Chapter 3: Flood

(CW: Mentions and descriptions of Blood, mild descriptions of a corpse, underlying abandonment issues, nothing major)

Aug 7th, XX45, 5:05pm

If all the rabbits in the world decided to cry, the world would be flooded.

Maybe it was the stress of the situation, never knowing what was going to happen next.

Maybe it was being trapped away from a proper-normal-life, bitterly jealous of those people who took it for granted.

Maybe it was that this was the third time he saw Eraserhead today.

Maybe, just maybe, it was that no matter how often he interacted with the people around his home, or in his life, only one person was willing to listen.

Whatever the reason, whatever the cause or the buildup, Izuku wept.

He was tired. Fried.

Izuku: the boy with one name, Izuku: the rabbit in the moon, Izuku: delivery boy, Izuku: roof hopper- the list goes on.

So, stressed out and crying, staring directly at Eraserhead, Izuku does what he always does when he is upset.

He shifts.

-o-

5:something pm

Aizawa didn't know what to do.

It seemed, in regards to this child (kami, he was just a kid), he often didn't know what to do.

He had stepped out to let Yogurt out, and then he saw the kid.

Something about the surprised look on the boy's face said "I've had enough". Something about how he flinched back, rings to rival Aizawa's own under his eyes, hair limp around his face, and tears pooling, said that one more straw would break his back. If Aizawa was a little more empathetic, he might be inclined to cry with him.

Aizawa was anything but empathetic, so he kept their eye contact, the initial shock turning to curiosity.

And then, as the tears spilled over, clothes crumpled and the boy was gone again, and Aizawa was starting to realize that maybe the boy didn't just disappear, or turn to air. And maybe he was just as real and solid as he was at the corner store, or on the roof of the shrine.

And maybe he was just a kid, a worn thin, tall and gangly, tired little kid, who maybe just needed someone who wasn't going to ask a favor.

For someone as rational and real as Aizawa, all those maybe's were a little too loose-especially when he had a beer and a half in his system.

-o-

6:00pm

Over the years, ignoring personal preference, Izuku found it easier to go out without shoes. Considering the fact that shoes were expensive, clothes did not shift with Izuku, and Izuku was technically homeless, jobless(and a minor), Shoes were one less thing Izuku needed to deal with. He was sad that he left his favorite hoodie on Hase's Balcony, though.

It was comfy.

The small black rabbit ran past apartments, streets and alleys, and the cats within. He launched himself through neighborhoods, following the scent of trees beyond his beloved shrine.

And then he stilled.

Tall ears twitched with a little green nose, the vague sense of peace washed over him, and Izuku felt a little less like breaking down.

The cool thing about being a rabbit is that he could pretend that he was always a rabbit. The simple pleasure of bounding through the trees, and filling his stomach with things directly from the forest floor. The sun was half set, sending a gleam through the forest trees and Izuku could never ask for anything more beautiful than the cypress and cedar tree foliage layering on the earth..

He was cut away from the world, and it was thrilling.

-o-

5:35pm

The phone rang once, twice, thrice, before it picked up.

"Yellow!" the voice nearly screamed through the phone,"Whaaaaaaats Uuuuuuuup!"

Eraserhead stared at the fat cat in his lap for a moment before putting the phone to his ear again, "I, I think I know how he kept escaping me." he shifted in his seat for a moment, the cat hair on his couch clinging to his sweatpants.

"Eraser! My Man! How's it hangin'? Whaddya mean, whaddya mean? Does he turn invisible? Can he disappear? Oh! Is he actually a ghost?" the cackling on the other end of the line echoed through the house, it took a minute for it to subside long enough for him to respond.

"Hizashi," Aizawa really did try his best, even if his idiot friend was and endless void of noise, "He's a rabbit, transformative and mutation quirk, saw him do it from my balcony," and that seemed to grab the attention from the other end of the phone call.

The cackling came to an abrupt pause, just as Yogurt launched herself from his lap, meowing at every step.

"Shota, what." ah yes, the want of an explanation he had no way to give, "Shota, What the F- Shota what does that mean?" if only Shota knew, "What do you mean from your balcony?"

Shota wanted a nap.

"Hizashi?"

The questions paused for him to speak, "Do me a favor?"

"Hmmm, whats up, Sho?"

"Shut the fuck up."

And with that he hung up.

Aizawa felt as if everything in the world had come to a stop, an echo of progress halted for the sake of a single boy. Said boy had been nothing but an enigma of tentative smiles and long green curls; someone once said that the people with the saddest stories looked the happiest.

