I made a playlist for the story! Here's the link:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2Zu40WISl9eg0eCpYTg8Rl?si=gcHUQe-wR7uCImhHJcRCXg
***
Noise was always such a funny thing.
No one else had trouble discerning what was real and what wasn't.
You would tell Todoroki of the trees when you were younger; how you could hear them shivering when his ice came in contact with their leaves. You told him when he asked why you woke in the middle of the night of the clouds raising a racket, forming for a coming rainstorm. The water rising from the earth into the sky. The air cooling and heating up again when different beings walked in and out of the house.
None of it was real to anyone else.
"It's all in your head." Endeavor would say. "Ignore it." He'd add, dropping little suppressors to put in your ears so in-attentively in your hands.
It turns out, he was wrong.
It was all real.
Only no one else could hear the minute voices of the little existences in the world.
Only you.
Problem was, you started wishing you couldn't.
Because the more you heard and felt the trees shiver and the clouds form, the more you heard remnants of your parents.
Their voices.
Their endearments.
Their kind little gestures. Like moving a hand through your hair or a kiss on the nose.
Their less than kind gestures. Like moving away when you cried or flinching when you reached to touch them.
Their hands pulling out of reach.
Their coughs.
Their breathing, fading, fading, fading.
You didn't want to hear any of it anymore.
So you took those little things your new parent had so carelessly put into your possession. You kept them and their ideology close.
You fought with your body rather than your quirk.
You forgot the trees, the rain, the minute voices of the world.
You became who the ideology wanted you to be.
And for the first time in your life,
You reveled in the joy of not being able to remember.
***
The crowds were muffled beneath the weight of your panic-- no-- the weight of the boy's head that went lax between your hands.
Monoma's hair fell back over his face, his eyes loosely shut.
He was still breathing, but he'd never heard the world before.
And his consciousness faded with the pain he'd endured those few seconds of realizing it.
Wide eyed, barely breathing yourself, you tried to feel for signs of life.
His heart rate, bp, O2 levels, electrical signals in his brain, all of it.
They all seemed... strangely normal.
Normal for someone who'd simply fallen asleep.
It took a moment for you to realize what'd happened.
A moment longer for those dots to connect.
With a hitching breath, your head snapped up.
Past the stands, above all of the cheering fans, to face the press box where Aizawa and Present Mic sat apart from the rest.
Faintly, behind the glass, you caught sight of your teacher.
And as if he'd answered your calling, there he was, staring down at Monoma, hair risen, eyes red just as his erasure demanded.
You-- You thought, blinking up at him. stopped his... my quirk.
You were interrupted all too quickly though; A few on-sight paramedics shouting for room. They knocked you out of the way without care, pushing you from the boy, still unmoving.
