Chapter Fifty: Hide-and-Seek

Aisla's back was pressed against a tree as she listened intently for any signs of the Erasure hero. She knew he was stalking in the darkness, but the moonless night made it impossible to see, so all she had to help her were the subtle sounds of footsteps or breathing. Her mentor's quirk was made for stealth, however. As Eraser Head, this was his preferred method of taking care of villains. He would stalk them in the shadows and take them out silently. Aisla didn't have much hope of beating someone like that at his own game.

Come on, Eraser, Aisla thought, make your presence known.

Nothing. Not a whisper of wind, twigs crunching under boots, breath ragged from wandering the dark forest for fifteen minutes. He was as quiet as a mouse and just as sneaky.

She pressed a finger against the earpiece and spoke as softly as she could manage. "Hitoshi, do you have his position?"

She waited for a long moment, wondering if his silence meant the pro hero was nearby. Finally, the earpiece buzzed to life. "No," came the soft reply. "Stay alert."

She nodded in response, even though he couldn't see her, then closed her eyes against the darkness and forced her senses to go beyond their limits. She concentrated on the shifting of air, or a change in smell drifting over to her that would indicate someone's presence. She activated her quirk and forced images of endless forest, even though using her quirk for too long gave her a migraine. It was also impossible to tell if it was working. Was she really reflecting images of trees into thin air? She'd never know in this dark environment. For all she knew, she was just imagining trees so hard that she was about to pop a blood vessel. She also knew that none of that mattered, because if he was wearing his goggles, Aisla would have no hope in stopping him.

I have to try! she reminded herself, determined to win this silly game. This was the third time they'd practiced with part of her quirk, and so far it was Eraser - 3, Aisla and Hitoshi - 0. It was unfair how good their instructor was at being stealthy.

Ten more minutes went by, and Aisla was starting to grow bored and restless. She knew this was part of his test. He wanted to teach them patience and self-control. They had to learn that some things took time, and they couldn't just give up when it seemed safe. When a villain was around, safety was never guaranteed.

So, Aisla steeled herself and adjusted the blue goggles over her eyes. She wasn't allowed a capture scarf like Hitoshi, much to her dismay, but after she'd brought her costume Eraser Head goggles to practice one night, she'd mysteriously received a box at her door the following morning. Inside, was a nearly identical pair of slitted eye goggles, but instead of the orange-yellow hue of Eraser Head's, the one's he'd gifted her were a vivid blue that matched her eyes and hero costume.

"You sent me a present," she'd accused him at class the next morning.

"I'm certain I don't know what you're talking about," he'd muttered without meeting her gaze. "I don't send gifts to my students, Miss Haru."

But maybe your favorite student, she thought as she brushed the sides of her goggles with her fingers, a goofy grin set on her face. She couldn't be positive they were from the man himself, but she was pretty sure he was the one who'd sent them. There hadn't been a name, just a hastily scrawled note that read: 'stop wearing merch to training,' and a poorly drawn doodle of what she thought was supposed to be either a cat or a devil in the bottom corner. It was kind of hard to tell.

"Anything?" Hitoshi's voice murmured over the earpiece.

Aisla listened for a moment before responding, making sure the near-silent static didn't alert the pro to her presence. "I think he's baiting us," she breathed.

"Hold your position," he suggested, then the line went dead once more.

Just as he hung up, Aisla heard a voice penetrate the darkness.

"I know where you are…" came the low, terrifying drawl of Eraser Head. Mr. Aizawa's voice was more flat and emotionless, but as the pro hero, his tone turned deadly.

Aisla covered her mouth with one hand so she wouldn't be tempted to gasp at his sudden proximity. Still, she couldn't hear his movements around her and couldn't detect exactly where he was. For all she knew, he could be coming straight for her, masked in the darkness.

Aisla couldn't say for sure if he actually knew where she was or if he was trying to draw her out, so she stayed as still and silent as she could. Slowly, she allowed her body to move into a crouch so she would be harder to see if he happened to walk by. Not that he wasn't smart enough to look down, but the millisecond it took him to shift his gaze could be just what she needed to use her quirk against him.

