Eraserhead and Scribe II

Eraserhead and Scribe II Chapter 2

Tomura Shigaraki had always hated everything. Everything but his master, who had been captured by All Might, and his small group of trusted associates. The rest of the world could go to hell for all he cared and he spent most of his time trying to figure out how to get it there faster.

But then there was Scribe.

At least half of him knew his life would be simpler if he just let her waste away and die. The wife of one of his own sworn enemies, a powerful hero in her own right who'd foiled at least two of his own schemes, a teacher at UA High...by all rights he should hate her. He should rejoice in her incapacity, and he, the leader of the League of Villains, definitely shouldn't be worried about helping her.

But that was Scribe for you. She'd gotten under his skin and he couldn't seem to get her out. She wasn't even like everything else that got to him—the day-to-day irritants that he wanted to flush out of his system and off the face of the earth. He didn't want to get rid of her.

Somehow the pain she caused him—the sinking feeling he got in his gut (and soul, if he admitted it) when he thought of her—was worth it.

He hadn't intended to cross paths with Eraser at the hospital, but he wasn't totally sorry he had. Even if he thought the man was wasting his time sitting around instead of trying to track down a solution to Scribe's illness, at least he'd filled in a couple of blanks for Shigaraki. The whole Murder Hornet story had never made sense. Murder Hornet was a two-bit thug with a poison quirk, sure, but Scribe was too smart to let the man get close enough to use it on her.

But something had gotten her, of that there was no doubt. Shigaraki cursed Eraser for letting it get to this point. How could he just sit there?

How could he have let it happen in the first place?

The frustration mounted in him until he entered the League's headquarters, a deserted, dusty warehouse, and kicked open the door to his own quarters. He drew up sharply at the sight of Dabi, Himiko and Spinner waiting for him.

"What's this?" He hissed the words, hoping to frighten them enough to get them the hell out, even though he knew it was useless. Himiko and Spinner might have enough sense at least to retire, but Dabi wasn't afraid of anything, least of all Shigaraki. Respect, yes. The two men respected each other, but Dabi saw Shigaraki as more of an equal than the others dared to.

And he knew about Scribe.

"Just checking in." Dabi leaned on the dresser, flipping a fireball casually into the air and catching it. "We were expecting orders for the new Nomu. Or for us. But so far, nothing."

"We just got back." Shigaraki walked deliberately past the patchwork fiend. "We did plenty of damage down south. We're good for now." He sat in a chair by the desk, leaning his elbows casually on his knees, his hands dangling between his legs. He raised his head and looked at Dabi. "What's the rush?"

"It was never my rush, Shigaraki." Dabi grinned. "I just thought you were ready to get rid of the world of heroes, to disabuse the masses of their sense of control." He caught the fireball and snuffed it out. "An admirable mission if ever I've heard of one."

Himiko giggled a little nervously. "We're just restless, Shigaraki, baby. We're not used to sitting still for too long."

"Good. Because I have a job for you." Shigaraki looked around at all of them, his gaze challenging them to doubt him. "Someone's disabled the hero Scribe. I want to know who it was."

Dabi raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Spinner spoke for the first time. "I thought that was Murder Hornet? They caught him right? And he admitted it?"

"You and I both know Murder Hornet isn't that strong. But someone who is? Or could make him capable of it?" Shigaraki shrugged. "Could be helpful, that's all." He glanced at Himiko. "You could be valuable here. Have any blood stored up that would let you take someone's place for a while?"

"Ooh, I hate to waste blood, but for you, Shigaraki, I'll do it." She smiled sweetly, licking her lips a little.

"Good." He turned to Dabi. "Any questions?"

Dabi just smiled a little. "Not at this point." He started for the door and glanced over his shoulder. "I'll let you know."

After they left, Shigaraki sat cross-legged on the bed. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, seeking the inner quiet his master had taught him about long ago. He found it, a flame deep in his inner self that flickered with each breath but never went out.

This was where he'd first found Scribe after their initial contact in the woods outside the school.

He reached for her now, searching the corners of his mind, hoping to feel even a trace of her presence. But she wasn't there.

Where are you?

He pulled himself slowly out of the meditation, aware only by the crick in his neck that he'd been in it for some time. He looked around at the darkened room and bowed his head. Who took you, pretty? Where are you now?

But no answer came to him and the feeling the meditation left him with was not peaceful or even resigned. The unfruitful search left him with only anger and determination.

I'll find you, pretty. I promise.