Era

17

Era knew that she should move.

It would only be worse if she didn't, she needed to get up, get up now or her trainer would drag her up by the hair and they'd just have to start all over again because she couldn't get it right the first time, again and again, and again until she can just get it fucking right if she could just get better do better be better then they wouldn't have to do this. this was because of her this was her fault and if she wasn't such a failure then she wouldn't have fallen down in the first place but now she has to get up get up get up because failure is suffering, little bird, never forget that and how could she? How could she forget? They never let her forget it again and again and agai—

Breathe. She did, deep and rattling against the sharp edges of her broken ribs. Era winced at her wheezing gasps, listening for pierced lungs as she felt bone shards rip through her insides.

Beneath her fingers was yielding soil, not the unforgiving concrete of the training room. The dust and dirt swelled within her lungs and flooded her nose with its earthy scent, a far cry from the sharp chemical scent of blood barely scrubbed away by copious amounts of bleach. Her ribs writhed like eels wriggling through her flesh, knitting themselves back together with burning ferocity that left her trembling in barely concealed agony; when she was being trained, they hadn't been able to do that. She'd simply had to fight through her broken bones until Sensei decided that she had had enough. Your enemies won't stand back and wait for you to recover from your weakness. Let us start again.

Hot breath fled from her in shuddering bursts of burning pain crawling up from deep inside her chest, and Era found herself inhaling bits of dirt and dust, her face pressed up against the hard-packed earth as she struggled to turn her head and open her fucking eyes.

Eraserhead. Fucking... Eraserhead. That stupid, stubborn, self-sacrificing hero who couldn't mind his own goddamn business, who wouldn't fucking listen even when she told him that she'd be fine, she was going to be fine and she knew that and he wouldn't fucking listen and she needed to save him, she needed to or he was going to die, he was going to die she needed to save him he was going to die and it was going to be her fault, it was always her fault she needed to—

Era couldn't move.

She wasn't stayed by broken bones or battered flesh. Era would not allow herself to be stopped by something like pain, would not allow herself that weakness. Something dug into her sides, pressed against her back, pinned her to the ground within the cracks and splinters of a faint crater where she had landed.

Ignoring the scream of her muscles Era forced herself to twist around and look straight into the lifeless eyes of the hulking monstrosity that had slammed her into the ground hard enough to splinter her bones. Against her better judgement she struggled in its unyielding grasp, wheezing in pain as its grip only tightened around her abused ribs, digging splintered shards more painfully into her skin while her quirk struggled to keep up with the damage.

Era's head fell back to the ground with a dull thud and a plume of dust, her eyes dazedly finding the flurry of movement a few yards beyond. Two figures ran towards each other, and her focus sharpened once more when she saw it was Shigaraki and Eraserhead. Fuck. He still hadn't run away? Was he an idiot?

Another, more subtle flash of motion a little ways beyond, and Era's eyes widened as she made out the distinct hair of Midoriya and Shinsou, along with a girl she didn't know who must have been from the Hero Course. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Were all heroes so fucking stupid? Did none of them know how to fucking run away run away run far away—

Era slammed her forehead into the ground in a vain attempt to dislodge these useless thoughts, ignoring the way Noumu's fingers dug deeper into her skin and the faint sting of fresh scrapes on her face.

No, no, no, she needed to watch. Keep her eyes on the fight, don't look away little bird, I can make it worse, I can make you regret it—

Era sucked a breath between her teeth when Shigaraki blocked Eraserhead's strike. Her hands curled into trembling fists when Eraserhead's quirk fell and the skin at his elbow began to flake and scatter, blood flying from the exposed gore in scattered droplets as he jumped away once more. That must have hurt, even without the influence of an invasive healing quirk. Still Eraserhead stood, fought, won against the few thugs who were still conscious despite his ceaseless onslaught.

