One against All

Chapter 2

His footsteps thumped against the sidewalk as the scowl was still present on his face. Everyone who saw him, avoided him like the plague, and he kept the thought in the back of his mind that he can make it home and just relax.

Kami hates him.

A hand roughly clamped on his left shoulder, forcing him to spin around and face the perpetrator. Familiar red eyes came into sight and he narrowed his own, not in the mood.

"What the fuck was that nerd?!" Shouted the pomeranian, his famous ugly scowl on his face, looking like an asshat.

In response, he raised his eyebrow, scowl fading into a small frown as his eyes shown with indifference.

This angered Bakugou for some reason. Seemed like he wanted the cowering Deku who was even more useless than a rat.

"I didn't need you to fucking save me!" Another shout. "Definitely not from you Deku!" The jeer was emphasized by a jab to the chest with his index finger.

He deadpanned, "yeah. And you sure wouldn't of suffocated before All Might could've arrived" sarcasm dripped off his tongue as if he'd been doing it his whole life. It felt great.

The words fueled the fire in Bakugou's eyes, from a small house fire to a forest fire instantly. And anger got the best of the male.

His right hand lifted and curled it into the same position needed for an explosion. Knowing he couldn't avoid the head on attack, he screwed his eyes shut.

It happened instantaneously. One second there was no pain. And the next he was on the ground, the smell of burning flesh familiar to his nostrils.

When he came to his senses, no Bakugou was in sight, and a dull pain throbbed on the right side of his face. His right hand lifted as he sat up, moving to touch his face.

He flinched at the pain that blossomed, and his want to get home intensified. If it was serious enough to go to the hospital, he would've been passed out by then. Right?

Whatever. Not like he could check with his flip phone. And venturing anywhere else would probably lead to another attack by his luck that day. Or lack thereof.

So he set home. His mother would be absent. That's what he's thankful for in that moment. It will give him time to treat himself and take a nap before she arrives from work.

After that, he needs to talk to her about something-

The thoughts of the chat with his mother are cut off when he bumps into something. He winced and corrects his footing so he wouldn't topple.

His eyes trailed upwards, figuring it wasn't a thing he ran into but a person. Cloaked in black, pale skin, black hair, and gray scarf. Can't forget the pair of eyebags underneath his black eyes.

"Sorry" he muttered, head moving back to in front of him, and moved to walk around them. Not even two steps and a hand clamps around his wrist.

Instinctively he freezes before jolting, ripping his hand from the grip and backing up from the person. It was the man he bumped into.

"I said I'm sorry, please leave me alone" his voice wavered, though it sounded bland and exhausted.

He turned again, instead of being stopped by a hand, he was stopped by words. "Kid" the voice was rough and sounded even worse off than him. There was this edge to his voice that brought some sort of comfort.

Stopping, he moved his head to stare at the stranger. Once he got to analyzing him, a name clicked in his head. Eraserhead. Not just a hobo trying to rob him, but an underground hero.

"What happened to you?" He asked as blunt as possible. Was it his clothes, or his hair? Oh wait. It was probably whatever Bakugo did to his face.

"Nothing"

"Clearly isn't nothing"

The words made him contemplate what to say. Lie? Or leave? He isn't suspicious of anything, or apart of a crime. Can't be stopped and brought in for nothing, or be questioned, because he's a minor, so he could just leave.

Those thoughts in mind, he was going to go. But the man's words caught his interest.

"I can help you with that wound"

The offer of help was so foreign to Izuku. No one would help him without expecting something in return. But that's what heroes do, right? Help people without expecting anything in return?

"U-uh.. I'm.." He couldn't properly articulate a sentence, too surprised by the offer of help. "..sure?" Sounding uncertain totally helped.

Not.

The underground hero moved forward, more like prowled over like a cat, as if any sudden movement would alert the prey. His footfalls were quiet, and barely registered in Izuku's ears. He tentatively grabbed something from a pocket in his black outfit, pulling the white object to his face.

Gauze, his mind registered, recognizing the object like second nature. He needed it so often that, from a glimpse, he could identify it instantly. Sad.

The right side of his face was covered, from the right corner of his mouth, upwards slightly diagonally. His eye on that side was also covered, not damaged, but among the mess of his face.

As the hero finished up, Izuku smiled lightly up at him. His graditude was obvious, and when he moved his hands away, he nodded in thanks.

"Thanks Eraserhead"

He turned and made it on his way back home, leaving behind the black haired male who seemed surprised at the teen recognizing him. Yes he is underground and it's hard to catch anything of him, but that doesn't mean there isn't anything.

That night he was fretted over by his mother and scolded for helping in the sludge villain incident. She also tried to ban him from observing the fights. Not like it worked.

She questioned the wound on his face, and he made the excuse that he fell and scraped his face. His mom bought it.

The next conversation was hard. And it took hours of convincing her.

For the rest of the school year, he will be Homeschooled.
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Published: Sept. 7, 2020