Chapter Thirty-Eight

Anywhere

"Say something, I'm giving up on you,
And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you;
Anywhere I would've followed you.
Say something, I'm giving up on you."

- Say Something (A Great Big World)

Eraserhead allowed the events to unfold as he kept his Erasure focused on Shigaraki. After all, the man had hurt Hizashi Yamada, and that was the one thing he didn't allow.

One of the kids used the opportunity to their advantage as they charged up a fist with super strength and launched it at Shigaraki. Nomu abandoned Present Mic and leapt in the way, completely absorbing the impact of the attack.

Eraser's head was hurting - more so than usual - but he lost interest in Shigaraki and turned his attention to Present Mic. It was a sorry sight. Hot blood pooled around him, both his arms were completely mangled, his face was badly cut up, and-

He was looking up at him with those emerald eyes. Right, they were green. He also noticed the horrified way he clenched his teeth together, how his lips trembled. Eraser had to get him away from here…

At that moment, the doors opened. All-Might entered.

Eraserhead turned his attention to him, but felt nothing when he looked at the man, although his constant headache worsened. It didn't matter anyway, since Eraserhead wasn't involved with the League of Villains or Shigaraki: he was solely there for Present Mic and that's where his attention refocused.

Eraser crouched beside the wounded hero to check the extent of the damage in closer detail. His arms were broken beyond belief, and metal from the neck speaker was cracked and splintered in his throat. It'd missed the artery there, but if Nomu had slammed his head down several more times, it might've been deadly.

He tried to examine the bleeding hero further, but he was interrupted by the way the man's entire body shuddered and froze. Oh, his Erasure Quirk was bad on this man. The villain turned his gaze away to look elsewhere.

He went to check the pipe that'd been impaled through Hizashi's leg and-

Nothing. His palm met no pipe: in fact there was no wound there at all…

Strange, he'd sworn there'd been a pipe... His head throbbed, but he didn't dwell on it.

Eraser pulled the blond hero onto his back, ensuring he wasn't cut on his razor capture weapon while also making sure the metal in his neck didn't move around. He was lighter than he looked, but the feeling of his weight against him made his constant headache ease … if only slightly.

All-Might didn't interrupt him. Kurogiri was busy dealing with him, and Father would get upset if Eraser interrupted now the Symbol of Peace was here. So, the next best option was the entrance of the building where the kids gathered. He'd take Hizashi to them and when help arrived they'd take the hero to be healed.

With the finish line decided, Eraserhead moved. He didn't walk fast, lest he jostle the wounded hero too much, but he didn't walk slowly either. The strangest thing was the man as he pressed his face against Eraser's hair and repeated the same curious word over and over: "[Show, show, show,]" followed by, "[show ta...]"

He didn't know what he meant, but the sound of his voice eased the pain further, so he didn't make him stop. Then…

Come on, Zashi, let's end this together.

He would've glanced around had he been so sure no one was nearby. The ground was littered with unconscious thugs, but something told him the voice hadn't belonged to them. Right, the voice had been familiar and…

Guess I didn't have as much blood as I thought…

For a moment, they were in a tunnel with a bright light just ahead, and he could almost hear the cries of excited spectators, but the vision vanished as quickly as it'd come.

His pace never slowed or sped up, despite the fighting he heard behind him. Just when he thought the voice was gone however, it came again, just as familiar, although it was now distinctly older.

The building exploded; was that your doing?

This time he didn't hear spectators, nor did he see a light at the end of a tunnel. There was darkness, but it didn't feel like normal darkness. It was … colder.

Right, I get it. Your hearing-aids still working, I take it?

Oh, Hizashi Yamada had hearing-aids. He'd forgotten that when...

… Forgotten. These weren't visions at all: they were-

"Shouta," whispered the man on his back. Hizashi's tears rolled down his neck, the heat akin to dripping blood. "You're home…"

-o-

Hizashi was crying. The tears themselves were derived from an amalgamation of emotions, but the most influential were clear: relief, hope and frustration. He hated to think it, but the last was the biggest perpetrator for the tears.

Shouta was right there, carrying him. Mic was on his back, pressed against him, and yet his body was so busted he couldn't do a thing. If his arms hadn't been messed up, he could've knocked Aizawa out with his taser gloves and then he could've been captured. At least his adrenaline was kicking in at last, making the pain more bearable.

"Tried to find you," Hizashi croaked when Aizawa said nothing. "Searched for years with tracker, but… Always out of reach. Thought we'd got you those years ago… But...Gone." The taste of blood tainted his mouth, and there was a sensation of something in his neck. He could potentially knock Aizawa out with a scream, but it would hurt himself in the process, and if he landed badly while something was in his neck... "Knew you weren't dead… Sho… Stay home… I'll protect you."