There wasn't a name for the emotion that swelled uncomfortably in her chest when she saw him stand, shaken but unbroken, against the villains who threatened him and his students. She didn't know what it was, but she knew it was dangerous. She knew she couldn't afford it.

Era gave another pitiful wheeze when the Noumu pressed down on her back suddenly, shoving her into the ground as it burst forward in a blur of black and a gust of lashing wind. Blood splattered against the ground with every one of her heaving coughs, her limbs quaked with the effort of pushing her up onto her knees, a pounding ache threatened at her temples as she forced her head up and focused her gaze on wherever that beast had gone. She wished it wasn't so easy to find again.

She was slipping. She was slipping away and she couldn't afford to. Fuck, spiraling deep into thoughts and memories and half-baked dreams that could have been real or fake or both at the same time because—

Don't look away, little bird. You're hurting him right now, do you want to hurt him more? She knew that, she knew that, she knew that it was her fault, it was your fault that he's hurting, your failure, are you going to fail again? She wasn't, she couldn't, she'd be good, she'd be better, they didn't have to do this they needed to fix her, why did they have to hurt him, she was the broken one, it was her, her fault her fault my fault my fault my fault my—

Breathe. In through the nose with the acrid tang of blood and dirt and sweat. Out through the mouth with the sharp taste of knives in her throat and molten metal on her tongue.

There were moments that stood out with painful clarity. Colors and sounds all tangling together in an incomprehensible mass of threads, loom creaking and groaning under the strain except for the brief stretches where the strands wove to images that burned themselves into her mind.

The broken, yellow goggles cast aside in a swelling pool of blood. The sharp snap of bones, the stifled groan of pain that accompanied it. The flash of Eraserhead's eyes before his head was smashed into the ground once more.

Era stood, feeling bones shift and mend beneath her skin. She felt along her arm without looking, roving fingers dancing over an exposed bit of pale white bone before slowly pushing it back beneath her flesh, holding it in place for her quirk to set and make whole once more. Swinging her arm experimentally, Era noted how the tug at her wounds felt distant and unsure, how sounds grew faint and muffled against her ears like she'd been hooded by thick fabric, how colors were muted and smells were dampened and her jaw ached as if she had just been released from the tight confines of a muzzle.

The black smoke villain, Kurogiri, returned. Whatever news he bore only sent Shigaraki spiraling into a more unpredictable rage.

She needed to focus. She needed to breathe.

One...

...two...

...three.

"Shigaraki Tomura." Was that her speaking? Certainly her mouth was moving around the words, feeling the shape of them rattling across her tongue, but was that her voice? She changed it so often, it was becoming difficult to tell.

Shigaraki wheeled around on her, eyes blazing with his undisguised fury as his lips twisted around a sneer. "You."

"Yeah, me," said Era simply, taking another shuddering step forward, hands tensing with the effort of concealing her stumble. "What, thought I'd go down that easy?"

"I was right," snapped Shigaraki. "You are annoying." Cutting himself off with a sharp sigh and the quick rake of nails across his neck, he turned back to Kurogiri, turned his back on her how dare—

A sharp bloom of pain in her side reminded her that, perhaps, it was justified. She felt like shit, so surely she must look even worse, with tattered clothes and red-stained skin and yellow-green blossoming bruises that already looked old and sickly.

"We can't kill All Might if dozens of pro-heroes show up," hissed Shigaraki, voice dripping with frustration. He hummed thoughtfully, eyes wandering over to where Eraserhead lay pinned beneath the Noumu's grasp. "But maybe we can still break him. Let him know what his absence cost, how many heroes are going to die because of his weakness."

Weakness. Eraserhead would not die for her weakness.

"Are you going to kill him? Eraserhead?" asked Era, forcing her voice steady and securing a tight mask to her face. She couldn't fail, couldn't falter, couldn't spiral into walls closing in and knives beneath the skin, not now. "But I thought you wanted to hurt All Might?"

