Their Hero Academia – Chapter 56: Shout It All Out
The Nomu grabbed Ground Zero and pulled, his leg separating from his body in a messy spray of blood and gore. Both parts of him dropped to the ground with a sick, wet sound. The Nomu let loose a triumphant war cry, like some dinosaur from the ancient past. But this time, Shota didn't make a sound, didn't scream. He couldn't move. Couldn't act. Couldn't do anything!
From the street, Ground Zero locked eyes with him, his features twisted up with the kind of rage he usually reserved for Villains. "You did this," he said, jabbing an accusing finger in Shota's direction. "You did this to me! It's your fault!"
"I didn't," he began, "I didn't mean to! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
"Your fault…
"Your fault…
"Your fault…
"Your fault!"
Shota bolted awake, with a scream that briefly made the furniture and windows rattle, before he gained enough awareness of where he was to get control of himself. He was in his bedroom, in his home. The walls were lined with Hero posters, the shelves filled with books on Heroes and every available surface crammed with different Hero collectibles. Even bringing some of his things to school had done little to make a dent in everything he had. There was Deku, Lemillion, Shoto, Ingenium, countless others, and, of course, Ground Zero.
A shelf of Ground Zero action figures and statues all seemed to stare at him accusingly. The Hero's trademark "Kill" yell seemed to twist in the darkness into the same cry of pain he'd witnessed firsthand. Even the ones with a more neutral expressions seemed to stare directly into his soul, accusing him on ruining the life and career of one of the greatest Heroes of their time.
The door to his room flew open and his parents burst into his room. "Shota!" Dad called out. "Are you all right?" His already tired features were marred by concern and even more exhaustion.
Mom moved to his bedside, kneeling beside it. Like Dad, she looked like she hadn't been sleeping well. Not that he had either. Shota was sleeping a lot, but barely a few hours at a time, before the dreams took him again. "Oh, Baby," she said, running a hand through his purple hair. "Another nightmare?"
He nodded, mutely. His voice frightened him now. He'd used his Quirk to literally unmake the Nomu, after he'd already put a hole in it. Such was the power of the raw sonic energy he could unleash, doing everything from sonar to raw destructive force to changing the solidity of matter to vibrating it to the point its molecules lost all cohesion, all just by finding the right tone. A true example of a Quirk mutation in a family line. And none of it had been enough. When it had counted, he hadn't been able to keep Ground Zero from being injured.
"About Katsuki?" Mom asked. "And what happened?"
He nodded again. "I'm sorry," he said, each word barely a whisper. "I didn't mean to make you worry."
"Shota," Dad said. "We're your parents. Worrying about you is our job."
"Comes with being fam, fam," Mom added. "We're gonna get through this, together."
It had been days now, since the Nomu attack. He'd barely left his bed in all that time. He just… couldn't. Couldn't even look at his phone, though it had buzzed time and time again with texts from his friends. What was there to get through? He'd messed up. Ruined someone's life. Ruined lots of people's lives, not just Ground Zero's, but his family's as well. And then, what about all the people that only Ground Zero could have saved?
His godfather may have told him he had more heroic spirit than anybody else in the class, and for a moment, that had boosted his spirits. Until the terrible reality had set in again.
It didn't matter who said it. He knew whose fault it was.
The door to his hospital room opens with a slight click. Shota ignores it; it's probably his parents. Uncle Deku had called them and they'd come as quickly as they could, trying to comfort him. But they had left for a few minutes, trying to let him get some rest while they spoke to one of the doctors.
"Shinso?" a voice asks. It's Doctor Izumi—Aunt Eri. "You've got a visitor."
There's a tension in her voice. "For the record, I think this is a bad idea. You should both be resting. You're just a few hours out of major surgery, Katsuki. You don't need any stress right now."
A harsh, hoarse voice interrupts her. "Just give me a minute with the kid, okay? I'll even ask nicely. Please."
He hears her sigh. "Okay. Ten minutes. No more than that."
She was going to leave him alone with Ground Zero? Shota doesn't think he can face that kind of wrath. Why would she leave him alone with someone who must hate him? Instinctively, he turns away, pulling the thin hospital blankets up over his head to hide. Maybe if he stays there long enough, Ground Zero would just go away.
"I know you're there, Shinso."
That strikes him as odd. Ground Zero almost never calls people by their actual names, either in a personal or professional context. There's a long running debate on some of the fandom boards over whether or not he's giving affectionate nicknames or honestly doesn't remember people's names. But it's out of character enough that Shota risks turning and pulling the covers down just enough for his eyes to poke out.
