Erase Herゾごホ

目を覚ます - wake up

"(Y/n), I'm here."

If there is a word for inexplicable terror I would likely use it here to better elaborate the feeling tearing through my chest at 5 AM on a Thursday night.

My eyes peeled open as I stared at the tired man who laid beside me. His hair messily spread against his cream colored pillowcase, his eyes half open, and his light pink lips pursed together out of concern as I slowly came to realize where I actually was. I was in bed. Not trapped underneath a falling building, not bleeding half to death with a little girl beneath me. I was in bed. The nightmares that plagued my sleep seemed to be worse than before, constantly waking me up at the odd hours of the night breaking morning. The doctor warned me of something like this happening, called it PTSD and inescapable. I try not to think of it too much, smothering my anxieties when I enter large buildings, swallowing my fear when I'm trapped in a smaller than normal space for longer than two seconds. That day had already stolen so much from me, I was dead set on not letting it rob me of my sanity too.  I exhaled shakily, reaching out and pressing my fingers against Shota's cheek to assure myself that I was, in fact, here. Of course, protecting my sanity seems to be easier said rather than done.

"Is the procedure worrying you?" He asked, leaning into my touch as I closed my eyes, feeling his cold skin against my open palm.

"Something like that." I sighed, thinking about how in a few hours I would be unconscious and in the hands of UA's very own 'Recovery Girl', the only competent doctor who agreed to do my simple, but risky, surgery. Recovery girl, or Ms. Shuzenji, isn't technically a surgeon and should not be performing the act I had begged her to do, but after being denied by every available doctor in all of Japan, I was placed in a kind of 'take it or leave it' situation. Of course, regardless of having the old woman cut me open and implant a chip I created, in a unfavorable turn out I could end out worsening my situation if the technology I made doesn't work and ends out doing the exact opposite. Amputation. No hope of ever walking again with my actual legs. I'd become a stump. Of course, prosthetics are a viable option but I want to be able to feel again. Does that make me greedy? To gamble away my own flesh over something so feeble?

"I'm sure Chiyo can handle a simple in and out implantation." Shota mumbled, rolling onto his back with a yawn. "I wouldn't put you in incompetent hands."

"I know, I know. I have faith is Ms.Shuzenji's abilities, I do." I began, my arms circling around Shota's bicep as I pulled myself closer to the man. "It's my own I'm worried about."

"If you say it will work, it will work." Shota stated bluntly, glancing over at me as I rested my chin on his shoulder. "You will walk again without a doubt." I laughed at him saying something so bold, so causally.

"And if the latter happens? If I have to cut them off?" I asked, making a scissor gesture with my fingers.

"Then you'll have the sexiest prosthetic legs known to man." Shota said, quite seriously making me snort at the remark, burying my face against his arm as he lifted a hand and held up a finger. "Actually, on second thought you'd probably put rockets on your legs or something..."

"Ha! Shota!" I laughed, leaning against him and staring at the ceiling. A silence fell between us as a blanket of fear thickened the air. Today was a big day, a worrisome one at that. I know I'm ready to risk it all, to get this over with for better or for worse, but I can't shake the lingering feeling that my chip will not work. My luck has been shit since the day I would walk, why would it all of a sudden flip to my favor now?

"How's work outside of teaching?" I asked, stirring up some kind of conversation that wasn't about me getting cut open and stabbed into. Shota hummed at the question, probably finding it strange that I would ask about hero work since I never really did. My line of work does require me to stay up to date with the hero and 'villain' side of the world, so I can pump out newer and fresher tech to counter whatever is terrorizing our livelihoods. I've only really recently started considering that though, to be honest. When I started down the career of a support technician, I only really thought of myself. I was desperate to find something to erase my quirk, to protect those I love from a power I couldn't control. As time went on, I thought why not make something for those who suffer from the same kind of issue? And that's was the end of my idea process. But, since meeting Shota and working with the students of 1-A, I believe my way of thinking has developed into something more. I now want to create equipment to aid the heroes I deem worthy, the protectors of tomorrow that have my trust. Shota has made me realize that not all heroes are scumbags and that maybe, just maybe, I can't put a little more faith in those who deserve it.

"Ah. Well, I do have something coming up.." Shota admitted, raising a hand in the air and out stretching his fingers with a sigh, "I might need to use that trump card  you talked about...what was it called... 'Harb..'."

"Harbinger." I answered, my face flushing red at the mere mention of it.

"You never told me what it is."

"Ah, well..." I began but stopped. There was too much to explain, too much to understand when it came to Harbinger. That and my lack of confidence it made it hard to keep my voice steady when talking to Shota about it. "It's better if I show you, maybe you can take it for a test run?"

"No clues or hints? Must be something pretty big."

"You could say that." I smiled, thinking of the better outcome if Shota ended out actually liking it. Shota flipped onto his side, cupping my face and kissing my nose.

"Why are you so cute?" He asked, his face reflecting no expression as he spoke, "I don't think I've ever met someone as cute as you." His tone lacked the normal softness a boyfriend would use when speaking to his girlfriend, his voice always remained flat and unwavering. I think that was one of my many favorite things about him. A tint of pink returned to my cheeks as he pressed his forehead against mine.

"S-S-Stop." I stuttered, feeling more and more flustered. Shota let out a hopeless kind of laugh that sounded more like an exhale of air before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest. We stayed like that for awhile, my face pressed again his skin as I listened to gentle whir of his breathing, his chin resting atop my head while his fingers lightly stroked the ends of my hair.

Maybe the god of this world doesn't hate me. Maybe they're desperately trying to fix the extraordinary unlikely things that constantly seem to happen to me. Because if I was hated by fate that much, I wouldn't be in Shota's arms right now. I smiled to myself, snuggling closer against the chill his cuddle provided.

"I've walked this planet for thirty one years with one goal in mind." He mumbled, startling me slightly. I pulled away to look up at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Which is?"

"To be a better person." He quietly responded, like he was terrified of the words. "To stop history from repeating itself, to save others from darkness." My lips parted at his statement, marveling at the courageous and selfless ideals Shota had. I've always known the kind of man Shota Aizawa was, the kind of hero he ended out being. A savior righting the many wrongs laid out in this unjust world, but hearing him blatantly say the things I only ever thought, made me just become a bit more enchanted by his personality. "But after thirty one years, I think that my end goal has finally changed."

"To what, Shota?" I asked, a bit more curious now since Shota would rarely ever talk about things related to his past. I never pried too much, just like he never did in return. It was an understanding between the two of us, that if we wanted to talk about the things that haunted us we would. Shota's eyes shifted down to my face as he adjusted himself to let a hand rest of my cheek as I could vaguely see the softest smile spread across his lips in the bedroom dimly lit by the rising sun.

"To being someone worthy of making you my wife."