"Kid," hissed Eraserhead from beneath the hulking Noumu, and Era was honestly impressed that he was still conscious, nonetheless able to draw enough air into his lungs to speak. "Get out of here."

"We're going to kill All Might," Shigaraki corrected with a blistering conviction. His hands twitched at his sides, no doubt eager to dissolve someone between his fingers.

"Not today, though," said Era with as innocent a voice as she could muster. "I mean, you said you were leaving."

"Maybe not today," snapped Shigaraki, "but we will kill him. It's just a matter of when."

"Hm." Era shrugged, stuffing her hands into her pockets even though her mind was screaming at her to keep them loose, open, ready to defend her from the attack that was sure to come. "Seems like you kind of suck at this, is all. I mean, you didn't kill him today. You couldn't even kill me, the helpless little Gen Ed kid, and wasn't that part of your big, smart plan?"

"Stop—" Eraserhead cut himself of with a gasp of pain as the Noumu snapped his arm.

"I mean," continued Era stubbornly. "Look at you, you have all this power, and what did it get you? What, you think UA won't up its security after this? You think you'll ever be given a better opportunity than the one you had right now?" She laughed, twisted it up to be cruel and jagged. "Face it, Tomura. All Might was practically dropped into your lap, and you still fucking blew it."

"I will kill All Might," he screamed, and if his tantrum was any more juvenile he might have stomped his foot against the ground in his rage. "I will. You're just a stupid, useless little insect that doesn't understand—"

"Doesn't understand what?" Era cocked her head to the side, eyes wide and leeched of all emotion. "That you've failed? That you're an incompetent fool who can't even kill a so called insect? If I'm so useless, then how am I still alive?"

"You won't be in—"

"Shigaraki Tomura." Era bit back a scowl when Kurogiri drifted closer to the raving villain. "She is attempting to distract you. Look at her; she's barely able to stand. Let us focus on the task at hand."

"But I want to—"

"The heroes will be arriving soon. We cannot be here when they do."

With a hiss of frustration, Shigaraki's hands shot up to scratch furiously at his neck once more. What an incredibly obvious tell, frankly it was shameful that he was allowed to proceed with such weakness.

"Fine. We'll kill Eraserhead and then get out of here."

Hm. No. No, that wasn't going to happen.

Era sighed, shifting her weight to lean lazily to one side. "God, you really are such an idiot. What, you think killing Eraserhead will hurt All Might? Seriously? You'd just be doing him a favor, you moron."

"Suzuki, stop, get out of—"

"I mean," said Era as loudly as she dared. How does Eraserhead know my fucking name? "They absolutely loathe each other. Did you not know that? It's super obvious, I mean All Might is always in the limelight and dealing with the press, what a waste of time right? And Eraserhead is an underground hero; he hates all that shit. If you killed him, it'd just be removing a thorn from All Might's side. Are you really so bad at this that you're going to help All Might instead of hurt him? I knew you were incompetent, but this is just sad."

"And what," bit out Shigaraki between gritted teeth, eyes ablaze with his barely restrained fury, "would you recommend instead?"

"Oh, that's easy," said Era with a short laugh. "I mean, like you said before, you know? To All Might, I'm a helpless General Studies student. A civilian who got caught up in a disaster."

Era breathed, resolutely avoiding Eraserhead's gaze.

"If you really want to hurt All Might," she said, pressing a feral smile across her face, "then it's me you should be killing."

"That is the first thing you've said all day that hasn't been insufferable."

Fast, fast, how is he so fast—?

Era hardly had time to blink, to pull her hands halfway from her pockets before his fingers were clenched around her throat. Closing her eyes she waited for the itch, the burn, the agony that would leave her gasping wet breaths through a crumbling esophagus; and for a moment she wondered if it would feel the same as a knife slicing across her neck, or fire searing into her flesh, or choking on the burning taste of chemicals.

She wondered if this would be the thing that finally killed her.