It definitely looks like Ground Zero, sitting in a wheelchair, dressed in a hospital gown. But Shota's eyes are drawn to the absence of a leg. His fault. If Ground Zero hadn't been protecting him, he'd have fought the Nomu some other way. He wouldn't have gotten caught like that. He wouldn't have been ripped apart.
Ground Zero stays silent for a moment. He's not known to be a thoughtful man. He's known for his quick action and quick temper. But from working with him and him being a family friend, Shota knows it's only half of the truth. He's just as capable of kindness and gentleness as anyone. He just doesn't let it show a lot where other people can see. But Shota doesn't expect to see any of that now.
"Go ahead," Shota says, his voice barely a whisper. "Yell at me. Tell me I screwed up. I deserve it."
"Why would I yell at you?" Ground Zero asks. He doesn't sound surprised, though. Was he expecting Shota to act like that? Maybe his parents had said something. "Near as I can tell, you saved my life. Three times. Pretty sure that makes you the hero of the hour."
He inches the covers a little lower. "But you got hurt because of me!" Tears start welling up in his eyes. "You lost your leg! You can't be a Hero anymore!"
"That thing would have killed me if you hadn't gotten its attention. My head was spinning so bad I couldn't see straight. No way that I was getting up in time to fight it off. So you did the heroic thing and put yourself in danger. Even though I told you not to."
The smallest of smiles tugs at Ground Zero's lips. "Reminds me of somebody else I know."
Shota isn't sure who that might be, but he just keeps eye contact. Ground Zero continues. "And then you blasted the damn thing to smithereens before it could finish me off. And Deku told me you were doing first aid when he showed up. Quick thinking. Might have bled out if you hadn't done that."
"But… but I didn't know Deku was going to show up! I should have…"
"Rescue ops were always gonna get there sooner or later. But in an emergency, every second counts. You did good."
"But if I wasn't there… you wouldn't have gotten hurt at all!" Shota protests.
"Ground Zero shakes his head. "There's no way of knowing that. This kinda life, every time you go out, every fight you get in, it's a risk. I always used to say that no second rate Villain was gonna do me in… but a lot of that's just trash talk. All it takes is one guy getting lucky and this one did."
"But," Shota begins, "aren't you mad? Aren't you angry?" Why wasn't he yelling at him like he deserved?
"Of course I am," Ground Zero says. "But not at you. I'm angry at the people who were behind the Nomu attacks. I'm, all right, I'm angry at a lot of things. But not at you. Never at you."
Shota looks up at him, eyes wide. This still isn't making any sense.
Ground Zero takes his hand and gives it a little squeeze. "Because of you, Shinso, I get to go back to my kids and my husband. Better missing a leg than being dead. I don't say this kinda thing often, so I'm not so good at it. Thank yo, for saving my life. I wouldn't still be here if not for you."
Shota only manages to nod mutely at that. This all seems so unreal. Even with Ground Zero himself saying it, he can't quite believe it.
"And getting hurt in the line of duty, well, time was, I'd say the best Heroes didn't get hurt. But that ain't true. The best Heroes, if they get hurt saving somebody, that's a pretty good trade off. Maybe we saved each other out there."
He gives Shota a look. "So stop blaming yourself, okay? I don't wanna hear about you moping or nothing. Get better and give some Villains hell for me, okay?"
"Oh…okay," Shota says, quietly.
"What was that?"
"Okay!" It's the loudest he's managed to be in several hours. Not a shout, but above the whisper he's been talking at.
It's a lie. He's not okay. It's not okay.
But maybe if he says it enough…
Hound Dog was trying his best to help Shota cope with the memories of what he'd experienced. Trauma was never easy on anyone and his was tied up with a lot of guilt. But the mental health field for Heroes and Hero-trainees had come a long way since his parents' day. He's not expected to just walk it off and go right back into the action.
Hound Dog was surprisingly good with teenagers, despite his fearsome appearance. Carefully, he's walked Shota back through that day. News drones and surveillance drones from the Hero Commission have provided plenty of footage for them to look over, always in short spurts, never more than he could handle at a time.
"Okay," Hound Dog said. "Now that we've looked at the footage, let's treat this as an after-mission report. We can stop at any time, but I want to see how far we can get. Start by telling me where it began."
"Ground Zero and I were on f-f-foot patrol," Shota said, forcing himself to spit the word out. "The Nomu came out of nowhere, like it was dropped out of the sky. Ground Zero threw me out of the way and then engaged. He told me to stay back."
