Drip... Drip... Drip..
Shouta shifts in bed, the sheets and blankets achingly cold around him, like he's just crawled in and they haven't had a chance to warm up yet.
There's a dull pain seeping into his bones, and no matter how much he rolls around he just can't seem to get comfortable. He shuffles around blindly, seeking the promised warmth of a sleeping body he's unable to find.
His eyelids feel impossibly heavy as he peers around the room, bleary-eyed and confused.
There, near the window...
"Hnn... H'zashi. Come back t' bed..." Shouta mumbles sleepily, reaching an arm out towards his husband. His vision refuses to focus, causing his surroundings to appear fuzzy around the edges.
Hizashi's hair glows gold in the light of the morning sun, almost ethereal in the otherwise dark room.
It wasn't unusual for Hizashi to be the first one out of bed. He's a busy person, constantly on the move and taking care of this or that. But it's still early, the room bathed in gentle light that does nothing to warm the still air.
Hizashi still hasn't turned to look at him.
"...Zashi?"
"Do you still recognize me, Shouta?" Hizashi's voice asks, so soft it's barely audible. At ends with his typically exuberant tone. "Can you?"
It sets something in Shouta on-edge, concern swirling deep in his chest.
Something here is very, very wrong.
Drip, drip... Drip..
"Huh...? 'course I recognize you, Zashi," Shouta says, trying unsuccessfully to fight past the heaviness in his limbs so he can sit up. "What's this about?" he asks.
No response.
Why won't Hizashi turn around?
Shouta squints through the haze, a headache steadily building behind his eyes.
"H'zashi, c'mere... 'm cold," he mumbles, curling into himself in an effort to retain some body heat. Sleep is starting to pull at him again, making it difficult to focus. He pats the empty space on the bed invitingly.
"I can't stay, love," Hizashi tells him, sounding truly sorry. "You know I can't."
Oh, but Shouta wants him to stay. He wants Hizashi to stay so bad that it burns.
"Don' go," he pleads, not even caring if he sounds weak.
"...Please?"
"Oh, Shou..." he hears Hizashi sigh, voice so full of warmth and fondness that it hurts. "I'm so sorry, my dear. So, so sorry."
Shouta's eyes fall shut against his will, and he's unable to pry them open again no matter how hard he tries to. A gentle hand brushes through his unruly hair, a there-and-gone touch that leaves Shouta wanting more. He can only just barely feel Hizashi's warm breath as he leans in to plant a single, fleeting kiss to his forehead.
"It's time to wake up now," Hizashi whispers.
Drip... Drip...
Shouta jolts awake in a cold sweat, choking on a sharp, panicked inhale.
He coughs for several long moments before he's able to breathe normally again, eyes squeezed shut while he wills his racing heart to slow. Only for him to startle once more when a drop of cold water splashes against his face.
His eyes fly open with a gasp.
...There, above him. Water drips steadily from a broken gutter over his head, the soft sound echoing throughout the alley.
Shouta remembers now, remembers falling asleep behind the dumpster after he was chased by... by Hizashi.
Hizashi, his Hizashi. Alive.
But... it wasn't really his Hizashi, was it? It can't have been.
He doesn't have time for grief. Right now, Shouta needs to pull himself the fuck together and go find his kids. He needs to make sure they're all okay.
Blinking the tears from his eyes, Shouta lets out a shaky breath and drags a hand down his face. He can't have been asleep for more than a few hours, as it often went that he'd be awoken by nightmares. The sun is just barely visible over the tall buildings overhead, a thin ray of sunshine landing right on his dirty face.
He chases after its fleeting warmth, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm himself up. Gods, he's cold.
Fatigue yet clings to his mind like a thick smoke, but Shouta knows the few hours of fitful sleep he's had is the best he's going to get. Enough procrastinating, who knows what kind of trouble his students could have gotten into whilst left unattended?
Too much trouble, if he's being honest with himself.
Despite having done so only a few hours prior, Shouta takes a moment to take stock of himself.
It doesn't seem like he's too badly injured, no more than before at least. He's got a couple new scratches though, and his head is pounding something awful. Shouta tuts at the scrapes on his palms, which luckily aren't bleeding.
His joints are stiff and ache dully, but what else is new?
Shouta uses the wall as leverage to push himself to his feet, hissing through the pain.
Limping out from behind the dumpster, he eyes the—thankfully still empty—alley with suspicion. As far as he can tell, nothing has changed from before he fell asleep.
The distant sounds of traffic catches his attention.
Something's been itching at the back of his mind for a while now. Ever since he saw the intact city walls—saw Hizashi.
A revelation, illogical as it is. And hope.
Time travel.
It's something the Hero Public Safety Commission had kept under tight wraps. Any quirk even distantly related to time travel, really. They'd even wanted to take Eri, though with Nedzu's help Shouta was able to keep her at UA and out of the HPSC's hands.