It was such a stupid thing to say, especially considering the situation. Hizashi had failed as both a hero and as a teacher today. Even now, he was shirking his duty. He should've been trying to help All-Might with what little strength he had - he knew Toshi was already at his limit for the day, so how long could he really last? His students were in danger, and he didn't even know if Nemuri was alive, and yet here he was promising to protect a man - a villain - he'd already failed time and time again.

He waited for some snarky reply, but Shouta said … nothing.

"Please," Hizashi pleaded, "tell me you'll come home… I'm not … gonna give up." The blond started to cough and blood rolled down his lips, but he continued to press on as Aizawa reached the stairs. "Miss you … so much… Shouta… You can come home…"

Face it, said the imaginary Aizawa who walked alongside them. He's gone.

They started up the steps, and Hizashi's tears ended. "Say something," he pleaded. "Tell me you don't blame me, tell me you're okay, tell me you want to come home…"

That there was some small hope his Sho was in there, despite everything.

Eraserhead reached the top of the stairs. Some of his students were there, along with Thirteen, although he'd been badly injured. His kids turned to face him and horror streaked their faces. At first he thought it was because of how roughed up he was, but he quickly remembered he was being carried by a master villain. Before there was any confrontation between Shouta and his students, however, Eraserhead carefully placed him on the ground.

Finally, the villain said something. It was only one word, but it was Shouta's voice and that alone brought more tears to Present Mic's eyes.

"Survive."

Hizashi looked to him. Eraserhead was covering his left lens with his arm, which almost made him sob again as his mind realised what he hadn't before: the man couldn't turn off his Erasure Quirk.

What had All For One done to him?

The villain's other hand reached down and his fingers brushed some bloodied fringe from Hizashi's face. Rough skin ran over his bruising cheek, and he noticeably hesitated. A shock ran through them, like electricity, as it always had when they touched. He wished with everything he had that the spark was as strong as a taser, would make Eraser give up and return to him, but it was a stupid thought. Even so, the blond's heart practically constricted in his chest.

Sho wasn't gone.

Hizashi lunged his face forward. He felt the metal in his neck drive deeper, but he didn't care about that. His teeth took hold of Eraserhead's hand and he clamped on tight.

He wouldn't let him go. He wouldn't let them take him away again.

They could break all of his limbs if they wanted to, but even that wouldn't stop him.

Blood pooled around his neck, caught between his skin and his speaker. All his wounds were painful, and his head was swimming, but he didn't relent. To his surprise, Eraserhead didn't try to pull his hand away, no matter how hard he bit him.

Even so, what he did was worse.

The villain pulled his arm away from his glowing lens, and Hizashi couldn't breathe.

"Survive," Eraser repeated.

As his oxygen ran out, he clenched harder on Eraser's hand, but the man never tried to pull away, nor did he make any sign he was in pain. Hizashi tried to tell him to stay, but his words were incomprehensible, even to himself.

Eraserhead watched him aloofly. Just beyond the real one stood the hallucination, his expression as impassive, although he lacked the mask.

You should've been stronger.

With no more oxygen in his lungs, Hizashi sank into darkness.

-x-

Light drifted against his closed eyelids. A voice echoed in his mind, and the word it said was simple yet cogent: Survive.

He opened his eyes. A blank ceiling stared down at him, complete with a round fluorescent lightbulb at its centre. If he listened carefully enough, he thought he could hear its hum, until he realised he wasn't wearing his hearing-aids at all. Great, more audible hallucinations…

Hizashi Yamada tried to sit up, but although he could feel his arms, he couldn't move them. He glanced down to find his broken limbs tied in thick bandages, but when he moved his head he also felt them around his face and neck. Memories slowly trickled back to him, and the ache they brought almost made him wish for the sweet obliviousness he'd known only moments before.

You weren't strong enough, whispered the voice of imaginary-Shouta. Hizashi couldn't see him, but even without his hearing-aids he could understand the words perfectly. You weren't strong enough to save Shouta. You weren't strong enough to save Midnight or your students. You weren't even strong enough to save yourself.

The light turned off and on three times. Hizashi couldn't sit up, but he tried to look around the room. Judging by the amount of tubes, he was in a hospital, and that immediately made his stomach turn as he recalled another time he'd been in this situation…

"I'm okay," Hizashi said, although he felt his voice rather than heard it. His throat was rough, and he wasn't even sure if his words were comprehensible, but it was enough approval for the visitors. His bed vibrated and lifted, so he could sit up without actually moving. Only then did he come face to face with his guests: Nezu and Toshinori.

His fiancé had a box, and he quickly recognised it as a spare pair of his hearing-aids. After a lot of help, they were in, and sound returned to Hizashi's world: real sound. Apparently the light above didn't hum after all.

