Third person pov
Two weeks into Izuku being there, Shota wakes up to the sound of sniffling.
Izuku hadn't talked again, and Shota hadn't tried to make him. He'd just patted the boy on the back, bowing his head and murmuring apologies to him. Izuku hadn't cried over it-- he never did. He just peered off into the corner, fiddling with the ears of his teddy bear idly. Their days passed leisurely and in quiet, with Izuku spending his nights tucked into Shota's side and his mornings unsupervised despite Shota's best efforts.
He sneaks out of bed without fail. Only once had Shota woken up before him. The kid refused to wake him up no matter how many times Shota asked and insisted. He hadn't caused any trouble, but it was disconcerting to wake up to the sound of the bath tub running, or to the smell of food cooking. He still hadn't adjusted, his panic always spiking, his mind jumping to the worst case scenario.
There's little word from Tsukauchi on the case. They have a few suspects, but Aizawa can't get involved-- not unless he wants to put Izuku directly in the line of fire. They spend their days going out for ice cream and walking around parks. They explore the mall again, but hang out in the living room for the most part. Izuku seems to enjoy his coloring books, careful to keep in the lines and smiling when Shota hangs them on the fridge.
So, it is a surprise to be woken up at all. He doesn't think it's the sniffling that does it. No-- no, it's the voice. There's a voice. In his house, in his room. And it's not his or Izuku's.
"I know. Shhh, it's okay. You're okay." It soothes in a quiet, tender murmur. It's familiar somehow, but in a vaguely distant and fuzzy way, clouded by sleep. It's distinctly male, and painfully fond. "It's okay, Izuku. You're alright. I'll look out for you, and so will Sho. He loves you already, did you know that? He thinks you're wonderful, and so do I. You're the cutest, smartest kid ever."
The lamp flickers in the corner. The room is freezing cold.
"I know the nightmares are scary. You went through too much." Movement from the corner of his eye, but the light blinks out before he can get a real look. Izuku's not tucked into his side like he usually is, and Shota catches only a flash of his teary face as his sleep-muddled mind struggles to process. There's a hand running through the boy's hair that he seems to lean into. "I'll protect you now, though! I always wanted a little brother, or a kid of my own one day. Did you know that? And now I have you! I'm glad to have a friend like you. It's a dream come true, really."
Shota bolts upright fast enough to give himself vertigo, hand flying for his capture weapon as reality sinks in. Adrenaline shoots through him sharply. The light flickers back on, illuminating the room softly. Shota's breathing is hard in his own ears, his heart pounding deafeningly. His eyes scan the room for a sign of the person he's so certain was there, straining to listen. There was a voice. He's sure of it.
Izuku gives another sniffle, not appearing worried in the slightest. Aizawa scoops him up and drags him into his chest, backing up until he's against the wall. He scans the room, hand clenched around his capture weapon so tightly his knuckles are white. Fear shakes him, and he holds Izuku as close as he can.
There's no noise. It's almost eerily silent, no hint of the voice or presence from before. He's certain he heard it. It had been quiet but there. And the hand-- the hand in Izuku's hair. It had been tan and a little calloused, too big to belong to a child. Shota breathes out a ragged breath. Izuku turns his face into his chest, tiny nose pressing into his shirt, but he doesn't seem particularly afraid.
The unnatural chill in the air is gone even though Shota can vividly remember the cold biting into his face and skin mere moments before. He swallows thickly, blinking rapidly as his breath finally returns to him. His gaze snaps down to Izuku, who peers back up at him with red-rimmed eyes. He doesn't look hurt or worried. The quiet voice from before whispers at the back of Shota's mind like a taunt.
"Izuku." His voice shudders a little. "Who was that?"
Izuku sniffles a little, wiping at his eyes. He doesn't say anything. Shota doesn't sleep again for the rest of the night.
It doesn't matter where he checks or what he does. There's no signs anyone came in. The security system didn't register anyone coming in through any of the windows. His balcony and front doors remained locked. Nothing is disturbed, or missing, or broken. Yet he knows, he knows he's not crazy. He didn't imagine it.
