Erase Herゾごホ

晩ごはん - dinner

"Something actually smells good in here, color me impressed Shota." I hummed, slipping off my jacket as I stepped into the kitchen where the raven haired man was intently staring at the frying pan beneath him that was filled with an interesting mix of veggies and meat. His long and messy hair had been tied into a low hanging bun, the sleeves of his grey (not black) sweater were rolled up to his elbows, and his eyebrows were furrowed downward while he gently pushed his wooden spoon into the food with a loud sizzle.

"I'm starting to regret inviting you at all, (y/n)." He sighed, placing his cooking utensil down and wiping his hands on his jeans. I smirked, sliding into a bar stool across from him, on the other side of his kitchen island.

"We both know that's not true, now is it Aizawa-Sensei?" I teased, making his eyes narrow over me too quickly.

"Will you ever stop with that?" He asked tiredly, his expression gradually returning to that really sexy poker face he always wore. I spun around in my chair, ignoring his words with my shoulders shifting into a shrug. I have learned many things about the dashingly handsome Shota Aizawa. One being he had many kinks the paralleled mine quite nicely. For example, I liked to be tied up and he enjoyed doing the tying. Masochist meet Sadist. I've come to know everything that makes his insides twitch with pleasure. Of course this only made Shota itch to 'punish' me more however he saw fit. "Tell me about your showing." He requested, pulling me away from my own dirty thoughts. I stopped spinning, resting my head in my hands as I stared at him.

"What about it?"

"Well, what are you presenting?"

"Ah, my life's work of course." I answered, snapping a finger. "It's a piece of tech I developed to nullify certain blood cells that-. Well I won't bore you with the details, it basically stops unwanted quirk activations."

"I don't think that's boring." He replied, turning back to the pan on the stove, slowly stirring the mix once again. "Sounds like it will save a lot of lives, (y/n)."

"I'm hoping." I mumbled, my gaze floating down to my fingers as I inspected the dark red burns that laced around my skin, never allowing me to forget that day. "I want to prevent what happened to me from ever happening again."

"You'll be a hero."

"Huh?" I blinked. "Hero? I wouldn't go that far." I smiled sheepishly, running a hand through my (h/c) hair.

"Your support equipment will save someone's life one day." He said calmly, placing the pan down and turning off the stove. "And that is what heroes do." I glanced away, feeling a blush creep to my cheeks. I don't care about being a hero, I wouldn't even say what I'm doing is the work of a hero. I'm simply making someone's life a little easier, letting them sleep a little sounder at night. Things I wish were done for me. No one should have to live in fear from their own power. No one should ever go through what I did. Especially not a child. "Dinner is ready." A plate was placed gently down in front of me, as Shota sat across the counter with his own food. I picked up my chopsticks, tentatively poking the stir fry before taking a bite. God help me if I don't marry the fuck out of this man. I'm not sure if it's because he is the one fucking my brains out and maybe that makes me a little biased, but his food was the best thing I had ever eaten.

"Shota this is actually good." I said in between bites. He rose an eyebrow, stirring his own food with a sigh.

"You say that as if you're surprised."

"I am." I joked, swallowing my food. "Forget the hero business maybe you should've been a chef." Shota scoffed at my comment,

"Have you ever eaten anything that wasn't warmed by a microwave?" He asked. I tilted my head, thinking of all the lonely dinners I've had. Instant noodles, pizza rolls, and take out. I guess I haven't really had a home cooked meal in awhile. I frowned, my heart slowly sinking as I thought about my mom. She would always cook for me. Have I really missed out on this much?

"I guess my mom never got the chance to teach me." I said, laughing nervously. Shota nodded softly, realizing the subject he had happened upon was a touchy one and probably not sure how to change it. "Who taught you how to cook?" I intervened smoothly, allowing us to move on. 

"My father." He said plainly, I smiled, ignoring the pang of jealousy shooting through my chest. "Although, being a hero doesn't give me much time to do so." I rose an eyebrow, was this a chance to learn more of the ever-mysterious Shota Aizawa?

"Tell me about your work."

"What? About being a hero? I thought you hated it."

"True, but I don't hate you." I pointed at him with the chop sticks in between my fingers. He smirked, stretching his arms up with a small yawn.

"It isn't the greatest career to launch into." He admitted, leaning across the table slightly. "But it is something I have to do." I huffed, placing my chopsticks down.

"That was a subpar explanation, Shota."

"Not sure how else to explain it." He shrugged, making me roll my eyes.

"Okay, how about this? Tell me the best and worst part about being a hero." He seemed to think hard about my question, his lips pursed as his eyes shifted all over the room.

"There are more pros than cons." He pointed out firstly, "Too much good to narrow down the best." I sighed, opening my mouth to protest but he interrupted me. "The worst part though, is losing." I watched him as he spoke, his eyes dulling over as he seemed to be remembering instances, or scenarios where he had lost. "Watching the life pour out of someone's eyes, someone you could've saved, it is soul breaking." He had the same look on his face he did when we first met. Someone deep in their own thoughts, mulling over a sadness lurking within them, a darkness they couldn't control. "You'll think things like: Maybe if I was a stronger, faster, better hero. Maybe if I was someone like 'All Might' or 'Endeavor', maybe I would've saved them."

"Shota-."

"The things you'll see will keep you up at night." He whispered, "But the things you will think, will haunt you for the rest of your days. A chilling reminder of what you are and can never be." He scoffed at his own words, a small sad and empty smile playing on his lips. "Soul breaking."

"Then is it really 'Hero Work'?" I asked, not really thinking before speaking. When it came to things concerning 'Heroes', I was extremely passionate on my own views and didn't hold back my words. No matter how harsh they seemed. "If you save a life at the cost of your own morality no, your sanity, is it really the work of a 'Hero'?"

"Yes." He shot back without hesitating. "I would break my soul, over and over again to save someone elses." The look in his eyes shifted, his dark pupils weren't empty, they weren't greying at the edges. They were strong, overflowing with waves of courage that were ferociously lapping over the brim of his lid.

"You're stupid then."

"Maybe."

"But you are a hero."

"If you believe it."

"But will you be my hero?"

"I'll always be your hero, (y/n)."