Nothing happened.

Shigaraki hissed, the noise dissolving to a raspy laugh. "You really are so cool, Eraserhead."

Past the villain, past the death and pain that whispered nothings in her ear she saw, hair twisted in the Noumu's crushing grip, Eraserhead, his bloodshot eyes trained desperately on Shigaraki. On her.

Why? Why would he go to such lengths for her, a nothing, a waste of time and space and precious potential, a useless broken thing that would never amount to anything but blood and pain and fear. There was no logic in that, in expending such effort to protect something like her.

And yet he kept his eyes open. Kept them trained on her even as the Noumu lifted his head, and slammed it into the ground with a sickening crack, twisting and struggling to keep them in his gaze until he physically could not.

Now he was going to die, and it was her fault. Again.

There were a precious few moments before Shigaraki's quirk would reactivate, time that Eraserhead had given her for reasons she couldn't comprehend but had to honor. Era's hands were still tangled in her pockets; she wouldn't be able to grasp Shigaraki's wrist in time to pull his hand away.

No weakness. Era tucked her chin, digging it into her neck as she took a step back and leaned away from the outstretched hand. Still he was fast, and still he would catch her, crush her, crumple her to so much dust. Then it hit her: Shigaraki needed all five fingers in order to use his quirk.

Era twisted her neck, contorted herself so that her teeth could wrap around one of his cold, bony fingers, and bit down. Hard.

Contrary to conventional wisdom, it takes quite a lot of force to completely sever a finger. There's tough flesh and sinew to consider, not to mention the strength of the bone itself. Era, however, has had a lot of practice with relieving people of life, limb, and miscellaneous appendages. The faint memory of unyielding steel that sometimes ghosted across her face was a painful reminder of the punishments for that particular rebellion.

If you're going to act like an animal, then you deserve to be muzzled like one.

She banished those thoughts from her mind and focused instead on the revolting taste of blood flooding her mouth, the feel of flesh and bone crunching beneath her teeth, tearing and twisting as Shigaraki howled in pain and reared back, his attempts to snatch his hand from her jaws only aiding her in rending sinew until at last, with a hideous crack, he stumbled backwards clutching his ruined hand and eyeing Era with murderous rage.

Cracking her neck, Era spat the finger out to the side and let the mess of blood and gore skitter across the dirt. She flashed Shigaraki a vicious grin, well aware of the crimson that stained her teeth and flecked the edges of her mouth in a wild display of reckless savagery.

"You," snarled Shigaraki, wrapping the hand in his shirt to stem the flow from the bloody stump. "I am going to kill you. I am going to tear you apart molecule by molecule until you can't even scream with the ash in your lungs."

Era huffed, swaying on her feet for a moment before resisting the impulse. "What can I say but yikes."

"Nomu."

Well. It was a valiant effort.

As the creature reared back for its onslaught, Era felt something wrap around her chest and begin to tug her to the side. For a moment of dazed confusion she wondered if Eraserhead had somehow awoken and freed himself, but a quick glance as she was pulled away from Noumu's grasp confirmed that no, he was still very much unconscious, body bent unnaturally as he bled out on the floor. Good, great, glad to know that was still happening.

"Great job, Tsu!" Was that Midoriya? "Don't worry, Era, we'll keep you safe."

"A little late for that, don't you think?" said Era dryly, leaning over when frog-girl deposited her on the ground to spit more blood out onto the dry earth. "I don't suppose you have a plan."

Midoriya flushed, ducking a little ways back into the water. "Well..."

"Great. Well, we have about ten seconds before Shigaraki realizes what happened and loses his absolute shit, and all we have is boy who breaks bones, frog girl, and brainwash kid who hates me. Great. Cool. We're going to die."

Shinsou shot her a pained look. "Is this really the time? You're going to act like an asshole now?"