The lights flicker and it seems more ominous than ever. He spends the night propped up against his headboard, Izuku asleep in his lap, Shota's arms wrapped loosely around him as though to protect him from any possible harm. His ears strain, searching for the hauntingly familiar voice he'd heard but can't quite place no matter how hard he tries. Izuku sleeps soundly, curled into his usual ball.
The next day is tense. Shota's tired, dozing on occasion only to snap awake, always expecting to hear someone speaking or to see an unwelcome figure. He never does. It's always just Izuku, who Shota spends the day unnaturally close to. The kid doesn't seem to mind, to his credit. He sits as near as Shota wants him to, leaning against his side and staring into the corner.
They leave the house that day, going out to the park. Shota pushes Izuku on the swings and sits with him in the sandbox, ignoring the mothers who titter and flutter their lashes his way. Without a child, he looks homeless and suspicious. Sitting and playing with one, apparently he's just a tired single father trying his best. He wishes he knew how it worked.
"Izuku." Aizawa says on their way back to the apartment, the kid propped on his hip. He picks his words carefully. "Can you please tell me who was in the apartment? He was your... friend, right? He helped you after your nightmare?"
Izuku doesn't answer, but his lips do curl into one of those small smiles he gets sometimes. Somehow, it isn't reassuring. Shota pulls the kid close that night before he even gets the chance to roll over, locking him in his arms defensively.
There's no voices, no hands in Izuku's hair or vague forms in the flickering light. Shota wakes up and Izuku is still in his arms, and something in his heart settles. He takes a deep breath and sinks into the warmth of his bed, loosening his grip on the kid slightly as sun peeks through the windows.
He pauses only when he realizes he's been humming, a nameless tune-- one he swears he hears only as he drifts to sleep. He swallows thickly and tries his best to dispel the wordless song from his head. Shota tells himself it's nothing. That he's stressed, with Izuku still being targeted, and that it's been getting to him. Taking care of such a small child is scary when they're always wandering off without supervision.
(He knows deep down that he's wrong. He pretends he isn't.)
~~~~
"Oh my god." Hizashi all but whimpers, hands shaking as he peers down at Izuku's small form on the couch. "I thought Tsukauchi was lying."
"Why would he lie?" Shota asks grumpily, still nursing his morning coffee. He shoots daggers at the back of the blonde man's head from his place in the kitchen. "Izuku's been under my care for three weeks now. It's not a big deal."
And it's really not, excusing all the terrifying shit. Izuku's a great kid. Shota knows he shouldn't get attached, but it's kind of hard not to, you know? He's not as ashamed to admit it as he thought it'd be. Izuku's cute, and he's good, and he just seems as great as a kid can get. If Shota was going to have any child in his home, this is the exact one he'd want. He struck gold in that department.
Now, the humming at night, the flickering lights, the mysteriously made food and the baths? Those are... disconcerting, sure, but that has nothing to do with Izuku's personality and character. All those things-- barring the voice and hand-- can be explained at least somewhat rationally. He knows he must be missing something big, he just isn't sure what that something is yet. He doesn't think it's... dangerous. If it was going to hurt either of them by now, it probably would've.
"Hi, little listener." Hizashi awed, looking damn near reverent as he squatted down to be on Izuku's level. The boy blinked curiously. "I'm Hizashi Yamada, Shota's best friend. I cannot believe he's been hiding a little cutie like you in here! Is this why you haven't been on patrol?"
"I go back soon. Someone will have to watch him." Shota grunted. It was unlike him to be so reluctant to get back to his usual patrol schedule, but just staying at home with Izuku, doing paperwork... it had been nice. Easy and leisurely. He knew his patrols would be shorter and his time apart from the kid wouldn't be huge as a result, but he still felt unsure about the whole thing.
He'd been out of the streets too long, though. He needed to get back to it. He still did his daily workouts-- often with Izuku sitting on his back as he did his push-ups-- so it's not like he'd lost any muscle, but he couldn't let himself get rusty. He had a job to do, an allotted zone to protect and patrol. If word got out that Eraserhead was really out of the field, crime would start to spread. It likely already had.
