Unspoken Bonds | S. Aizawa x Reader

xxix. Turn the TV Off

"Oh you fucked fucked." Were the first words out of Kayama's mouth to the one and only Shouta Aizawa as he walked into UA the next morning.

"How can you even— just, keep it down, would you?" Eraserhead replied with a sigh, not even wanting to know how his dear friend could tell.

"You usually look like the Grim Reaper, and while you still hold those qualities, I can see the life in your eyes — I can also see—"

"You really don't know the meaning of keep it down, do you?" He spoke with a slightly louder tone, the woman immediately putting her hands up in surrender and shaking her head sadly. 

"Okay, okay, jeez Shouta." 

This wouldn't be the end, however, as Yamada approached with the same mindset as Midnight.

"Yooo, Shouta—"

With the blonde, however, his response was a bit more on the tough side.

A quite hard slap to the back of the head, which did catch the attention of some students and staff in the schools hallway. Yamada grabbed the man by his earlobe and dragged him off somewhere, Kayama following in a mixture of curiosity and confusion as to the blondes actions.

"Stop dragging me along like some neanderthal—" He was cut off as they were now in an old, empty, unused classroom. Once released by his friend, Aizawa had truly considered slapping the back of his head significantly harder than he'd done to him.

"Without her memories?" There it was, what had made him so hesitant to do so in the first place.

"Shit." Kayama realized in that moment that she hadn't even thought of that.

"I know, I know. Believe me, I know." He began, combing a hand through his hair. "When, when it began, I was against it, for the exact same reason. [L/n], out of the blue, kissed me. I did nothing at first, and even though I caved at one point I immediately regretted it. It was wrong, and fuck me, it felt so wrong, all of it did for awhile." The emotions on his face were evident, something uncommon and very telling, and both Kayama and Yamada took their positions for listening to his story; Midnight sitting atop a desk and Present Mic leaning against a wall.

"During the first week, I struggled a lot. There were little moments here and there, and I found myself feeling like a damned animal anytime I though such things, especially when she hadn't really done anything. But yesterday, yesterday she kissed me. There was a look in her eyes, she was searching for something that she needed." The man took in a deep breath, going into the fine and personal details of his life, especially something so intimate, was not his thing. 

But this was necessary.

"Familiarity. She had lost it, entirely. Still has. [L/n] said that she needed to know if what she was feeling was real. Some part of her deep down kept that feeling, even if the memories that came along with them weren't attached. We didn't go far until she'd looked me in my eyes and told me I trust you."

"To be clear, Shouta, I wasn't accusing you of doing anything along the lines of lack-of-consent, I was just worried because she isn't fully... there." Yamada clarified, even though he was sure that Aizawa understood his concern. And by the story just told, the man himself was, if not significantly more.

With a look that showed how much he'd already thought this through and was well aware of what might come, "If I go home tonight and am told how it was all nothing but a big mistake and she wants to pummel me or stay elsewhere, I understand. Maybe it was wrong, maybe I was taking advantage and all of this is just some excuse clouding my brain and convincing me otherwise. But at the very end of this possibly cataclysmic mistake, when I made an even possibly more heinous mistake of telling her that I love her, she told me I don't know enough, but based on how my body and mind feel, the me-with-my-memories loves you too, Shouta."

"Fuck." Was the shared of response of his friends.

"Classes are starting soon, we better go." Aizawa didn't say anymore than that as he put his hands in his pockets and left to go to his classroom, leaving Yamada and Kayama alone.

"I've never been the pessimistic type, and I hate to even consider the possibility, but what do you think will happen of them if her memories never return?" Kayama spoke in a bit of a soft tone.

"Truly?" Yamada breathed, looking at the door Aizawa had just exited. "She'll fall in love with him again. If there's even the smallest part of her that still has that feeling, there's no way they won't still end up together."

"Mentally though, missing so many years of her life still, it won't be easy."

"Nothing ever truly is, is it?"

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The days had gone by as they had been, his students making their inquiries as to Lightbringer's state, and being informed how it still wasn't a great idea for her to quite make an appearance, not yet.

Especially with Bakugou, and that was something that everyone knew.

Though today, when Aizawa had arrived home from his day of teaching, [L/n] wasn't there.

"[F/n]?" He called out, though nothing but silence followed. 

"Are you here?" He called out once again, feeling slightly more panicked this time as he began to search the apartment. The inner thought of her leaving because of what happened about a week ago began to creep in, but she'd shown no sign of that night being any sort of bother. Hell, they'd even joked and referred back to it on a few occasions, so he was quite sure that wasn't the cause.

After realizing she wasn't in any open area, he knocked on her bedroom door and was once again met with silence, at least in terms of her own voice. Her television however, was on. "I'm coming in, I just need to make sure you're alright."

Pushing open the door felt like the equivalent of Sisyphus pushing that boulder up an unending mountain. He wasn't even sure why, but an existential dread washed over him before he'd even seen the inside of her room.

Vacant.

And the contents of the television, a YouTube video that had been placed on repeat.

Kamino: The Day the Heroes Prevailed, at the Cost of their Own

"Oh no no no..." The man dropped everything he was holding, which wasn't much, and gawked at the horror that had been paused on the video.

[F/n] [L/n], entirely nude, an expressionless face, fighting Bakugou — a child.

Turning his head he looked at her mirror that had large words written on them in sharpie.

I AM NO HERO.

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I live:)