Hound Dog nodded encouragingly. Shota took a breath and went on. The first time watching the video, they hadn't even gotten this far. This was progress. He could do this.
"Ground Zero then engaged with the Nomu. But nothing he did even slowed it down. All his explosions were burning it, but it didn't stop it. At all. Finally…"
The meaty sound of one of the Nomu's fists hitting Ground Zero. The cry of pain and alarm from the Hero. The terribly ringing clang where Ground Zero hit a street light. The dull thud of a body hitting the ground. The Nomu's terrible roar…
"We can stop," Hound Dog said, kindly. He put both hands on Shota's shoulders and Shota was aware he'd been shaking. He put his own hands on top of Hound Dog's, fingers digging into the soft fur. "Stay with me. You're here in my office. Deep breaths. Come back to the present."
Shota took in slow breaths and steadied himself. "I can go on," he said.
"Only if you're sure."
He nodded. He wasn't sure, not really, but he wanted to try. "I can. The Nomu struck Ground Zero, hard enough to send him flying. He hit a street light and didn't get back up right away. It was… It was going to kill him. Right then and there. There was no way Ground Zero was going to get up in time.
"I had to do something."
"Even though Ground Zero told you not to engage," Hound Dog prompted.
"It was going to kill him!" Shota said, more forcefully than he'd meant to. Loose objects on Hound Dog's desk rattled from low-sonic vibrations. But for just a moment, he'd felt for sure that he hadn't made a mistake getting involved. "I didn't have a choice."
Hound Dog nodded again. "Go on."
"So I hit it with one of my really big tones. One of the kind where I can really do some damage. Maybe a little too strong, because I punched a hole right through it. But that still didn't stop it! All I did was get its attention."
Dead skin. A pulsating, exposed brain. A hole all the way through its chest, absent any blood or gore. Burns all over its body, one dead eye. And a roar that froze him in his tracks. All it would have taken was one more second and it would have killed him. He'd braced himself for the terrible blow…
"It attacked me. But I was too afraid to move. But by then, Ground Zero had recovered. He didn't… he didn't look all that steady on his feet. But he attacked it anyway. And it grabbed him and…"
The wet sound of flesh and muscle and bone and nerves separating. The splatter of blood. The scream…
He was shaking again. Hard. The room seemed too small. He couldn't breathe. Shota let out a scream that quickly surpassed normal human volumes and went straight into the hypersonic. Everything in the small office began to rattle, being shaken by the radiating sonic force. Hound Dog clapped his hands over his sensitive ears, whining in pain, his jaw clenched tightly behind his muzzle.
The door to the office flew open, and Uncle Shota was there, his Quirk active and eyes glowing red. Shota's scream faded back into human levels, leaving him coughing. They'd planned this in advance. Uncle Shota had been outside, with a decibel monitor. He couldn't hear their conversation, but just in case he had lost control, his godfather would know and could step in.
"I'm sorry…" Shota said quietly.
Uncle Shota and Hound Dog exchanged a look.
The car pulled to a stop outside a rocky quarry. His godfather was at the wheel, with Hound Dog crammed into the passenger seat. It was Thursday afternoon. They'd ended Wednesday's after his destructive scream.
He missed his friends so much it hurt. Toshi and Izumi and Asuka and Haimawari… But he couldn't face them. And he definitely couldn't face Kirishima-Bakugo. Not with what he'd done to her family…
He got out of the car. He wasn't sure why they were here, but he trusted Uncle Shota and Hound Dog. He looked at them, expectantly.
Hound Dog and Uncle Shota both held what looked like fancy headphones. "We're going to try a little scream therapy," Hound Dog said. "Basically, I want you to focus on all your feelings and emotions about everything that happened. Gather it all up, and then scream and let it go."
"But," Shota began, "last time, I lost control and…"
"That's why we're here," Uncle Shota said. "The local government is planning on demolishing this anyway to make way for a new highway and they've got a crew with earth-moving Quirks lined up. Anything you destroy, it won't matter and might even save them some time. But I'm still here just in case. So you don't have to worry about hurting anyone or anything."
Shota sucked in a sharp breath. There was fear, bubbling under his skin. Every time he thought too hard about what had happened, his Quirk welled up and turned on everything around him. He'd thought for a minute, just maybe, he was getting to understand what had happened, his reactions to it… and then he'd lost control again. And now they wanted him to just let go?