"I volunteer." Hizashi said immediately, head whipping his direction so fast it was startling. Izuku wasn't looking at the man anymore, but instead at the space next to him. He was smiling a little. "Please, god, let me watch him. I will literally die if I'm not within the same vicinity as him. I can't believe you got a child this cute and didn't tell me. Have you seen him? He's perfect!"
He was right-- Izuku was perfect. That was exactly why Shota hadn't wanted to share him. This worked out though, didn't it? Hizashi was a trusted friend. He was good with kids, most of his marketing geared towards them. Though a little loud and overwhelming at time, Izuku had shown time and time again he had no issues with strangers. Enough women pinched his cheeks in public for that to be certain.
Still, he'd have to warn Hizashi about some of the oddities following the kid. Just to make sure he didn't freak out or something. He was the superstitious type, that's for sure. With the flickering lights, floating items thanks to Izuku's quirk, and unidentifiable humming-- well, it almost seemed like the apartment was haunted or something. Which was an incredibly illogical assumption, but Hizashi had always been quick to fall into hysterics.
Hizashi was quick to launch into dramatic story-telling. Izuku seemed enamored with it. He only glanced away from Hizashi a few times, his gaze darting off to the side before returning to the man. He allowed himself to get picked up, not showing any signs of discomfort as Hizashi gave him a squeezing hug, pressing his cheek right up against Izuku's freckled one and squealing.
"I'm going to die. I can't believe you were holding out on me." Hizashi groaned, collapsing back onto the couch with Izuku cradled in his arms like a baby. "He's perfect. I adore him. You must keep him forever."
"You're acting like he's a puppy." Shota snorted, reluctantly amused. Izuku's gaze trailed off into the distance again, his focus still sharp. If he wasn't zoning out, what was he doing? Shota should talk to Tsukauchi about getting the kid a therapist of some kind. If it was even safe to.
"He practically is. Have you seen his eyes? It should be illegal for them to be that big and round." Hizashi cooed, cradling him close. "You and I are going to get along great, Izuku. You're my new favorite person. Shota's been demoted. Everyone's been demoted to make space for you. I've literally never seen any child this precious before in my entire life."
Shota hid his smile with another sip of coffee. He'd never admit how much he agreed.
~~
Shota's first patrol back in the field is full of anxiety and potent worry. If not for Hizashi texting him constant updates with photographic evidence every ten minutes, too enthusiastic for his own good, he'd probably have some kind of heart attack. He had no idea why being away from Izuku was effecting him so badly. It was irrational, this fear of his, yet he just couldn't shake it.
His patrol started at seven in the evening and would end at midnight. Far from the longest shift he'd ever taken, but enough for him to get some real work in. He tried to throw himself into it and focus, but it was hard to when his mind kept wandering back to Izuku. Even with the photos and reassurances from his friend, it's just not the same as being there.
Yet, things still go on without a hitch. Hizashi puts Izuku down for the night and sits in the room with him, doing paperwork to pass the time and only ever leaving the room for very short periods of time. Shota's able to come home, gets ribbed for caring as much as he does, and is able to slip into bed with Izuku and promptly pass out. He's out so fast he doesn't even notice any humming this time around.
Izuku migrates into his side but inevitably wakes up before him. The pattern repeats itself. Hizashi is overjoyed with his new babysitting duties, bringing in more toys than Shota has room for and all manner of books. Shota can't believe he hadn't thought of that sooner. Books and worksheets-- kids his age were in preschool of some kind, right? At least for part of the day? Not doable with someone still after him, but that doesn't mean they can't do things at home.
Hizashi is an avid babysitter. He brings matching pajamas for them all to wear. He keeps bringing Shota #1 Dad paraphernalia, and Shota can't bring himself to throw any of it away. The routine they sink into is easy, and Shota gets comfortable with every day that passes. At least, until he comes home to find Hizashi pensively waiting for him, sitting in a contemplative silence with an odd look on his face.
"What happened?" He asks immediately. Hizashi purses his lips, hesitating.
