear his words, nobody to hold him close and comfort him. He's alone now, maybe more so than he ever was. So much of his future had been so closely wrapped up with her, had been so reliant on her being there... and now she wouldn't be. She will never come home again, and neither will he. He's lost his home, his sanctuary, his safe place, the love of his life... He's lost her, and there's no way to change that. He can't even get revenge, can't find solace in a final goodbye. He's left with nothing but a headstone and an engagement ring that will never be worn.