Uncle Shota came over to him and bent down. "Everybody carries their traumas, Shota. Me, Deku, your parents, there's not one person in the Hero field that doesn't have some trauma. But we have to be brave and face it. And sometimes, facing them is running at them head on. But you've got my permission to be afraid. And you've got my permission to let it all out, right here. You'll feel better. Can you do that?"
He nodded. "I… Yes," Shota said quietly.
"Good," Hound Dog said, fitting the headphones over his ears, while Uncle Shota did the same. "Take your time. Let your memories go. And when you're ready… let it all out."
Shota took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Everything was still so fresh, he could see everything that happened so easily. Still hear it. Still feel the terror of that moment.
The coppery scent of blood, the wet stickiness of it on his hands as he tried to keep Ground Zero from bleeding out.
The screams of the Nomu.
The coldness in his own body as terror took him. The feeling of his heart about to pound out of its chest.
The distant, fading look in Ground Zero's eyes.
The sound of tearing flesh.
The dead flesh of the Nomu.
Ground Zero's scream as he was torn into pieces.
There was so much blood… Ground Zero was dying in his hands. He'd started almost making sense, trying to tell him that it wasn't his fault, trying to make sure Shota was the one who was safe. But then he'd started to slip away, talking about his husband, about his daughter, and about his son. Asking for them. Telling them he was sorry. He lost track of where he was and of who Shota was…
If Deku had been even a minute or two late in getting there…
Fear
Death
Guilt
Fear
Death
Guilt
FearDeathGuilt
FearDeathGuild
ALL HIS FAULT!
Shota screamed, without focus, without care. For all that he was a carefree young man, he was also deeply aware of the power of his Quirk. Every frequency he could scream at did something just a little bit different, many of them highly destructive. He had to have some control. But here, for the first time in forever, he deliberately allowed himself to just let go. To scream. To let all his power go out into the universe.
As he screamed, he got louder, rapidly shifting up to higher and higher frequencies, way past loud, way past cacophonic, way past anything. The very air around him seemed to ripple and distort. So great was the power that he was unleashing that even the very air itself was being rent asunder. Raw sound slammed into the walls of the quarry, turning rock into dust in an instant, causing yet more to come crashing down.
Shota screamed, putting into it all of his fear, all of his rage, all his frustration, all his guilt. All the hurt, all the pain, everything he was feeling. The world had lost a great Hero and he'd been unable to do anything to stop it. He'd been so scared, so certain he was going to die and then so certain that Ground Zero was going to die. There was nothing more he wanted in this world than to be a Hero, like his parents, like Uncle Deku, like Shoto, and Ground Zero…
And so he screamed. He screamed at the unfairness of it all. At the end of a major Hero's career. At the terrors that a kid his age should never have seen. At the helplessness he felt. At everything, at all the feelings he couldn't name and all the terrors that still rose up in his heart.
He screamed and screamed and screamed, until there was nothing left to scream for. Shota sank to his knees, gasping for breath. The air was thick with dust from the demolished rock, sending him coughing. Strong arms wrapped around him and picked him up; it was Uncle Shota.
"You did good," Uncle Shota said. "Feel better?"
Shota coughed, hard. His throat felt clogged and scratchy. And he felt tired, so very tired. He'd pushed his Quirk to its absolute limit, unleashed its complete destructive power, let every ounce of energy he had flow through it.
"I do," he said.
And he realized that he meant it. Somehow, in letting all that out, he felt like it wasn't weighing him down quite so much. Before sleep took him, a moment of clarity set itself in. In stark relief, Ground Zero's words, Uncle Shota's words, the events of that day, all played before him. That Nomu had been a monster. So many Heroes had nearly died from how powerful they were and that was without his being there. Ground Zero had taken a blow, because the creature was far faster than anything that big should have been, gotten injured because he was trying to fight while still dazed. It was a fight that would have happened no matter what. A fight that could only have happened because he wasn't killed then and there. What had happened was terrible, but it wasn't his fault. He had seen far more than he should, but it wasn't his fault. Forced to bear terrible burdens, but it wasn't his fault.
Wasn't his fault…
"And then it grabbed Ground Zero and severed his leg from his body," Shota said. He had to take a deep breath to steady himself and he gripped the arms of the plush chair to keep himself from shaking, but he'd gotten even further along in his statements than ever before. Progress.
"And then I panicked," he added. "And used a full power blast from my Quirk on it. Completely destroyed it."
He looked down. "I shouldn't have. Even if it was a robot, I didn't know that. A Nomu's still kind of alive. And Heroes aren't supposed to use lethal force, unless there's no other choice."