"I'm... not really sure, actually. You said his quirk is telekinesis, right?" Hizashi scratched the back of his neck. Shota nodded slowly. "Well, I was in the bathroom and heard him starting to have some kind of nightmare. Whimpering and thrashing, yah dig? Not the first time. Normally I just come rub his back and he calms down, but this time I didn't get there soon enough, and..."
He trails off, brows furrowed. Shota feels his heart sink. The memory of the voice comes back unbidden, the one he'd shoved to the back of his mind when he hadn't been able to find evidence of anyone ever having been there. He takes a deep breath to stop himself from spiraling.
"Did you hear any voices?" He asks carefully. The relief he feels when Hizashi shakes his head is immense.
"Maybe some humming, but you know my hearing isn't the best even with my aids in." Hizashi taps them, frowning. "No, I heard him stop whimpering right when I got there. When I peeked in, he was... being rocked? Rocking himself, maybe, in his sleep? It looked like someone was holding him, Sho. It was... weird. Like someone had picked him up and was trying to comfort him or something."
Quirks activating in one's sleep wasn't uncommon, especially in children, but to rock himself like that? Shota gnawed at the inside of his cheek absentmindedly, thoughts whirring. He'd always thought there might be more to Izuku's quirk, or that he may be missing something. With Izuku refusing to speak it was just impossible to say. The boy kept communication minimal.
Clearly Izuku was okay, though. Shota could see him through the doorway, steadily breathing, his teddy bear tucked close. He looked at peace wrapped in his beloved cloud blanket, the one that reminded Shota so clearly of better days. He ignored the uncomfortable, foreboding feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, instead turning back to Hizashi. The man looked a little shaken but okay otherwise.
"There's a lot about his quirk we don't understand. The villains... they wanted him for a reason." Shota allowed. "Whatever's going on, it's not hurting anyone. All we can do is keep an eye on it. Maybe he'll be able to tell us one day when he's ready."
Hizashi hummed his agreement, though his slight frown remained. Shota pulled Izuku close that night, closing his eyes and taking a breath. The kid slept soundly in the crook of his arm. Shota stared at his ceiling until he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, a faint humming lulling him to into a restful sleep.
He dreams of a bright blue sky full of clouds.
~~~~~~
Shota hadn't realized just how brilliantly Izuku could smile, not until the hellion that is Katsuki Bakugo stepped into his apartment.
Mitsuki and Masaru Bakugo were close friends with Inko Midoriya, and that friendship had translated into their children, who'd been together since they were infants. They'd been pushing to see Izuku ever since they were informed he was found alive and safe, ceaseless in their badgering. Tsukauchi had finally been worn down. Despite the risks, the visit had been granted, and now Shota couldn't bring himself to regret it.
Izuku's face had just about split in two the moment Katsuki stepped through the door. He'd been anxiously vibrating all day, and Shota'd mistaken it for fear. Now Shota could see that it was only just anticipation and excitement. The entire room brightens, and Izuku's eyes alight with something so brilliant Shota can't bring himself to look away.
It's nothing like the small, infrequent smiles he usually gives. It's big and bold and alive, and Shota wishes he could see it all the time. Izuku deserves that level of joy as a constant. And if the only place he can get it right now is from a literal demon masquerading as a child? So be it. Shota will take the risk of apartment fires and the constant stream of cursing if it means Izuku gets to be happy for even just a moment.
Katsuki is a carbon copy of his mother, who's just as brash and bullheaded as her son, but still thanks him for looking out for Izuku nonetheless. She curses every other sentence and is loud by nature, but Izuku greets her with a big hug and Shota can see how much the woman cares from the way she scoops him up, burying her face in his curls and letting out a shaky breath, like he's one of the most valuable things in the world.
Masaru Bakugo is much more demure, with a pair of square glasses that make him look all the more fatherly. He holds Izuku gently, murmuring soft things to him for a moment and planting a kiss on his head until Katsuki's incessant yanking on his shirt and demands to put Izuku back down get to be too much. The two boys race off to the living room, Katsuki jabbering endlessly about how he'll beat up any villains who dare try to take him again.