Quirks like that were dangerous in the wrong hands, hero or villain alike.
But the HPSC doesn't exist anymore. Or rather, it wouldn't exist, if he really is in the past.
It's a possibility.
Regardless of what kind of quirk it was, Shouta needs to find his students sooner rather than later. Then they can regroup, figure out what's happening, and go from there.
Now then, if Shouta was a half-feral teenager dropped into the middle of an unfamiliar city that may or may not be in the past, where would he go?
It's a trick question, of course. The only thing in the equation that's he's personally missing is the 'being a teenager' part. He taught his students everything he knows, so he knows exactly where they'll go.
They've got plans upon plans for any and all possible situations, with survival being the ultimate goal. Whispered and plotted in the dead of night. Paranoid, but alive.
They had a lot of time on their hands, alright?
In the situation where they all became separated from one another, the plan was simple.
Go to the center of the city, find a good vantage point—best being the tallest building—and most importantly, stay hidden. If it was possible, they could create a signal to alert the others once they were safe.
Shouta scales the nearest fire escape, clambering up onto the roof and looking around.
He generally liked to avoid being up high in the daytime—too much chance of being noticed—but all he needs right now is a minute.
He's not sure which prefecture he's in, but from this new vantage point he can make out the silhouettes of skyscrapers in the distance. That'll be the direction he heads toward, then.
Climbing back down the fire escape, Shouta hunches his shoulders and starts walking.
With the look around he'd done, he has a vague idea of the streets and can visualize in his head the direction he wants to go. He tries to stick to the back alleys for his journey, but isn't entirely able to avoid walking the streets.
The streets are busy with people now, the noise level almost seeming like a physical entity with the way it rolls over his body and pounds into his ears.
He's always hated being in crowds.
Thankfully no one bothers him as he shuffles past, though he is shot a few disgusted looks. He can't blame them, not really, considering he's wearing more dirt than clothing. At least his jumpsuit is all black, so they can't see the frankly unnerving amount of blood that's dried into the material.
He keeps walking.
Shouta's not sure exactly what it is that catches his attention, but nevertheless he finds himself drifting towards a shop display full of televisions. All of them were currently displaying the news.
Lingering nearby, he listens with half an ear while his eyes scan the street for any potential threats.
"—two students who were assaulted this morning on their way to school, resulting in a broken arm and nose. The suspect was pursued by the Punching Hero, Death Arms, but they unfortunately evaded capture. Police are requesting the public's help in apprehending this villain—"
Shouta huffs, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
Honestly, what kind of idiot would attack someone in broad daylight?
"—suspect is described as being young, with curly green hair, green eyes, and freckles. Last seen wearing dark, ragged clothing, and—"
Oh no, that's one of his idiots.
He should've known something like this would happen.
It's a sign that at least one of his students made it through safely, though. Unless this past Midoriya simply felt like attacking people today. Unlikely, but still a possibility.
Even though the 'attack' happened a couple hours ago, he can see that it'd been near where he is now. It's unlikely that his Midoriya would've stuck around the scene of a crime—just what the hell did he do?—so he can only hope that his number one Problem Child was still close enough for Shouta to find.
He turns away when the news channel switches to a different story, gaze wandering back to his surroundings.
There's a lot of intact buildings here, much more than he's used to. From here, he can see only a little bit of general damage. Probably from some insignificant villain attack. He can also see that many of the buildings are occupied, lights on in the windows, countless people going about their days like normal.
Shouta doesn't think he remembers how to act 'normal' anymore—did he ever?
It's a disconcerting sight, this normality.
He hates how illogical his mind is being. His heart racing and shoulders tensing every time someone gets too close, every time someone so much as looks at him.
Any of them could be a danger to him, with unknown intentions and quirks.
Which building should he choose—which would his students chose?
Where, if anywhere, is safe?
He doesn't know.
But it's another clue that he's in the past, that something dramatic has changed. He can't even remember the last time he'd seen this many people in one place.
Thankfully, the attack he's expecting—fearing—never comes.
Shouta keeps walking until the buildings tower over the street, soaking up the warmth of the morning sun.
When he's reached the approximate center of the city, he stops and looks around at all the people with a wary gaze. Too many people. Once all of his kids are safe and sound with him again, they'll have to find a better place to hide. Somewhere less populated.
He just has to find them, first.
One building in particular catches his attention. It's considerably older than its neighbors, rough brickwork covered in grime and ivy, windows dark. There's a 'condemned' sign on one window, and through the others Shouta can only see dusty office spaces, not a single light on.
...Ah. There's someone standing by the front doors.
"—make myself clear?" he hears a sickly sweet voice croon, quiet and oh-so familiar. "...Good. Now get out of my sight."
Shouta grins widely.
