Eraserhead and Scribe V

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Scribe followed the unmistakable sounds of fighting that came from the center of the huge building. Somewhere in this building, the students of Class 1-A were hiding and fighting. But the fighting sounds in its center were what drew her.

She found him there, fighting for his life and the lives of those he had been charged to protect. His black hair flying, his eyes covered by goggles, Shota Aizawa fought off dozens of would-be villains, leaving them unconscious on the floor around him. Scribe watched helplessly as he smashed two anthropomorphic villains together and leapt away from a flame quirk. He was fierce and brave and splendid.

And then the skinny man with a shock of blue-white hair flung himself at Aizawa, his hand just managing to grip Aizawa's elbow before he was cast aside. But Scribe could see the blood and feel Aizawa's pain. A moment later, in the grip of the Nomu, Aizawa's arm was twisted back and the snap of it was like a twig. Scribe screamed and flung herself forward. She dropped to her knees in front of the skinny villain. "Please, Tomura, please stop!"

Tomura Shigaraki looked down at her. "Sure, pretty. For you." He made a sweeping motion and the Nomu disappeared, leaving Aizawa's crumpled body behind. Shigaraki held out a hand and pulled her to her feet and into his arms. "Let's dance, pretty."

And they did, on the macabre dance floor of scattered bodies. She didn't know why she let it happen. And then he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "The last time we danced like this, you asked me, remember?"

She pushed him away, one hand on his chest, trembling, wanting to reject the idea but the memory was there of how she'd leaned into his touch, relished it, even. He threw his head back and laughed, and it echoed through the suddenly vacant USJ...

***

Scribe startled awake, her heart pounding. That was the worst one so far.

The dreams had haunted her ever since she'd woken in the hospital a month before. Aizawa had told her everything that had happened, including that Shigaraki had, once again, worked with him to save her. Without his help, I might have lost everything.

But the connection between them was gone, Aizawa had said, watching her carefully for her reaction. Eri had rewound her to the point before her quirk had affected Shigaraki in order to undo the damage the doctor and her own quirk had already done to her brain. Theoretically, Shigaraki could now use his quirk on her as well, though she didn't want to try that one out.

Not that she needed to worry. Tomura Shigaraki had vanished. No one had heard from him since Aizawa met him in the parking lot near the hospital to tell him she was recovering. Scribe had not attempted to renew their connection, hoping Aizawa was right and it was gone.

But at night, the dreams came to her and she wondered. The memories had returned little by little. Eri might have rewound her physically and that had healed her mind, but it had not affected her memories.

And I'm still not sure what it did to my heart.

She pushed the thought away and sat up, looking at the clock. It was early. Aizawa was on an overnight training mission with the kids, but Eri was asleep in her bedroom just down the hall. She knew she should go back to sleep but she wasn't sure it was possible. She could go to the gym to workout. Eri wouldn't wake for at least another couple of hours.

Instead, she went to the kitchenette and made herself a cup of tea. She stared into its green depths and wished Aizawa was there. She wouldn't reach out to him, though. If he was asleep, he needed the rest. He didn't need to be disturbed by her fears and self-doubt.

I've done enough of that recently. I've got to get these nightmares under control.

They were always the same. Something horrible happening to Aizawa or one of the kids or Eri. And it was always Tomura Shigaraki who was doing it. Sometimes they were based on memories like the one tonight. Other times the horrible things that happened seemed to have come from some twisted imagination that was so foreign she couldn't believe they were born in her own brain.

What if they aren't? What if this is Tomura trying to reach out to me? But why would he do it in such a disturbing way?

Let's dance, pretty.

She still could only remember the day she'd spent with him in a very foggy way. She had no idea where they were, which she imagined was on purpose. Shigaraki couldn't have let her leave if she'd known where he was headquartered. He'd risked enough just by revealing to Eraser where Spinner had found her.

That's where the girl was. I went back when I found out a child was missing. Shota didn't know.

She still wasn't certain what had happened to the girl, but she'd gone back after she got out of the hospital with Aizawa and found no trace of her. Shigaraki said he took care of her. But what did that mean, anyway? If a villain told you he'd taken care of someone, the spectrum of meanings was vast. Even if it's a villain that loves you. She sighed a little, shaking her head. That sounds like a really bad movie.

A small hand slipped into hers and she looked down at Eri. The child leaned her sleepy head against Scribe's thigh. "Why are you up so early, Scribe-san?"

Scribe smiled and stroked the little girl's hair with her free hand. "I'm sorry, Eri-chan. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Is Aizawa-san okay?" Eri peeked up at Scribe.

"Aizawa-san is fine, sweetheart." Scribe lifted the girl into her lap and hugged her. "He'll be back this evening."

"Oh. Good." Eri snuggled into her lap, settling her head into the crook between Scribe's chin and shoulder. Her fingers played with Scribe's hair and she hummed a little tunelessly.

Scribe sighed and closed her eyes, content for a full minute before she remembered her earlier worries. What had Shigaraki meant when he said he "took care" of the little girl she'd unintentionally orphaned? Was the child really all right? And how could she find out without contacting an AWOL Shigaraki? She rocked Eri thoughtfully, but her mind was stuck on Tomura Shigaraki.

Let's dance, pretty.