As much as Shota didn't want to deal with the overbearing Bakugo couple, he couldn't deny that they were an absolute treasure trove of information about his charge. It was all insights that Shota absorbed greedily. They had insider knowledge Shota likely never would've gotten otherwise.
"The staring isn't new." Mitsuki confirmed. They were all sat in the living room, the pair of boys tucked into the corner. Katsuki was whispering, but Shota couldn't tell if Izuku was whispering back. He felt irrationally jealous at the thought that he might be. "He's done that since he was a baby. Inko didn't talk about it much, but we always got the impression that it had to do with his quirk or some shit like that."
"Katsuki knows more than we do. They're attached at the hip, you know." Masaru's voice was tinged heavy with fondness. "His quirk... we know he has one, but they've always been secretive about it, even to us. We've only seen it at play a few times. We're still not entirely sure what it is, but with Katsuki and Izuku wanting to be hero partners one day... well, Katsuki always insists that Izuku will solve the crime and that he'll beat up the villains who did it."
They all turn to peer at the boys, who look like they're in their own little bubble. Katsuki whispers fast and hard, with elaborate hand motions and plenty of enthusiasm. It's odd to see Izuku actually nodding or shaking his head for once. Shota watches a tad wistfully, his chest swelling with warmth. He should take a picture. Hizashi will be upset he missed this.
"Solve crimes..." Shota trailed off, frowning. He turned to look back at the Bakugos. "Why not defeat villains? Telekinesis is a versatile quirk."
The couple looks confused, their brows furrowed.
"He doesn't have a telekinesis quirk." Mitsuki said with certainty, and Shota paused. "Like we said, we don't know what it is, it just... well, it sure as shit isn't telekinesis."
"It lets him know things, sometimes. Things he should have no way of knowing." Masaru offered mildly. Shota's brain worked overtime trying to put together all the puzzle pieces. "Odd things happen around him. I suppose you've seen floating items, but he says it's not him, and I'm inclined to believe him. Izuku's a very honest boy. He does talk to himself, sometimes-- imaginary friends, we think. Katsuki says they're real and that Izuku is the only who can see them, but..."
"They're four." Mitsuki shrugged. "They believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny too."
Shota nods slowly, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He thinks about the humming. The voice, and the food that cooks itself, and the cup pouring water over Izuku's head in the tub. He thinks about Izuku being rocked in the air and about the lights flickering. He thinks about that hand, tanned and calloused, running gently through Izuku's soft curls.
He takes a deep breath. What does that all mean? If Izuku's not doing that, who is? Is there someone else in his apartment? Shota sure hasn't been the one cooking breakfast. His eyes trail over to where Izuku sits. He wishes he could just ask, but he knows that's not how this is going to work. Could the little blonde demon share something? He'd probably sooner kick Shota in the balls than tell him jack shit.
They chat for a little longer, but Shota's mind is far away. He can't stop the way his eyes trail over to Izuku. The little boy looks happy all huddled up next to his friend despite said friend's aggressive attitude. Neither of the Bakugos say anything when he sneaks his phone out for a picture, shooting it off to Hizashi. They just smile knowingly.
The only real issue came when it was time for them to go. Katsuki stood, utterly unimpressed, Izuku's hand in his and his brows raised practically up to his hairline. Like he'd come here not able to so much as fathom the thought that they would eventually have to leave. The lights flickered overhead, almost as though reacting to the uncertain anxiety that was clear on Izuku's face.
"And why the fuck can't he go with us?" Katsuki asked flatly, though the sparking of his free hand gave away his growing agitation. "You're his godparents or whatever, right? That means he gets to come home."
"Katsuki." Masaru was quick to jump in before Mitsuki could so much as open her mouth, squatting down to be on his son's level. Katsuki immediately looked ten times more defensive, narrowing his eyes like he could smell that this wasn't an argument he was going to win. "Remember what we told you? Izu-kun has to stay here for a little longer for his safety, and for ours. The villains who took him are still after him. Mr. Aizawa here is a hero and can protect him if anyone tries to hurt him again. You want him to be as safe as possible, don't you?"