Aizawa vaguely wondered if that applied to a young shoeless boy he had seen on his neighbors balcony.

Probably.

Aizawa was a man of logic-something that had worked against him recently- and logic said that he was to catch the boy, find out if he needs help, then drop the subject entirely.

Aizawa was also a man with a bleeding heart that he hid in a desperate plea to protect it. Not that he would ever admit it.

So he sat on his couch and went back and forth on what to do next.

On one hand, he could pursue the child with the intention of arrest, effectively putting him in government custody. On the other hand he was aching, he wanted so badly to keep the boy (he was so young-why did it still surprise him?).

Keep him close so that he had no reason to be scared, no reason to do favors for the people in South Mustuafu like he heard the boy did.

A part of him wanted to do his job-the more painful side said to hold him close.

Not something he hadn't felt before, but for some reason it hurt more this time than it had ever hurt in the past.

Maybe he should call up Nedzu, maybe The Rat would know what to do.

-o-

6:07pm

Something Hummed in the air.

The kind of capital "H" Humm that could mean disaster. The kind of Humm that meant any chance of play was abruptly cut. An energetic movement caught on the breeze that he could feel through his fur, from the tips of his ears, vibration passing through him to the tip of his tail.

He had been bounding through his usual path when he felt it. Possibly a fox spotted him, but that was unlikely considering that once it could smell him it would leave.

But it was something. Something had left a trace of hurt or aggression in the grass and Izuku was going to find it.

Breeze slid like a venom through the trees and Izuku felt it tighten around his spine.

There. He was sure of it.

He passed a group of rocks and froze as the lazy wind carried a scent to his nose.

Run. copper copper bloodbloodbloodcopperblood-Run.

-o-

5:43pm

From: NedzuStaff

To: AizawaShStaff

Aizawa-Sensei,

Thank you for your willingness to reach out! Imagine my pleasure when one of my favorite staff members reached out to Little Ol' Me regarding a personal issue.

I appreciate your willingness to ask for help, and hope that this can help you.

One:

You know more than anyone else that an interesting specimen is worth looking into-your vigilante boy seems to be hiding a little more than a history. Possibly his apparent lack of records hold more secrets than a conclusive paper on any subject could carry. That is to say, in your position, I would put as many resources I could into figuring out this puzzle.

Two:

Regardless of emotional investment-which I know for a fact you are trying to ignore-This boy is so intriguing that if you do not snatch him up, I will.

He seems a valuable member to my little circle of informants, and I am more than willing to go out of my way to get what I want.

Conclusions:

Get Him Fast, Eraserhead. You bringing him to my attention was either the best or worst thing you could have done.

Regards and Well Wishes,

Principal Nedzu, Your Friend.

Aizawa stared at the response in his Inbox, the looming threat sent a shiver down his spine, urging him to snatch the brat off the streets faster. He scrambled to send his response, hoping to hope that he could get the boy faster than Nedzu.

To: NedzuStaff

From: AizawaShStaff

Nedzu-Sama,

FUCK

respectfully,

Aizawa

-o-

6:27pm

He was running faster faster faster than he had ever run before.

Izuku doesn't think he has ever run faster in all his life.

His hind legs were crossing in front of his forepaws, launching him from grass to asphalt, through alleys, past people, over obstacles in the road.

He ran, he ran, he ran, urgency in his blood, heart going a million miles an hour-he doesn't know where to go-where would he go?

He bolts past Granny's house, past the sounds of Kaya yelling, past the smell of fresh tea, steam pouring off a teapot in upward spirals.

Past familiar corner stores and the rank smells of urine covered alleys and pooling garbage.

He doesn't think he will be able to help.

Hell, he doesn't think.

He is running running running, his feet knowing where to go, even if his mind is blank.

-o-

6:00pm

Aizawa decided, as of right now, that he was going to figure out the puzzle that is the Chang'e Hare.

The boy had evaded him, surprised him, hurt his heart by existing, and done no wrong besides hop some roofs. What was Aizawa to do but keep him from Nedzu, in the desperate hope that this invisible creature of a boy would escape the fate of Nedzu's tutelage.

It seemed he was desperate for a lot of things these days.

He could only hope that desperation was enough to get him what he needed.

-o-

6:49pm

He could see the apartments not too far ahead, tall unassuming buildings full of small unassuming people.