She'd dropped the façade her quirk tried to create a while ago, and now she had to reactivate it to form new scenery before he realized where she was. If he'd already spotted her, it wouldn't work on him. Hopefully, he'd been bluffing and would walk right past her without even realizing it.

The goal of this game was for Aisla and Hitoshi to get Eraser to walk right back into the clearing where he'd started. If they could manage that, they would win. There was no time limit other than curfew, which was nine o'clock. Aisla didn't have a watch, but she was pretty sure it was well past seven now. She was going to be late to her meeting with Bakugo and Shoto at this rate.

Ignoring that concern, Aisla worked to create a false world around her, letting the trees conceal her and protect her from view. She wasn't very good at creating illusions when she couldn't look into someone's eyes, so she had to bring their color and shape into her mind as a reminder of who she was trying to trick. It hadn't worked so far, so she wasn't very confident, but the whole thing was just so exciting to her, she didn't mind. What had started as a chore and an obstacle she was sure would be impossible to overcome, had become an exciting challenge. They were basically playing a glorified game of hide-and-seek, but the stakes were higher, and the use of quirks made it feel more daring and thrilling.

Crunch

Aisla perked up at the slight crack of a twig. It was the first sound she'd heard all night, so it was probably just an animal, but…

She pushed the limits of her quirk, bringing forth the image of empty space where she sat and an open field directly in front of her. Her hope was that the pro would be fooled into thinking he'd accidentally got turned around and was now facing the real clearing. He would then go back the way he'd come, and Aisla could guide him all the way to the starting point.

"Aisla?" Hitoshi's whispered voice flooded into her ear, breaking her concentration momentarily.

Shut up, she silently begged. She couldn't exactly respond with Eraser Head right next to her. She stayed quiet and hoped Hitoshi would understand. She focused her mind once more, but this time the image was faultier than she'd intended. It flickered like a TV with bad reception. She could see it in her mind, and desperately tried to make the image still again.

After a long moment of concentration, she felt the picture in her mind steady itself and resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief that it was working properly.

"Aisla!" Hitoshi hissed through the earpiece. The image shattered once more, and this time she couldn't hold back the irritated breath.

Take a hint! she wanted to scream at him. They were this close to catching their teacher off-guard. They would finally win this game and make him proud!

"Eraser Head is in view," Hitoshi hissed. "He's coming your way."

Aisla froze. Her body reacted before her mind did. She couldn't fathom the icy chill that rooted her suddenly to the forest floor. Slowly, second by second, she let the puzzle pieces click together. Hitoshi was on the opposite side of the forest from her; there was no way he could see their mentor if…

"Time to come out, little hero~" sang the same throaty voice from before, the one she'd thought belonged to her teacher.

She should have known better. She knew Eraser Head's voice. How many times as a kid had she replayed the clips of him on her family's television? How many times had she listened to the sound of his voice blaring through the speakers? And not only that, she'd been his protégé now for months. This wasn't the first time they'd trained together. This wasn't the first time she'd heard the sound of his voice in this exact setting. She hadn't been paying attention, too focused on keeping up the illusion to realize that the person who'd spoken was not Mr. Aizawa.

True panic rose up within her, making her body shake and her breath start to grow heavy. She clamped a hand over her mouth once more and closed her eyes, concentrating on casting the illusions she wanted out so whoever was around would leave.

"Don't play coy, little girl~ I know you're there…"

Don't make a sound, she coached herself. Her quirk wasn't stable—the façade was crumbling before her eyes, threatening to disappear entirely and give away her position. She desperately clung to the strands that remained and molded them into what she wanted. All she needed was a few seconds of disbelief that would turn the stranger away. All she had to do was stay silent and keep the image she wanted to portray as steady as possible.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are~" The voice turned impossibly deeper and more terrifying.

Aisla's eyes dripped with tears, but she didn't allow herself to let the fear take her over. If this was a villain, then she couldn't let them know she was there.

But how? How did a villain get into the school? Security measures had increased in the past year, but it wouldn't be the first time villains had gotten through UA's defenses.

She wished she could contact her teacher somehow, but even a whisper to Hitoshi through the earpiece could draw the attention of this other man. All she could do was try to stay hidden until her teacher found her…or the villain got far enough away that she could make a run for it.