And Katsuki, the little shit, immediately looked upset. Which Shota supposed he could understand. This was Izuku they were talking about. Shota would want to wrap him up and take him home too. Shota didn't have to be kid-savvy to sense the oncoming tantrum that was brewing. It was evident in the growing redness of Katsuki's face and in the way his hand tightened around Izuku's.
Mitsuki let out a heavy sigh, and Masaru's face twitched against a forming wince as Katsuki's tiny face grew thunderous. Aizawa's expression didn't change as Katsuki whipped his head in his direction, glaring up at him like this was all his fault somehow. Shota just stared back impassively, arms crossed over his chest and feeling rather nonplussed by the display. The brat looked about as threatening as a wet kitten.
"If he's a hero, then why the fuck haven't I heard of him? And why's he look like he crawled out from under a bridge?" Katsuki snapped out, though the warble in his voice and his knuckle-white grip on his friends hand told of the possibility of tears. "If this guy can protect him, so the fuck can I! I bet--"
Izuku gave his friend's hand a slight yank, silencing him. Katsuki swiveled around at met his best friend's small smile with a glower. It was like watching a friendly puppy face up against a particularly hissy cat. The lights flickered some more, and Katsuki sent them a sour look as well, huffing.
"It's okay, Kacchan." Izuku's voice was so quiet Aizawa had to strain to hear it. Shota immediately felt his heart crack open, warmth flooding his chest unbidden. His lips twitched into a smile without his really meaning them to. "I-I don't mind staying here with Mr. Shozawa. H-He's very nice."
Mr. Shozawa. Shota felt a part of him turn over and positively die. If he'd thought his heart was in danger before, it had melted by now. He felt his cheeks pinken slightly, and he cleared his throat to try and smother his smile. If Masaru's amused look was anything to go off of, he wasn't doing a very good job. Could anyone really blame him? Hizashi was going to be so pissed he wasn't here to witness this.
Katsuki searched Izuku's open expression, seeming to ignore the way Shota was crumbling over to their right. The lights gave another flicker, and Katsuki clicked his tongue, shooting a glance up at them again and frowning. It was obvious he didn't want to give in, but it was just as obvious that he wasn't going to fight his friend either. Shota guessed he could see how their dynamic worked. He was glad fate had given him the nicer of the pair.
"...Fine." He grumbled, releasing his friend's hand. He gave Aizawa an accusing look. "If anything happens to him it's your ass, though. And I'm coming to see him again, so you better not try to take him away."
Shota didn't give much of a response, still sort of reeling from the whole Shozawa thing. The two kids hugged for a long time. Katsuki was reluctant to let go. The last time he had, he'd probably woken up only to be told his best friend had been taken from him. Aizawa could understand why he was upset. Months thinking he was probably dead, and then he shows back up but he's staying with some scruffy stranger, and the brat's hardly allowed to visit? Aizawa supposes he'd be upset too, especially if he were four years old.
Mitsuki and Masaru scooped the freckled boy up for one last hug too, holding him between them like he was their own, telling him to call if he needed anything and that they loved him, and were so glad he was safe. Izuku teared up a little, sniffling when Mitsuki told him they'd saved all his and his mom's stuff, so he didn't have to worry about a thing. They hadn't thrown a single thing away. It was all waiting for him as soon as he was ready.
The apartment's silence seemed especially striking as the small family filtered out. Katsuki embraced Izuku one last time, and nobody mentioned the way he seemed to shake a little when he did. Izuku, to his credit, hugged him back just as hard. Shota could tell that their visit had lightened something in his green-haired charge, though, and he was reluctantly grateful they'd harassed Tsukauchi into letting them come.
Izuku peered up at him, the lights in the kitchen behind him flickering. Shota didn't stop himself from smiling down at him. Izuku's lips curled up in response, and he raised his arms up in a request to be picked up. Shota's grin widened.
"You're pretty nice too, kid." He scooped him up, cradling him in the crook of his arm. "What do you say to pizza and a movie, hm? Hizashi's going to be pretty mad he missed all that. We should celebrate."