He could smell gasoline, the dumpster ahead, too, the sounds of someone's yapping dog, the concrete beneath his feet, all these things he could feel, hear, see, but all of them were muted by Izuku's Need.

-o-

6:23pm

Aizawa felt as if he and the boy kept just missing each other.

Never quite meeting in the middle.

He hoped that would change soon.

-o-

6:52pm

Izuku saw the balcony door midair and realized something important.

He overshot his jump.

-o-

Aizawa was feeding his cats for the last time that day, their fluffy bodies curling around his ankles in delight at the kibbles and tuna in their bowls.

He let his lip curl up at their cute faces, meowing and humming in excitement.

That is until he heard the loud THUNK against his sliding glass door.

The small smile on his face fell in an instant, regaining the passive look it usually held as he slipped his capture weapon on.

He crept to the door, expecting anything from a knocked out bird to a potential burglar at-he looked at the clock-6:52 pm? Aizawa flung the curtain and the door open in an instant, and in front of the dried houseplants that took up his balcony, there lay the same black and green rabbit he saw on his neighbors balcony only hours before. It's ears were plastered to the back of it's head and it's front paws were cradling it's head.

The boy, his brain supplied, seemed distracted for a moment with his bruised head, and Aizawa quickly picked him up with his scarf and brought him inside.

The rabbit tensed in his scarf, wide eyes opening to glance at him as he dropped the rabbit on his couch. They stared at each other for a moment before the wild eyes of the boy bugged, the small creature hopping off the couch with ease, and started thumping his back legs in distress.

If Aizawa had a death wish, he would have compared the scared reaction of the boy to when Miruko was about to hop into battle. He, however, had no intention of eliciting the Pro Hero's rage, so he kept he thought quickly locked up on the inside with all his other controversial opinions. Like, if Nedzu should have rights, or, in the case of a classroom full of idiots, assigning a 10 page essay on the in depth analysis of the 43rd and 62nd pros on the popularity charts that year.

The brat in rabbit form that was thumping a circle into his floor quickly drew his gaze again when he jumped onto Aizawa leg, pushing and shoving for his attention.

"What? You and I have come across each other three times in the last 24 hours and now, now you need something?" The man huffed his question with little to no malice, just irritation at the boy- who seemed to pause, eyeing Shota with an impatient gaze, before bolting to his front door with no response.

He could only suppose he was supposed to follow the brat.

-o-

He pawed and scrabbled and tried to communicate to the man that something was terribly awfully wrong and Izuku needed his help more than he needed air to breathe.

He ran around Eraserheads living room, ignoring the curious cats in the kitchen, and thumped thumped thumped around in a circle to communicate his pure terror to the man.

Not that he seemed to get it, if that eyebrow raise was anything to go by.

When Izuku had sufficiently achieved his attention, he did what he does (second) best: He ran.

The second the front door was open, he bolted down the hall, past the welcome mat, past the old garbage bags and he tumbled down the stairs in his rush. At the base of the stairs Izuku paused, only to make sure he hadn't lost the man like he had so many times before because this time it was important for the man to see what he saw, to hear what he had heard, to smell the blood layering into the moss and stone of the forest floor.

Izuku has seen and heard and experienced things he knows are wrong. Been privy to conversations that were harmful and full of bad intentions. He has seen death in the elders and druggies of the neighborhood, heard of acts of violence that could curdle blood, but he has never been more unsure than now.

[he leaps over something in the road, hoping and praying that Aizawa is just behind him; all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears]

He knows that in almost any other situation, he would act without thought (he supposes he did this time too, but that isn't the point), but somehow seeing the aftermath of something he could not control is more painful than he could have ever imagined.

Granny once said that pain as striking as failure or inability to act is more shame than anything else, things of pride should be saved until the battle is over to keep the victims to a minimum.

Izuku also knows that his internal conflict only hinders him, but his excuse is that he is still learning.

As he skids around a corner and comes closer to his shine again (past Granny's house, past the eerie quiet only claimed by early evening and dead of night, past the rushing sounds echoing behind him that he can only hope is Aizawa) he leads the man past the shrine, only hesitating at the line of trees that lead to his path.

Izuku doesn't want to sleep at the shrine tonight.

Izuku really doesn't want to go home.


(Notes: Hello! can I just say... WOW the attention the peeps here gave me OVER NIGHT! astronomical. amazing. you unyielding fools deserve the world, thank you. Hope you enjoyed the Chapter, be safe babes)