Eraserhead and Scribe V

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

By the time Aizawa brought a sleepy Eri into their apartment, Scribe had gone to bed. Aizawa put Eri to bed alone. He pulled the covers up over the child and she looked at him anxiously. "Is Scribe-san all right?"

"She's just very tired from today." Aizawa stroked a bit of the child's hair back from her face. "She needed some extra rest."

"Good." Eri rolled over and snuggled into the pillow. "I don't want her to go away again."

Me either. Aizawa left the room, pulling the door closed gently behind him. He faced his own bedroom door, wondering if she even wanted him to come in.

I do.

Her voice made him smile, even if it did mean she was listening in on his thoughts. It was reassuring at least that she wanted to see him and was ready to talk. He opened the door and found her sitting on the edge of their bed. She looked up and he knew what she was going to say.

"I remember all of it." She met his gaze.

"I know." He closed the door gently behind him. "I don't blame you for any of it, my love. Anything that...that happened."

She smiled a little. "That didn't happen."

"I wasn't going to ask." He sat next to her, taking her hands in his.

"But it does matter. Because it's not because of me that it didn't happen."

He stiffened a little. Then Shigaraki wasn't lying. He didn't take advantage of her. And he could have.

What was it he'd said? I'm not interested in...in that. Aizawa smiled grimly. Liar.

He sighed, still holding her hands. He examined the one that wore his ring. Then he lifted it to his lips and kissed it. "I love you."

"I love you." There was no hesitation in her reply. But then her hands tightened on his and he looked up. "But I can't lie to you or myself any longer, Shota. I love you. My heart is yours and I will never, ever betray you. But..." She looked down for a second as if to gather strength.

He stopped her from speaking only by drawing her close and kissing her. He knew what she had to say. He stopped the words with his lips, but he tasted them on her tongue. He drew away, feeling as if he'd hit the pause button on a bullet that would pierce his own heart any second. Then he nodded and said the words himself. "But you love Tomura Shigaraki, too."

***

Hours later, exhausted and spent emotionally, Scribe fell asleep in Aizawa's arms, grateful she could still take shelter in him.

She opened her eyes on the beach near her store. She stood in her white sundress and bare feet looking out at the ocean. A hand touched her shoulder and she turned, expecting to find Aizawa there.

Tomura Shigaraki held up a single white rose. Its thorns pricked his skin and blood flecked the perfect white petals. "Don't you want it, pretty?" He grinned, but his face and hair were streaked with blood, his bare chest covered in it.

Scribe didn't hesitate. She stepped forward and put one hand behind his neck, pulling him into an embrace. And when she backed away from him, they stood in her apartment above the bookstore. The shadows were comforting, the clutter of books and shelves familiar to them both. Shigaraki staggered back and looked around, then breathed a soft sigh as if of relief. He looked back at her. "Thank you."

Don't thank me yet. She moved carefully away from him. I brought you here for a reason. She paused, looking at him critically. The blood was gone and he wore a white shirt unbuttoned at the neck and partly tucked into his black pants. You look better than the last time you were here.

He looked down at himself. I guess that part is over. He held out one arm, turning it over and looking at it as if it weren't his own arm. Or as if he was surprised it was still there.

Scribe sat on the edge of the sofa. She looked at her hands and then back at him. I love you.

He looked up, startled. What?

I love you. She said the words calmly. I don't honestly know why or how it happened, but somehow in the mess of everything that the doctor did to me, that Hina did, and that I did to myself, I love you. She met his gaze. But make no mistake, Tomura, I will fight you with everything I have. She paused and then nodded. Even this.

His astounded expression tightened into anger. You mean you'll use your love to fight me?

I mean I will do everything in my power to keep you from destroying everything I love. I don't know what it is you've done to yourself—or allowed to be done to you—but it's to end the world of heroes, right? She stood and took a step toward him. You told me once everything you do is for our love. How will ending the world of heroes be for our love?

Because then you'll just be a person and so will I! He reached for her hand, caught it and held it in both of his. If we're not hero and villain, we don't have to be enemies.

Her heart caught in her chest for a second. Oh, Tomura. She took another step toward him so they stood within inches of each other, their clasped hands between them. She lifted her free hand to brush back his shaggy hair. Don't you know I've always thought of you as a person?

He leaned into her touch for a moment, then released her, turning away, his head bowed. The girl is safe. I promise.

I need to see for myself, Tomura.

He glanced over his shoulder, his white hair not quite hiding his mocking grin. Still don't trust me, eh, pretty?

She looked at him calmly, not trying to defend herself because there was nothing to defend. He sighed. Fine. The nurse's name is Ichika. She works at the hospital you were in after Murder Hornet. She's the way I got into your room. She's helped with a few other things, too, but she doesn't work for me or the Paranormal Liberation Front. She just...just heals.

Scribe was temporarily surprised by his defense of the nurse. She remembered the way Spinner had described her as one of the few Shigaraki trusted. She nodded. Okay.

Meaning you won't cause her any trouble? He looked at her suspiciously.

Not if there's no reason to. Scribe raised her eyebrows. Still don't trust me, either?

His mouth quirked a little and he inclined his head. Touché. He looked around himself and closed his eyes for a moment as if trying to commit the apartment to memory. Scribe reminded herself they weren't in her apartment. They were in her mind.

Tomura, what is it you've done?

He opened his eyes. Nothing special, pretty. His gaze sharpened. But like you I'll use everything at my disposal to win this war. He bowed. Thanks for the respite. Guess I'll be seeing you.

She took a step toward him, but before she could reach out, he was gone.