Izuku actually gave him a nod this time, though his gaze did wander into an empty part of the room again. Shota gave into the impulse and pressed a kiss to the top of the kid's head, pulling out his phone to place his order. A simple cheese and pepperoni would do just fine.
~~~~
Shota had known the Bakugos visiting was a risk, but he hadn't really thought about what that might mean until two nights later when Izuku was being ripped from his arms in the middle of the night.
Shota's eyes flew open at the shriek of fear the kid let out. He shot up, awake in an instant, just in time to see a dark figure carry a sobbing Izuku out the door, one hand clapped over his mouth to keep him from screaming again. The kid's eyes were glowing like a pair of flashlights, terrified and with tears already falling as he was dragged out into the hallway. Aizawa felt his heart stop in his chest.
A blow struck Shota right in the temple, taking him by surprise and sending him careening to the side. He cursed, stumbling, heart pounding and fear coursing chillingly through his veins. The lights were flickering violently, disorienting him just as much as they were his attacker. He lashed a foot out blindly, head spinning in a way that made it seem like the whole room was atilt. Probably a concussion.
Shota heard Izuku scream again and his eyes flared red, mind kicking into gear. The air smelt damp and of ozone, and the sounds of a scuffle in the other room were clear. There was a crash and the sound of shattering glass, and he could hear muffled shouting through the ringing in his ears. He caught his attacker with a right hook, bringing his knee up into their stomach and slamming their head as hard as he could into the wall. The drywall cracked deafeningly. Shota scrambled out the door, dropping his capture weapon over his head and onto his shoulders.
The hallway was in shambles, the lightbulb overhead blown out and the doors all open and splintered, like they'd been forced. A few floorboards had been seemingly pulled up, and Shota was careful not to let himself be tripped, one hand braced against the wall to steady himself. His vision swam threateningly but he refused to be dragged under, pushing forward towards the sounds of fighting.
Someone flew past the mouth of the hall right as he got there, seemingly thrown. The couch had been relocated into the kitchen, and the Shota had to climb over the overturned coffee table to get out of the hall. He blinked rapidly trying to right himself, trying to avoid the glass scattered about. There were broken dishes all over, and the sink was spraying water, the faucet gone. It looked like a tornado had ripped through the whole apartment.
Shota stumbled again, bleary gaze raising. He froze.
Standing there in the middle of his demolished living room was a familiar figure, one he saw most in dreams that ended as nightmares when all was said and done. He had Izuku in his arms, the boy clinging to him and burying his small face in his shoulder. Wisps of blue haired danced, clouds zipping around angrily and with reckless abandon. There were two villains Shota vaguely recognized crumbled on the ground, their faces bloody and a few of their limbs bent oddly from where they'd been sent into the wall.
It was, without a doubt, Shirakumo Oboro. But Oboro had died-- Shota had been there, had watched the building come down and heard the coms go quiet. He'd watched them pull his broken body from the rubble, crushed and covered in too much blood. He looked the exactly the same as Shota had always known him to be, forever young and just as prone to righteous anger as he had been in life.
He was dead, but his chest was heaving with anger and exertion. He pulled Izuku even closer, and the fog in the room seemed to thin slightly when he realized nobody was going to spontaneously leap out and attack. The ghost's eyes darted around, the rushing around of his clouds slowing. He rubbed a hand absentmindedly up and down Izuku's back as the boy clung desperately to him, weeping into his shoulder.
"It's okay." Oboro reassured, though his voice shook a little. Hearing it again was like a live shock. "It's okay, Izuku. You're alright. I never would've let them take you. They're defeated now, okay? You're alright."
Izuku shook his head wordlessly, not pulling away from the ghost. Shota couldn't move, could hardly breathe as Oboro turned and met his eyes. He looked solid and there, and realization dawned upon Shota like a bucket of ice water over the head. It was fast and cold, and it left him utterly reeling.
