Eraserhead and Scribe II

Eraserhead and Scribe Chapter 9

Shigaraki looked at the building in front of him for a moment, then at the address Eraser had texted him. It was undeniably the correct address, but far from where he would have anticipated a pro hero would want to rendezvous. The building was obviously abandoned and had been for...probably decades. He considered the cobwebs and dust covering the front stoop and wished he'd worn his jeans and hoodie instead of his suit. But nothing for it. They did need to meet somewhere no one would ever look for either of them.

This is definitely that place. He approached the door with less trepidation. Trust.

The door opened into a decrepit foyer. He walked in and closed the door carefully behind him. "Anybody home?"

Eraser appeared in the door to his left. "In here." He jerked his head toward the darkened room and disappeared again.

"Jeez, Eraser, you could be a little less—" Shigaraki broke off when a blow hit him in the chest, forcing the air from his lungs, and then Eraser had him pinned to the wall again, his arms bound by his sides, rendering his quirk as worthless as the blood red eyes that glowered at him through the dim light. He coughed uselessly, wanting to demand what the hell was going on, but unable to draw a full breath.

"What the hell have you done to her?" Eraser growled in his ear. "And why? She cared about you. She actually trusted you in some weird way. Why would you do this to her? Are you so sick you thought you could force her to love you?"

Shigaraki coughed again, turning his head to spit out blood. Eraser had hit him hard enough to break something. Dammit. How the hell had he let himself get caught off guard like that? He worked at getting his hands on the bindings. Eventually Eraser would have to blink and his quirk would be back, possibly just long enough to decay the binding scarf and give himself a fighting chance. But why were they fighting, anyway? "What...what are you talking about?"

"Did you think she wouldn't be able to get in touch with me? She's fighting you, dammit. She knows it's not right. She knows you're not right. She showed me what you were doing to her, you bastard. Tell me how you've done it and maybe I won't kill you." Eraser's voice actually trembled.

"You...she contacted you again?" In spite of everything, a ferocious hope lanced through him, almost painful in its intensity. He coughed again. Jesus, did he break a rib? Or is it this damn scarf?

Just as he asked it, he managed to get all five fingers on the scarf and felt it begin to crumble. Eraser recovered quickly, but it was enough. Shigaraki felt the bindings loosen and he flung them aside, spinning away from Eraser, his quirk erased again but at least able to breathe. "Don't!" He held up a hand when he saw Eraser gather the remains of his scarf.

"Give me one reason why not." Eraser raised the hand holding the scarf looped around his arm and ready. Shigaraki had no doubt the other man was ready to kill him. Strangle him with the scarf or his bare hands, he wasn't sure it mattered.

"Because I didn't...didn't do what you think I did. Or am doing." Shigaraki shook his head. "And I'm actually thrilled to hear she made contact with you and is fighting it. Whatever it is."

"Aizawa, wait." Another voice sounded from behind Aizawa.

Shigaraki sucked in a sharp breath. "All Might?"

The skeletal remains of what had once been the hero Shigaraki hated the most emerged from the shadows. "Hello, Shigaraki."

Shigaraki laughed. "Jesus, you look awful."

"Funny, I've never seen you look better." All Might barely glanced at him, though, his eyes trained on Eraser. "We should hear him out."

"Yeah, you definitely should." Shigaraki doubled over, still trying to catch his breath. "You seem to have forgotten rule number one, Eraser." At Eraser's frown, he supplied, "Trust! You forgot trust. I didn't do whatever it is you think I've done." He paused, then added, "Is she really getting stronger?"

Eraser lunged at him, pinning him to the wall with one hand, and Shigaraki noticed he'd even forgotten to erase his quirk in his rage. He could easily raise his hand to Eraser's own throat and be rid of the irritating hero once and for all. And the powerless All Might would present no real challenge. He could walk out of the room and back to his own life with no problems, even wounded.

But where would that leave Scribe?

So he held his hands out to his side, palms up in surrender. "I'm only here to help her, Aizawa. I swear it."

Eraser's eyes narrowed at the use of his name, but then he jerked away as if physically repelled by the other man. "If it's not you, then who?"

"I have no idea, I swear." Shigaraki moved a little further away from Eraser, finding a dusty chair and sinking into it. He shifted a little when pain shot through his chest. "Ow. I think you broke a rib." He glared at Eraser. "Why would you think I had anything to do with hurting Scribe?"

Eraser's expression was grim, his eyes full of scorn. "Because I saw you."