You can't see me, you can't see me! She silently panicked as footsteps came closer and closer. She cast the image out, showing the stranger a blocked path before him, a reflection of bushes and vines, and hoping he took the bait.

"Shit," came the whispered curse from a few feet away.

She couldn't open her eyes, couldn't move or breathe. He was right there, so close she could feel the shift in the air and smell a foul odor wafting over to her. She stayed as still as possible, focusing only on the scene she wanted him to see.

"Fucking forest," he grumbled.

Aisla heard the sound of boots scraping against the ground, and then retreating almost silently away. Still, she kept up the false setting, following his progress with her mind as she tried to guide him into the clearing where she hoped Mr. Aizawa would be waiting.

She was sweating so much the goggles slipped from her eyes and droplets plopped onto her shirt alongside her tears. The heat was so intense she thought she might pass out, and her head felt like it was seconds away from exploding. She'd never had to keep her quirk up for so long before. The strain might kill her before the villain did if she wasn't careful.

I can't afford to be careful, she thought as she listened to the sounds of his retreat. She waited until she was certain he was still following the path she'd created, then allowed a barely audible breath to speak into the earpiece.

"Hitoshi…" she said, voice shaky and full of fear.

"Aisla!" he hissed, relieved to finally hear her voice. "Did Eraser—"

"Help. Me." she breathed into the mic. "Send Aizawa."

"Don't move," Hitoshi instructed at once, without even asking for more information. He'd been taught well, even if neither of them had ever been in a real villain attack before. He didn't need to keep asking questions. If Aisla requested help from their mentor, then he knew it was for a good reason.

She trembled there against the tree, legs burning from the strain of holding her position, feet numb and back aching. She was finding it harder to hold onto the form she'd created. Exhaustion, fear, and pain made keeping her quirk active a struggle. She still hadn't mastered this skill yet, and now she was forced to use it for real. Her eyes burned and her skull was splitting. She wondered if this was how the Erasure hero felt when he was up against real villains and had to keep his quirk activated for longer than his usual limit.

"Aisla…" Hitoshi's voice whispered to her. "Don't move. Aizawa's coming."

Aisla didn't move. She didn't even breathe for so long she felt faint and nearly fell over onto her side. She caught herself with one hand and let out a gasp before remembering to cover her mouth. Sobs were threatening more now, and her vision started to go black. She was going to either cry or pass out. Either way, she would give herself away and—

"Miss Haru…?" A familiar rough tone murmured nearby.

Mr. Aizawa, she thought, but still she couldn't force herself to move or make a sound. Fear stole her voice and paralyzed her. She'd already mistaken someone else as her teacher tonight. What if this was another trap? What if he wasn't even here at all and she was imagining it?

"Miss Haru," he said louder, voice moving closer now.

Say something! she silently screamed at herself. Before he goes away! But the fear of not knowing for certain held her tongue. Her teeth clamped down on it so hard, the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, and still she couldn't speak.

"AISLA!" he shouted, loud enough to make her jump and let out another gasp.

Footsteps hurried in her direction. Aisla cowered there, still afraid that the villain was playing a trick on her and pretending to be her teacher.

"Aisla, goddammit, where are you?!" he yelled. She knew he was close, but the image in her mind stayed firm, blocking his view of her even as he stomped around her. "Aisla…" he spoke softer now but still firm. "Drop the reflection. Let me find you."

Aisla shuddered and did as he asked, praying the villain wouldn't be standing right in front of her when she opened her eyes.

"There you are!"

Aisla let out a shrill scream when rough hands gripped her shoulders. "Stop flailing, it's me!" he said, keeping a firm grip on her. "Aisla, you're okay! Open your eyes, dammit. You're okay." He gave her another shake, and her eyes popped open, landing on wide, dark eyes the color of burning ash. "Aisla," he breathed.

She suddenly gripped his shirt in tight fists. "Mr. Aizawa," she sobbed, "th-there's a villain. He tried to—"

"No, Aisla." Her teacher tried to peel her hands from his shirt but her grip was too strong. Her hands shook violently in the thick fabric as her eyes danced with uncontrolled terror.