The first thing Hizashi did was tell them, "I'm sorry." His voice did sound bad, like faulty recording equipment. "Are they …?" He didn't want to finish asking the question. If any of his students had died while he'd been focused on Shouta, he'd…

"They're safe," Toshi said instantly, his voice sounding tired but together. "The only student hurt was Midoriya, and that was from his Quirk. Midnight and Thirteen are okay as well. She was knocked out by Nomu, but was carried to safety, and Thirteen only had a few wounds on his back… Midnight was well enough to go into school today and talk to the class about the Sports Festival."

Hizashi looked All-Might over. He could spy it, a hint of bandage beneath his shirt. "And you…?"

Toshinori nodded. "I overdid it, but I don't regret it. You were the most injured, Hizashi. You've been out for two days."

The Voice hero turned back to the ceiling. He wanted to cry, but he had no tears left to spill. "If I'd been stronger, you wouldn't've needed to…"

"Hizashi," said the Symbol of Peace, "if you and Midnight hadn't stepped in, there wouldn't be zero casualties. You weren't the only ones fighting: the students fought with everything they had too. You should be proud: not sorry."

"...Sho-... Eraserhead was there…"

"I saw… He carried you to safety and then… I was at my limit. He didn't attack anyone, but he fled with Kurogiri."

"We captured Nomu," chirped Nezu as he crawled onto the bed with a glass of water and a paper straw. "However, we haven't been able to get him to talk. We don't think he's capable, due to the number of Quirks he's been given by All For One."

Hizashi shivered. "Sho… His left eye. Not once did he stop using Erasure with it, not even to blink… Don't know 'bout his other eye…" Nezu held the glass close and he forced himself to sip some water through the straw. He was thirstier than he'd realised.

Toshinori looked away. "He carried you to safety. Even if All For One has changed him, something of Aizawa is there."

Hizashi recalled the dispassionate way the man had watched as he'd run out of oxygen, and a cold tremble shot up his spine. "...Not much…" This one wasn't above suffocating him to 'help' him, and that wasn't a pleasant thought… His one word rang through his mind like a tolling bell: Survive.

"Needless to say," said Nezu, "the wedding date has been postponed."

Hizashi grimaced. "[What?] I'll get my shapeshifter bud to heal me up! This ain't a reason to postpone, yo! Bet I can teach like this, and I've got the Sports Fest coming up!"

Nezu shook his head. "We've done what we've needed to do so far: we have their attention. It's best to assume Eraserhead and All For One are currently in Japan, thanks to your publicity stunt." Hizashi relaxed a little. Nezu was right, as per usual: it had worked.

Their fake engagement had drawn out the big fish they'd been hunting for years.

"The public won't second doubt the postponement," Nezu continued, "especially since they'll see how wounded you are at the Sports Festival. Pushing the wedding back a month will give you time to recover, while also allowing enough time to set up our ambush."

Hizashi exhaled. They had a plan, and if Shouta was in Japan then everything was already in motion.

"If something like this happens again," Toshinori said, his piercing eyes remaining turned away, "where you have to choose between Eraser and the students, who would you choose?"

Hizashi turned his gaze to the bedside table. It was covered in flowers and cards. While it was impossible to reach out and pick one up, he was able to look over the fronts: 'GET WELL SOON', 'THANK YOU' and 'BEST TEACHER EVER'. His chest fluttered just thinking of them, and he knew if push came to shove, he'd protect them again.

Hizashi was a teacher. He'd lost a lot to get to this moment. It wasn't the first time he'd sat broken and bandaged in a hospital bed, but now he was surrounded by people who truly cared for him - who believed in him.

Sho was out there, and Hizashi would save him, but not because of any survivor's guilt, and not because he loved the lost man.

He would save Shouta because Present Mic- … No, because Hizashi Yamada was a hero.

"Won't need to choose," he said firmly. "...Y'know, I keep sayin' I haven't failed 'yet'." He grinned at Nezu, and All-Might finally turned to him, his expression confused. "But I have failed. I've failed too many times to count, yo. I thought it was 'cause I wasn't strong enough, but… Right now, I'm the strongest I've ever been."

His eyes glanced back to the flowers and the cards and everything clicked.

"You shoulda seen Nems and I. [We really kicked butt!] Things only went south when I got distracted… Alone, I couldn't protect the kids, but that's fine: I ain't alone." His grin was so wide it made his wounded face ache, but he didn't care about that. "I've failed Sho too many times to count… but I'm not gonna fail him again. In school, Recovery Girl said I 'relied' on others… Kan got me across the mines, yes, but she forgot to mention that he wouldn't've won without my help either. I ain't weak, and I ain't stupid."

"Hizashi…"

"I'm strongest when I'm working with others, and that ain't a bad thing. We can save Sho- No, we will. All of us. We will save Shouta together!"