Faltering

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Chieko ran as fast as her legs would carry her, but it wasn't enough. She couldn't reach him. Each time she got close enough to grasp his hand the darkness swallowed and pulled him back again. She screamed until her voice was hoarse, begging him to come back.
Finally, everything was draped in darkness. She couldn't hear his voice calling out anymore. She struggled against the weight of her limbs to run, or reach for him, to no avail.

Suddenly, her vision was flooded with light and she awoke with a start, shooting upright and gasping at the abrupt reality.

She was covered in a cold sweat and Shota was gently rubbing between her shoulder blades, his head tilted towards her with a worry line crinkling his forehead.

"Just a dream. Just a dream," she whispered and put her forehead in her hands to gather herself.

He knew the dream, they'd talked about it at length. It's haunted her since moving into the new place. Almost a month has gone by and nightly, he had to pull her from sleep and attempt to calm her down.

"Again?" he looked at her, his eyes quickly shifting left then right, then back again reading her face.

"Y-yeah, I'm sorry.." she glanced down at her hands, where she realized she'd been wringing the sheet.

He swung his legs down onto the end of the bed and pulled her to his chest.
"No need. You have nothing to be sorry for, love. But I really think you should consider slowing down. I thought moving here was for the best but you've doubled your workload since, and slept even less."
His forehead was crinkled with worry.

She nuzzled her head into his chest and glanced over to the clock. Then her eyes grew wide and panicked, she flew out of his lap, "You have to get dressed! You're going to be late! You can be late twice in your one week!"
Chieko rummaged through the closet and flung Shota's usual all black ensemble onto the bed beside him.
"I think they'll live if I'm a few minutes behind." He tried to pull her back to him with a smirk.

"Didn't you say one of them tried to blow the others up last time? And the other one keeps breaking bones? I know Recovery Girl is the best but maybe you should not leave them to their own devices. Even for a few minutes." She swatted his hand away and pointed to his clothes on the bed with a serious face.

"Fine." He huffed

                     °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The memory of her breath ghosting over his collarbone, the trail of kisses she always left from one side to the other, floated around his mind. He could almost feel her lips grazing his chest. Slowly pressing one kiss, two kisses, three kisses... her hands wandering his body.
But they weren't.
Shota stood in a cold board room, surrounded by media and other pro heroes. Chieko was home, probably napping. The press was preoccupied with All Might's presence here at UA, Shota was preoccupied with the memory of Chieko's pulse against his lips when he kissed her neck.
Shota thought teaching here would be a slower-paced, safer life, but he was slowly realizing that All Might's position at UA only wrought havoc and brought more attention to his students, himself, and his personal life.
He avoided the press like the plague before, and now since taking the position as homeroom teacher to the top freshman class at UA he was suffocated by it.

"The Symbol of Peace... Pfft." he snorted under his breath, mocking the reporters.
They'd insisted on holding a conference to address recent attempts by intruders to get onto campus--some of which were the press themselves trying to speak to All Might.
Nothing of note was found, Principal Nezu tightened security and allowed a small conference after class hours to put parents and civilians at ease.

Once the conference was technically over Shota headed home. With each step closer to home his mood lightened. Seeing Chieko would make everything better. She warmed the entire room with her smile.
He smiled at the thought of her smiling. She hadn't smiled much recently. He had a feeling she was keeping a lot of the stress from work hidden so he wouldn't worry.
He bit his lip and watched his feet as he walked. Thinking of her work made him uneasy, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He paused, putting a hand on his neck.
"Something's off .." he lowered his hand to his scarf, and the straps of his scarf began to hover over his head. He turned ready for whatever was waiting in the murky shadows.
They morphed and bent unnaturally and lashed out angrily.
After a moment, a shadow figure bolted forward throwing Shota against the wall. His hair and scarves fell flat for a split second before he flung himself forward. Whatever quirk this thing had, he couldn't erase it. Hand-to-hand combat seemed impossible, it was just a shadow flitting in and out of view. At least trying to fight it here kept it away from the crowd of reporters he had walked away from only minutes prior.
The shadow figure slapped Shota's calculated blows away as though it were child's play.
He couldn't seem to land a blow, it was like fighting mist. It shifted and his hand went right through. The figure lashed out again, this time faster than before and clasped Shota's head with its writhing black misty appendages.
It shoved Shota back against the wall, slamming his head against the concrete. Over and over, his face met stone.
The sick sounds of his skull meeting the concrete each time felt endless and echoed through the small alley.

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