"He almost got to me!" she cried, hands tugging as if to shake sense into the man. "I tried to use that move on him. I tried sending him to the clearing. You have to go—"

"Aisla!" he snapped, gripping the sides of her arms now and forcing her to look him in the eyes. "You're fine, okay? You were never in danger. The villain wasn't real."

Tears dripped between them, filling the momentary silence with their barely audible plops, like rain dripping onto the floor.

"What?" she finally hissed through clenched teeth.

Mr. Aizawa let out a long sigh and let go of her arms. "I'm sorry, Miss Haru. The villain was staged. I asked another faculty member to lend a hand tonight. I was trying to help you get control of your quirk. I knew that if you thought you were being threatened, you'd be able to use that adrenaline to fuel the fire needed to spark your quirk into action. And it worked. You finally did it, just like I knew you could."

Pride shown in his eyes as he looked down at her.

Aisla stared at him in disbelief for a long time while the panic left her body. Finally, her eyes hardened and her fist clenched. He had only a moment to widen his eyes before Aisla swung out a fist that connected painfully with the side of his jaw. He stumbled onto his rear, clutching the abused cheek and staring at her with an almost hurt expression.

"How dare you!" she seethed, anger kindling inside of her at the memory of what just happened.

Lies. It had all been lies.

"I hardly think that reaction was appropriate," he muttered, shifting onto his knees. He was either scowling or pouting, she couldn't tell which, and she didn't have the energy to care. "It wasn't a real attack."

"But it felt like it to me!" she screamed at him. "I was terrified! I thought I was going to die. Don't you get it?! I haven't been in a real villain attack like the rest of your students!"

His eyes widened, this time in surprise. "I…didn't mean for it to go that far. I'm sorry. I just wanted to push you a little, encourage you to go that extra mile."

"That wasn't the way to do it," she said hoarsely. "You have no idea how scared I—" Sobs took over her body and she crumpled there, burying her face in her hands as she finally let herself feel all the emotions she'd tried to push down.

Strong arms wrapped around her in an awkward embrace. "I'm sorry, Aisla," he said again. "I'm sorry I pushed too hard, but the only reason I did was because I believe in you. When I was younger, I spent too much time wallowing in self pity because no one helped me to control my quirk or learn about its various abilities. I don't want that to happen to you. I want you to become a hero, Aisla, and I want you to be confident while you do it."

She wept into his chest until running footsteps sounded behind them and he started to shove her away. Still, she clung to him like an anchor, even if part of her was angry that he'd deceived her.

"Aisla! Mr. Aizawa! What happened?!" Hitoshi's frantic voice spoke up behind her.

"Here." Mr. Aizawa suddenly stood with Aisla in his arms and deposited her unceremoniously into Hitoshi's surprised hold. "Take her to Recovery Girl. Have her checked out for injury, then make sure she sees Dr. Fujinari right after." He paused. "Maybe find Todoroki, too." Then he was gone, and Aisla was left shaking in her friend's arms.

"It's nice to see you again, Miss Haru."

Aisla was slumped in her usual chair, hands resting casually in her lap, eyes tilted away from the counselor. She wasn't a stranger to this man anymore—she'd come to see him multiple times already—but she still didn't like looking him directly in the eyes. His expression, the one he worked so hard to keep hidden from her, always made her uncomfortable. Like he wasn't a real person, or he was putting on some act. She wanted to see real reactions from him. At the same time, she hoped she never would.

"It's late," she noted in a clipped tone.

She saw his nod from the corner of her eye. "It's a bit late," he agreed, "but I always have time to talk. Do you want to tell me why you're here this evening?"

Aisla let out a sigh. "I think Mr. Aizawa's worried that he traumatized me," she replied honestly.

It was a testament to his skill that he made no visible reaction to this statement. "I see," he said after a beat as he adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose. "And why would he have that concern?"

"We were training…" she whispered. Her eyes closed as images flooded through her brain. She did her best to recount the night's events without giving too many details—the fear still clung to her like a vise. "It was all a lie, though," she finished bitterly.

"Hmm." He leaned back in his chair and draped a leg over one knee as he studied her. "The scenario you found yourself in may have been false, but the fear you felt, Miss Haru, was real. Based on what you've told me, you were presented with a scene that was meant to evoke strong feelings within yourself in order to force your quirk to come to the surface. That can be traumatizing, and it's okay to feel like you're not okay. Real or not, the encounter you had triggered something inside of you. Would you like to talk about it today?"