"Best time," said Era, noting with interest how she felt that she could almost float away from her body, connected by nothing but distant thoughts and sensations before she forcefully slammed herself back into focus. If she wasn't so familiar with that feeling, she'd have almost thought Shinsou had used his quirk on her. "Perhaps it is the last time. Why are you even here? You know what, scratch that." She glanced over her shoulder at where a fuming Shigaraki was beginning to turn towards them. "Time to fight. Remember, if you fuck up then you're dead, so, uh. Don't fuck up."

"Are you always this blunt?" asked frog-girl as she crouched down into what Era assumed was a ready stance.

"Probably not," Era admitted. Shit, she was flagging, veins running thick with lead and quicksilver as her quirk forced her broken body into something resembling functional. "But honestly it's getting hard to tell. Ready? Doesn't matter. He's coming. Hey, Shigaraki!" Era waved her hands and stepped forward as she shouted, unsure exactly what she was trying to do but certain that, as long as his attention was on her, he at least couldn't hurt anyone else. "You fucking missed, you dumb piece of shit!"

"That is it," Shigaraki ground out. "I'm going to kill you brats myself."

"Why would you aggravate him?" shouted Shinsou as he scrambled up out of the water. Era just shrugged.

"Because his anger is easily manipulated," she said simply, tensing as Shigaraki began to rush forward. "Shouldn't you be learning that kind of shit, with a quirk like yours?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Uh, guys? Should we really be fighting now?" Midoriya had joined her on solid ground, skin crackling with some strange—evidently bone-shattering—energy.

"No, we should definitely be fighting," said Era shortly as she ducked beneath Shigaraki's outstretched hand and slammed an elbow into his ribcage. As he doubled over, she heard the telltale whistle of air and felt the familiar buffet of wind send her skidding backwards as the Noumu rushed to Shigaraki's side.

"Midoriya, can you get Eraser out of here?"

"Aizawa-sensei? But—"

Era ducked beneath a lazy swipe from Noumu, wincing as claws caught at her arm and sprayed scarlet across the air. "You gonna break a bone again? We gonna have to carry you as well?"

"I can fight, you don't need to—wait, look out!" As if to prove his point Midoriya launched himself forward, arm shimmering with force as Era's attention snapped back to an attacking Shigaraki. Fuck. She brought up an arm to defend herself and winced as that searing pain ran through her flesh like a vicious necrosis, only abiding when a gust of wind indicated that Noumu had knocked Shigaraki aside to take Midoriya's blow.

"I... I didn't break my arm this time!" Midoriya was so shocked at the revelation that Era might have laughed, had she the energy. Instead, she could only stumble back away from Shigaraki's next attack, jaw clenched around her pain.

"Great," she snarled between gritted teeth. "I'm really happy for you."

Frog-girl jumped in, trying to kick the Noumu away but only succeeding in bouncing off of the thing as it made another half-hearted swipe for Midoriya that he barely managed to dodge.

"Hey, you, what the fuck was your name, uh, Shigaraki!" called Shinsou from behind Era. "Is Era right about how stupid you are?"

"Say that again and I'll—"

"Sit down on the ground and don't move."

It was still disturbing, being on the other side of it, but now that Era was prepared she could settle herself with the undisputable fact that it was not the same quirk. Even if that blank look in Shigaraki's eyes was disturbingly familiar, the way he serenely plopped himself down into the dirt more disconcerting than when he had shared with childlike glee how exactly he would like to torture her to death.

Not the same quirk. It was not the same, it was not, Shinsou was not the same as him.

Breathe. Era turned back to Shinsou with a grin, noting the way his limbs shook in that familiar battle-haze that had left her feeling so drugged in her first few fights. It had taken a while, learning to resist that high.

"Nice one," she said with a grin, barely catching a shift in the shadows out of the corner of her eye. "Shit—Shinsou, move."

He wasn't fast enough. There was no question in her mind: Shinsou, untrained and inexperienced, would not be able to dodge that blow.