It's Yaoyorozu, his student, standing at the foot of the building. A small purple blur runs full speed away from her.
Ah, the traitor.
Resisting the urge to chase the boy down like a fox on a hare, Shouta crosses the street to stand at Momo's side, hands stuffed in his pockets.
"Hi, dad." she greets casually, as though she hadn't just instilled the fear of god into the traitor.
He doesn't fight the grin tugging at his lips, eyes squinting with amusement. "Hey, kid. Mind if I ask what you two were talking about?"
"Oh, nothing much." Momo smiles innocently. She's fiddling with the knife in her hands. "We were just... catching up."
Shouta snorts. Yes, he's sure that's all it was.
"And you're not hurt?" he has to ask, and even as he does that he's already looking her over for any sign of injury. Her glassy eyes stare back, examining him just as thoroughly.
"I'm... alright," she admits softly, and she pockets her knife while leaning into his side. "Better now. Are you okay?"
Her gaze catches on the dried blood in his hair.
There's no point in lying to her, observant as she is, so Shouta just shrugs. "I've been better," he says. "Think I hit my head, but I'll live." He eyes the dust clinging to his clothes, then to the glass doors behind them.
Momo looks, too. "I woke up in there, but I didn't see anyone else," she tells him, brushing the dust from her clothes. "Do you think...?"
"It's as good a place as any," Shouta answers without her needing to ask.
Once he's made sure no one is watching them, he pushes past the unlocked doors and into the building, Momo following behind him.
"I'm curious, what do you think of all this?" he asks her, watching her from the corner of his vision as they walk side-by-side up the stairwell. She doesn't speak right away, so Shouta waits patiently while she thinks over her answer. He really is curious to see what his student may have noticed.
"...My first thought was of a teleportation quirk," Momo says after a few minutes of thought. "You and I both woke up in different locations, so it's probable the others did, too..."
She looks to him for approval, and he nods before gesturing with a hand for her to go on.
"Based on the state of out surroundings, and having seen—" She cuts herself off with a shuddering breath sucked in through her teeth. "Having seen... the traitor. Seeing him alive..."
Momo abruptly stops walking, so Shouta stops as well and turns to her with a questioning look. There's an indescribable look in her eyes, much clearer and more focused than he's seen them look in a long, long time. She's one of his brightest students, but hunger and fatigue had dulled her senses.
"Are we in the past, Sensei?" Momo asks him, voice barely above a whisper.
"What do you think?" he asks in turn, just as quiet.
"I think..." She looks away, rubbing at her arm uncertainly. "...that it's a possibility. That we've been sent back in time."
Shouta nods, and starts back up the stairs again. "I do, too."
"Y-you do?" he hears her ask behind him, footsteps echoing to catch up.
"Of course, it's the only logical explanation," he says simply. "I noticed it too—the buildings, the people—and I saw..." He trails off, a pang of grief stabbing right through his heart.
Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he rasps to himself; "...A dead man walking."
Momo catches up to him then, and places a gentle hand on his arm. "Dad...?"
Blinking until his eyes stop stinging quite so much, Shouta pats her hand and takes a slow breath in to regain his composure. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter." His free hand drifts up without thought, grasping at the wedding bands hidden beneath his capture weapon.
"...You saw him, didn't you?"
Her words are like a bucker of ice water running down his back, and Shouta freezes before finally locking eyes with his student.
Momo's dark eyes hold only understanding.
He sighs heavily, dragging a hand down his face. "You've always been too observant..." he complains halfheartedly.
"I'm afraid I had a good teacher, Sensei," Momo retorts with a sad smile.
Yeah, Shouta supposes she did.
The rest of the trip up the building is filled with an easy silence.
It's not the tallest building in the city, but it is visible, and that's all they need. Shouta picks a wide open floor near the top.
Now all they need is a signal.
"Should I... make something?" Momo asks, obviously hesitant to actually do so. Shouta just shakes his head at her, already unraveling his scarf.
"No, it's alright," he says, and ties one end securely to a metal pipe before tossing the other end out of the window so it flutters in the wind. It makes him nervous to let go of the fabric, to feel the breeze against his exposed neck, but it's the best signal they've got.
"Save your energy," Shouta tells her. "We'll look for food soon."
Here's the thing; Shouta knows quirks, and he knows his student. He knows what she's not saying. A quirk that uses the body's own resources to function is useful, but only if it had a steady source of fuel to pull from.
She's starving—they all are, but he knows that Yaoyorozu's situation in particular is different. He won't ask her to use her quirk, not for this.
Her quirk has already mutated once due to starvation. Even if she tried to hide it, Shouta knew.
He only wishes he could have done more for her.
Sinking to the floor near the window with a sigh, Shouta watches his capture weapon dance in the wind. It's near the corner of the building, so hopefully at least one of his students will be in that direction and see it.
"And now we wait," he mutters to himself.