Aisla bit her lip. She didn't really want to talk about it, but she'd learned from her few visits to Dr. Fujinari's office that talking helped more often than not.

Finally, she shrugged. "I was scared," she admitted quietly. Her fingers absentmindedly twirled her hair while she thought of how to express her emotions. "I panicked when I thought there was a villain after me because, unlike the rest of my class, I've never been involved in a real attack before. It was like reality had punched me in the gut. I've always wanted to be a hero, and seeing villains on TV never bothered me before…" She paused to catch her breath. "But experiencing that firsthand was something entirely different. And then to find out all of these feelings I had weren't even real makes me feel even worse."

"And why does that make you feel worse?" he asked kindly.

Aisla shrugged. "I was forced to feel like I was in a situation that didn't really happen. I thought I was making a life or death decision, and was terrified of my quirk not being enough to defend me. I thought I might die out there, but there was never any real danger. I didn't really make any progress with my quirk tonight because it was all just a huge lie!"

Dr. Fujinari twisted his lips in thought. "I can see where you're coming from," he answered slowly, "but I also believe that, whether the encounter was real or not, you acted very heroic. And now you know that when you come across an actual villain, your powers will be enough to save not only you but your friends as well."

Aisla pouted. "Yeah, well it still sucks."

"It does suck," he agreed seriously. "Your pain is valid, Miss Haru. You're entitled to whatever you're feeling. The hurt, the anger and betrayal, the confusion over not understanding what happened to you are all valid emotions. You went through something traumatizing. It doesn't matter what anyone else believes the severity of the situation to be, in your mind it was a real trauma."

Aisla shuddered. "I don't want to think about it anymore," she decided. "Now I'm afraid to go into the forest."

"That's a perfectly reasonable response to have," he allowed with a bob of his head. "Trauma affects the brain in multiple ways. One of these ways is derived from emotional trauma which can create an overactivity in the amygdala. This creates a sense of fear from a specific event, smell, sight. Anything can trigger a reaction."

"How do I make it go away?" she asked in a small voice.

"Sometimes it's not as easy as just 'making' it go away," he answered honestly. "It may take time before you're able to be in that type of situation again that might trigger that same fear inside of you. Trust goes a long way in helping with recovery," he added after a moment of thought. "If you trust someone enough, that can help you to overcome the trauma associated with specific situations."

I really hope you're right, she thought.

They talked for a while longer, and then he deemed her well enough to leave. He asked to see her again in a few days, to which she just shrugged in response. She didn't want to come back, but they both knew she would.

She left the office and wasn't surprised to see Mr. Aizawa leaning against the wall opposite her, arms folded casually across his chest, and one foot propped up on the wall. His eyes were closed, too, as if he'd fallen asleep waiting for her. They opened slowly when Aisla came into the hallway and appraised her with concern.

"Are you still angry with me?" he asked.

She wanted to say yes, but the slightly purplish bruising on his cheek made her bite back the response.

"I deserved it," he murmured without meeting her eyes. He cleared his throat and pushed away from the wall. "Come on, Miss Haru. I'm walking you back whether you want me to or not."

Aisla actually did prefer to have some company since she had to walk to a different part of campus to reach her dorm. She wasn't comfortable walking around at night alone after what just happened. Even if it had only been Snipe out there, Aisla still couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her and waiting to strike.

"You're still shaking," her teacher observed.

Aisla shrugged.

He sighed. "Look… It was wrong of me to put you in that position. I thought you could handle it, but I should have known better after everything else you've been through recently. Also, I know you haven't been in any real villain attacks like the rest of your classmates, so it was wrong of me to assume you wouldn't react poorly."

Aisla scowled. "You're making me feel pathetic," she muttered irritably.

"I wasn't trying to imply that you aren't good enough, Miss Haru," he said. "Quite the opposite. I overestimated your abilities because I believe you are far more capable than you realize. I knew it was a risk to put you in that situation unknowingly, but I felt it was worth helping you to hone your skills. I know you're angry with me right now, but I really am proud of you for what you've accomplished."

