King of the Jungle

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POV AIZAWA

"Not like we have anywhere better to go," Tomura scoffs. I'm not sure what to say, so instead I watch him drink. Tomura has a certain delicacy about him, a certain gentleness and gracefulness that I assume others don't notice. He holds the bottle with just his index, middle, and thumb fingers, the other two extending out so his quirk isn't activated. Not being able to touch anything with all five fingers since age six... It can't be easy. Quirks are as much of a curse as they are a blessing, if not more.

Then I remember what Tomura is drinking, and I quickly take the bottle from him. He looks at me slowly, a blush creeping onto his face. I don't want to break eye contact, but I'm panicking a little bit. I've never had to deal with a drunk villain before. I gently place the bottle down, raising my eyebrows. I don't make any sudden movements, similar to how I'd deal with a wild tiger. Though Tomura is much more like an abandoned kitten who, for some reason, assumes he's the king of the jungle.

"Eraserhead," he slurs, reaching his hand out. I quickly dodge, my breath hitching in my throat. He almost disintegrated me! When he swings his other hand, I jump out of my seat completely.

"Shit," I mutter as Tomura groans. I'm almost completely fucked– almost, because I get a sudden idea. I pat my cargo pants pockets, searching for Hiazshi's leather gloves. Once I find them, I grab Toga's knife from a shelf behind the bar and cut off the pinky and ring finger. Three fingered gloves. Perfect.

"You're really cool, Eraser," Tomura mumbles, stumbling to his feet. I curse again, not sure how the hell I'm going to get these gloves on him without dying. "Really, really cool. My master doesn't like you, but I like you a wholeeeee lot. You should be a villain with me. I could... we... What time is it? I need someone new to–hic–brush my hair. God, I'm such a loser... Wha- what? Make out? I'd love to..."

Before I can tease him, or even laugh, Tomura's eyes start to close. Before I know it, he's falling. I'm quick to catch him from behind, like a trust fall, and I carry him over to the couch, careful not to touch his hands. When he's situated, I start putting the gloves on him. It takes more time than it should, really, but I manage. Soon enough, Tomura's hands are death-proof. He's practically quirkless.

"Everything good?" Mr. Compress asks, strolling back into the room. He catches sight of me and Tomura and smiles. "You're a good man, Shouta Aizawa," Compress says. "I hope you'll stay around. We could really use a guy like you around here."

"I can't be a villain," I say, standing to my feet and attempting to brush the lint off my clothes. "It's not in me to hurt others. The opposite, actually. But I suppose... I suppose I could stop by every now and then. As long as it's kept under wraps."

Compress grins, taking a bow as if he's just finished a Broadway performance. "Of course. The honor is ours, sir."

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