The floating items, the flickering lights, the odd humming and the familiar voice he hadn't been able to place until just now. The staring into empty air and smiling. The cooked food and cold spots, the so called 'imaginary friends' and the way Izuku'd picked out his clothes. The love for his cloud blanket and light blue teddy bear, and the way the kid had manage to escape bed every morning without waking Shota up. The tanned hand and the flashes of blue Aizawa'd get just before going to sleep, always reminding the underground pro of the sky.
Shota had brushed the idea of haunting off, telling himself it was all Izuku's quirk causing the oddities. But Izuku's quirk was to be haunted. He could see the dead, and Oboro-- Oboro had... had been here the whole time, watching over him when Shota couldn't, in all the ways Shota couldn't.
Shirakumo had always loved kids. He'd given his life for them. Shota had always thought, privately, that Oboro would adore Izuku and grow immediately attached. He could see now that he wasn't wrong. Shota just didn't know what to think, or what to do. Because his dead friend was here. He'd never... he'd never left.
It all made so much sense. Too much sense, and it was no wonder the villains wanted him for the ability. The ability to convene with the dead? To give them corporeal form? Shirakumo was using his quirk. If someone passed him on the street looking like this, solid and here, they wouldn't give him a second glance.
"Shota." Oboro's lips curled into a smile, anger giving way for familiar mischief that made his throat tighten. The ghost stepped closer, glass crunching underfoot. He was still in his hero costume even in death. Aizawa was paralyzed as he approached. "Call Tsukauchi and take him to Zashi's, okay? I think my time is just about up, but I'll still be here. I'm counting on you to keep him safe now."
He offered Izuku up hesitantly. The boy turned willingly at Oboro's nudging, eyes red-rimmed and his entire expression so scared and sad that it was enough to snap Shota out of his state of shock. He fumbled to take him, shaking hard and flinching back when Oboro's hands brushed his. They were warm. Alive, in a way. Oboro's smile grew as Izuku immediately latched onto him, burying his tiny face into Shota's shoulder instead.
"O-Oboro--" Shota choked out, tears dripping down his cheeks. He didn't even try to wipe them away, cradling Izuku close, his temple still pounding. Oboro gave a little laugh.
"Is this the part where I say 'boo'?" He asked, that same joking light about him. He was here. He was actually here, actually present and-- and solid. He'd saved Izuku. He'd been taking care of him all this time, offering warmth where Shota was too emotionally inept to. He'd been watching over Shota. And when Izuku had come-- maybe that's why Izuku had been so quick to trust Shota, to know he was good. Maybe Shirakumo had told him so. "Watch him, or I'll haunt you even more, Sho. You'll never be able to watch TV again if I stand in it every time you try."
And then he was gone. A blink, and he just... wasn't there. Shota stared at the place he'd stood with big eyes, aware he was getting scarily close to hyperventilating. The logical part of his brain told him it was just the concussion. That he must be seeing things, or that maybe he'd been knocked out and this was all some sort of hopeful dream. That he'd wake up and Izuku would be gone, and he'd have failed.
But the pain in his head and the stark vividness of it all told him this was real. Izuku's fear wasn't fake. He was terrified, clinging to Shota and trusting him to take care of him. Oboro was trusting him to take care of him. If he hadn't been here, then Izuku... he would've been taken just like that. Shota felt sick to his stomach, confused and disoriented.
Ghosts went against his rational way of thought, but so did most quirks. Quirks defied logic, were unique and quite frankly insane. Seeing the dead wasn't the weirdest thing in the world. He'd known Izuku's quirk would be something out there when Tsukauchi told him the villains were still looking for him. He just... he'd never thought...
He swallowed and forced himself to calm down. There could be more villains on the way, and Oboro had-- had told him to take Izuku and go. To protect him like Shota was supposed to, like Oboro had been doing.
"Alright." Shota said into the empty air. His voice came out a whole lot steadier than he felt. He looked down at Izuku's tiny form, curled up in his arms and shivering with fear. His own failure stung, solidifying something in him. Shota had failed. If not for Oboro... "I'll protect you, Izuku. No matter what."
Izuku peeked up at him with watery eyes, offering the smallest of smiles. It was shaky and faint, but it was there. It was enough.