"I'm not angry…" she admitted softly. "I'm a little hurt, but I'll be okay. You're still my favorite hero, Eraser Head."

"Please don't ever say that out loud again," he groaned.

She giggled. "Okay, but I'm still going to think it."

"Think whatever you want," he agreed flatly, "just do it silently."

"Deal!"

He left her at her bedroom door and bid her goodnight before disappearing down the hallway like a retreating shadow.

Aisla let out a languid sigh before pushing into her room and locking the door behind her. She immediately shed her sweaty clothes and tossed them into the hamper in her closet before turning to her dresser in search of some pajamas. She didn't have many pairs and was in desperate need of a dedicated laundry day, so her options were pretty limited.

She poked through her drawers, frowning at the lack of clothing available, until her fingers finally closed around something she hadn't worn in a long time. It was tucked away in the very back of the drawer, hidden behind shorts and other shirts she wore for training or on weekends when a uniform wasn't required. She fingered the soft, black fabric for a long time before finally pulling it out and taking it with her to her bed.

The shirt wasn't anything remarkable—it was plain black with a gray stripe across the front as if someone dipped their hand in paint and swiped it across the fabric. It was one she used to wear frequently, but in recent times it had been forgotten, either purposely or accidentally, she couldn't say. Now, it was a painful reminder of why it had been buried in the back of her drawer, and why she hadn't worn it once in the last two months.

Why do I still have this? she wondered as she lifted the shirt up to her face and breathed in its familiar scent. Surprisingly, it still smelled like him, even after all this time. She'd washed it, of course, but it still carried the lingering scent that belonged to her former lover. She remembered how comforted she used to feel when she'd wear this, like she was wrapped in his embrace.

She knew the right thing to do would be to return it to its spot in the back of the drawer, or give it back to its owner, but something made her hesitate. She recalled Dr. Fujinari's words: "If you trust someone enough, that can help you to overcome the trauma associated with specific situations…"

She sat the shirt down on her bed and stood up. She walked in just her underwear to the desk and pulled open a drawer. Inside, sat a single piece of folded up paper. She took it out and read the words for the hundredth time, even though she already had them memorized. It was the note he'd given her on the rooftop a few days ago—his true feelings immortalized in ink, more honest and raw than any words he'd ever spoken.

Aisla,

I know I'm not a good person. I'm abrasive, cruel, I never say or do the right things. I've hurt you in more ways than I can count—I've taken your kindness for granted…and your feelings. I know I overreacted when you gave me that picture on your birthday, but those words… I've never been someone who believes in that stuff. Feelings are just something I don't have much control over. My instinct is always to lash out and bite. You've always been so much better at expressing your feelings, and sometimes I don't know how to react.

I don't feel things like you do, Aisla. Maybe I got it from my shitty mom, but I've been mean my whole life. Then, you came along and all of that started to change, no matter how hard I tried to deny it. I tried not to feel the things I did; I tried to keep you at a distance so I wouldn't hurt you, but I just couldn't stay away. I know that everything's wrong now, and it's all my fault, but I had to let you know how I felt. This is the only way I can do that right now. It's cowardly and unheroic, but I can't make myself say the words I need to say to you out loud just yet.

I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I wish I could take it all back. I'm trying to fix the damage now, but I know that it's probably too late for that.

I'm sorry, Aisla…

I'm sorry for taking you for granted.

I'm sorry that I rejected you over and over.

I'm sorry I didn't treat you the way that you deserved to be treated.

I'm sorry for letting you slip through my fingers so many times.

Most of all…I'm sorry I couldn't say what I wanted to say to you that night. I won't say it now because it won't mean anything coming from a scrap of paper, but one day, I'll be brave enough to say it. Maybe in a week, or a month, or in five years, but I promise you that someday…I WILL tell you.

"And I'll be waiting," she whispered into the silence before refolding the note and placing it back in the drawer. She slipped on the t-shirt and slid under the covers. She allowed the familiar scent to calm her racing heart and pull her into a much needed sleep.

Reviews:

CamiStark13 : Hahaha, don't worry, it won't stay sad forever! Thank you for the review! I really appreciate you taking the time to say something!

Beta: yellowchikadee