She remembered how the creature had so effortlessly splintered her ribs with a single blow, how it snapped Eraserhead's arms without so much as a tremble of muscle. She thought of Shinsou, broken, limp, and lifeless on the ground. My fault.

He wasn't fast enough, but Era was. Even so, she barely managed to shove him out of the way before Noumu slammed into her side and brought her crashing into the ground with an audible crack of bone and rock.

Slowly, Era felt herself be lifted up again, willed herself to struggle even though she knew, she knew it was hopeless, why do you always make things worse for yourself little bird? She felt herself go limp, let her eyes drift closed in preparation for the second blow, one that would surely snap her neck.

A deafening crash rang out across the USJ. Everything was still, the moment hung in breathless silence and desperate gasps of survival. It was as if time had stopped, frozen and fractured to sharp fragments of awareness that all fell away as that man walked into the building.

All Might. Never before had Era been so relieved to see a hero.

At the fringes of her vision she saw Shigaraki stumble to his feet, a faint trickle of blood at his cheek where a rock had flown by and grazed him, but she couldn't bring herself to care. It was all she could do to watch as All Might blew through the thugs who thought they stood a chance against him, as he carefully lifted Eraserhead's body and hurried to remove him from danger, as he darted forward with blinding speed to grab the students and carry them out of harm's way.

She could barely spare the energy to wonder in weary confusion why he'd carried her to safety as well.

It didn't matter. He was here now; he would take care of it. Era had to focus on the man who was currently dying in front of her.

Oh, and the idiot who didn't know how to mind his own fucking business, apparently.

"Do not," growled Era beneath her breath. Midoriya startled, glancing back at her with wide eyes.

"But—"

"I don't know what fucking martyr complex has taken root in that tiny little brain of yours, but that is not a fight for you. I'm fucking serious, Midoriya," she added when he opened his mouth to protest. "Let All Might handle it."

"I can't," he muttered desperately, and Era wasn't sure if she was meant to hear it.

Midoriya looked up, fist clenching at his side and a kind of determination sparking in his gaze that Era knew could mean nothing but trouble. "You guys will take care of Aizawa-sensei, right?"

"Kid I swear to fucking god do not—"

He was already gone, tearing across the dirt towards where All Might struggled against that Noumu beast. Era muttered a stream of curses beneath her breath, dipping into several other languages to satisfy the violent surge of frustration welling up inside of her. She could try to stop Midoriya from getting himself killed, or she could focus her attention on the already dying Eraserhead. Shit.

"We need to go, Era." Her tired eyes darted towards Shinsou, who looked away uncomfortably before he continued. "Midoriya's strong, he can handle himself. We need to focus on our own situation right now."

Ah, of course: self-preservation. She'd forgotten that some people still possessed that admirable quality.

Still. Era wasn't a person; it would be selfish of Era to focus on herself, with what her quirk had made her. She needed to save Midoriya, needed to shield him with her own mangled flesh because that was the only way a quirk like hers could ever be of use.

A chill blast of wind shivered across Era's skin, and she looked back towards the unfolding fight to find that more hero course students had joined the fray. Strong ones, by the looks of it.

"See?" said Shinsou insistently, and if Era didn't know better she could have sworn that there was desperation creeping into his voice. "He's fine. Now come on, we need to get sensei to safety."

Oh. Oh. It was not self-preservation, unfortunately. He was concerned about his teacher, this man who'd only been in his life for what, a week? That level of attachment was unprecedented, especially for Shinsou. It had taken him a month to warm up to her. Maybe that's because you are, categorically, the worst.

"Okay," she said, even though it wasn't. The hero students were strong, and they had numbers on their side. From the looks of him, Eraserhead didn't have that kind of advantage. "Let's go."

Miss girl is too suicidal for her own good.
Also, I'm gonna make midoriya insufferable in the fic.
Why? Cause I want to 🕺