Hound Dog nodded. "That probably would have come under review from the Hero Commission. But that's also typical of big events like this in general. Go on, please."
Shota took another breath. "After that, I tried to remember what first aid I could for a severed limb. Try to stop the bleeding, put pressure on the wound. Maybe I should have tried calling for help first... but I felt like I had to do something, anything. I was scared and feeling pretty guilty. And I was crying so bad I could barely see straight…
"And then Unc—Deku. Deku showed up. He got Ground Zero to the hospital. Just in time. He saved his life."
Hound Dog nodded again. "Based on what you've said, it sounds like you saved his life too. At least two, possibly three times. What do you think about that?"
Shota hesitated. Ground Zero had said the same thing. He didn't think he was wrong to get involved. Not anymore. Not completely, anyway. "I think I tried to," he said. "I know it was going to kill him the first time. Everything after that… I don't know. Still trying to sort that out."
"That's okay," Hound Dog told him. "You don't have to have it all figured out now. But that you're trying to sort it out, rather than simply declaring your own fault, is a sign that you're becoming ready to deal with those feelings. That's good. You're talking more too. And louder. Have you noticed?"
That got a nod. "Yeah," he said. "I don't know… but maybe letting everything out like that, that helped push me past something.
"Thank you."
Hound Dog flashed a small grin behind his muzzle. "It's my job to help you with your mental health. But you're welcome."
The counselor scratched something on the notepad he was holding. "How do you feel about going back to school?"
That was that ten million yen question, wasn't it? Did he still want to be a Hero? Seemed like had an awful lot of people still believing in him. He'd even checked his phone messages today and gotten one from Red Riot, a photo of Ground Zero doing physical therapy and the simple word "Thanks." Somehow, instead of making him feel guilty, it made him feel pretty good. Like he'd done something right.
"I'd…," he began, "I'd like to try. Got a lot of people believing in me. Hate to let them down."
Again, Hound Dog was silent for a long moment, before he spoke again. "I'm glad to hear it. I'll sign off on it. Welcome back, Mister Shinso."
Carefully, Shota placed the last of his things in the drawer of his dorm room dresser. He had put away his Ground Zero statues though. He didn't feel as much guilt, but he knew that a few days wasn't enough to get rid of it entirely. One less reminder was probably a good thing for now. He'd probably put them back out eventually.
Toshi and his other friends had been around to welcome him back. They'd been a little cautious, unsure of what to expect from him. Definitely tiptoeing around what had happened. He didn't blame them. Of course, if the situations were reversed, he'd probably be more than a little clueless and would have relied on Asuka or Izumi to rein him in. He knew he tended to get a little excitable and not think things all the way through. But they were all happy to have him back. And he'd been missing them so much. Just being around them had made him feel better. Maybe this would be all right after all.
"Hey."
Shota looked over to the doorway of his room and found Kirishima-Bakugo standing there. She didn't look angry, which was rare. She didn't even have that smile she got before she punched something. She just looked worn out and tired. It was a lot like how he felt, really.
"Oh," he said. "Ah, hi. I'm…"
She held up a hand. "Nope, no talking, Shinso. Not right now." She was using his name? Just like her dad had…
Kirishima-Bakugo walked into his room, not bothering to ask permission. She looked him over and briefly closed her eyes. He could see her lips moving, as though she was rehearsing what she wanted to say. "Look," she said, "I'm not good with words, and I definitely don't need anything interfering with my rep around here. So I'm only going to say this once and you don't get to tell anybody else about this. Do you understand me?"
Shota nodded. This wasn't her usual threats or even her banter or sarcasm. This was full on sincerity. He'd never seen anything like this from her before.
Before he could even fully process that, she had her arms around him and pulled him close. He was the shortest in the class, but she wasn't much taller, her chin bumping up against his forehead. She moved her head slightly, so her mouth was right by his ear.
"Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a trembling whisper, "for saving my dad. He told us what you did. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." With every word, she squeezed him tighter.
"Can't… breathe…" he gasped.
"Oh!" Kirishima-Bakugo let him go. "Sorry, Loud Kid, I… Sorry."
He felt tears well up in his eyes. "I… I'm…"
"Oh, hell no," she said, firmly. "No crying. Absolutely no crying… 'cause if you cry, then I'm gonna…"
They cried. And for a moment, the world was a strange, wet, mixed up place. It only lasted that moment, before Kirishima-Bakugo got control over herself.
She gave him a small smile. A true, sincere, and actual smile. Shota thought she should do it more often. It looked good on her. "Glad to have you back, Loud Kid."
It was good to be back.