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silvfyre-writings · 1 year

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Shadows Burnt Away (MHA Fanfic)

I wrote this after the divorce episode happened haha. Cause ya know, what if Geten hadn't attacked when he did? :3

Enjoy!

“How are my students, Hizashi?” Aizawa asked, struggling to keep his one good eye open as he leaned against the pillows he’d been placed against. He’d only just woken up; groggy and in pain, yet the only thing on his mind was his students and whether they’d all made it out of the fight in one piece. He knew that he should be more concerned for his own injuries, considering that he’d sliced off his own leg in an attempt to stop his quirk from being stolen. But no, all his thoughts were directed towards that of his precious students; kids so young that they never should’ve been involved in the first place. If they’d been hurt in the fight, Aizawa would never forgive himself.

Hizashi hesitated, and that was enough to get the alarm bells going, his heart pounding within his chest. The monitor he was hooked up to started to beep as his heartrate increased, yet neither the doctor or his friend made a move to try and calm him down. Aizawa felt an emotion he hadn’t felt in a while; fear. Fear for what his best friend was going to say to him, because if there was one thing Hizashi was, it was truthful. “Hizashi? Are my students, okay?”

“Shouta…” Hizashi’s voice trailed off, his friend struggling to find the words, which did nothing to ease Aizawa’s worries. “There were a lot of injuries, both hero and student… it’s been hard to keep track—”

“Don’t sugar coat it, Hizashi. Just tell me what I want to hear.”

“I—I know Shouta, I want to, and I will, just—please.” Hizashi’s voice cracked at the end, his quirk leaking out, making Aizawa and the doctor flinch. Aizawa looked over at his friend, seeing the heartbroken look on his face, and the unshed tears in his eyes. His heart skipped a beat in that moment, and his skin went cold. The last time that Hizashi had had such a look on his face, had been when Oboro had died back when they were students.

Aizawa’s eye widened, the long forgotten burning sensation of tears threatening to break him. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, desperately trying to find what it was that he wanted to say. It didn’t take him long to find the words, but it took him several minutes to actually say them. Saying them meant that it was real. Meant that the answer he received might not be the one he wanted to hear.

He made eye contact with Hizashi, and that was all it took for his friend to break into sobs.

“Who died, Hizashi?” There; the words were out. They were bitter and tasteless, and not words he had ever hoped to say in regards to his kids.

“There was nothing we—”

“Who died, Hizashi?”

Hizashi sobbed again. “Tokoyami.”

Aizawa screamed.

In that moment, Aizawa didn’t know what was worse; knowing that one of his precious students had perished in the war, or knowing that Tokoyami had died saving Hawks. Aizawa hadn’t even known the Number Two hero had been at the villa, and he didn’t know how Tokoyami had known either, considering the boy should’ve retreated the moment his job was done. He did though. Aizawa reminded himself; Hizashi having tentatively explained what had happened. Tokoyami had retreated after stopping Re-Destro, but had apparently spotted the blue flames of Dabi, and had somehow come to the conclusion that Hawks was with the villain. If Tokoyami had been here in the hospital, Aizawa would’ve gone and praised him on his awareness.

But he wasn’t.

Tokoyami was dead.

The heroes had won the war, but Aizawa had lost a student.

He lay there, in his bed, listening to Hizashi as his friend continued to explain how the fight had gone after Aizawa had been taken out by Shigaraki; how most—if not all—of his students had been injured in the fight, and how nearly every hero involved had been injured as well—many of them even dying. And Aizawa knew he should care, he should. He had nineteen other students to worry about the welfare of, yet all he could dwell on was Tokoyami and how he’d never get to see or speak to his student again. It hurt, the pain somehow worse than that of losing limbs, of losing his best friend. It probably had to do with the idea that Tokoyami was his student, and therefore it had been Aizawa’s responsibility to take care of the kid while he was at school.

And he’d failed.

“Hizashi.” Aizawa interrupted his friend, turning his head to look at the other man. He hadn’t even realized he’d turned away. “How did Tokoyami die?”

His friend hesitated, clearly unwilling to dwell on the topic of a dead student. That wasn’t to say that Hizashi wasn’t affected by the death of a student, because he was. It was just how his friend tried to cope with grief. Hizashi had always believed in trying to move on for the deceased person’s sake, whereas Aizawa was one to dwell and linger on such a thing for months. Oboro’s death had taught them that. Eventually though, Hizashi opened his mouth. “Dabi got to him… I’m… not sure of what happened exactly—no one is. But when we found him and Hawks, we could barely recognize him.”

Aizawa shut his eye tight, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape. Who knew that all it would take to fix his broken eyes, was another death? He felt a single tear track down his cheek. The idea of Tokoyami being burnt so bad that he couldn’t be immediately identified was absolutely gut-wrenching. If it weren’t for the fact that Dabi had also perished in the fight—the villain having burnt his own body into ashes trying to kill Endeavour—Aizawa would be hunting down the villain and killing him himself. But Dabi was dead, and so was Tokoyami. There was no one alive to blame for it.

“Where is he?” Aizawa asked.

“Hawks? He’s in the hos—” Hizashi frowned, looking a little confused at Aizawa’s question.

“No, Tokoyami, where—wait, Hawks is here?”

“Yes…” Hizashi carefully responded, moving the chair closer to Aizawa’s bed. “He’s in intensive care right now.”

“Hawks is alive?” Aizawa’s singular eye was wide, his heart beginning to pound again. This entire time he’d been under the impression that both Tokoyami and Hawks had died. How was it, that Hawks could survive Dabi’s flames whereas Tokoyami could not? As a hero, Hawks should’ve been protecting Tokoyami; especially since the hero had taken the boy under his wing for the work study. Why did Tokoyami die? And why do you get to live? It was a cruel thought to have, one unbefitting of a hero, but in that moment, Aizawa didn’t give a shit. He wanted answers.

Hizashi gave a slow nod. “Would you like me to take you to his room? They aren’t allowing visitors right now, but I’m sure they’d understand the situation.”

Did he want to visit Hawks? Aizawa mulled over the idea carefully. If Hawks was in intensive care, then he probably wasn’t conscious, and probably wouldn’t be for some time. And considering how Aizawa was currently feeling about everything, it probably wasn’t a good idea to do so. He was upset, he was angry, but most of all, he wanted someone to blame, and if we went to Hawks’ bedside right now, then he’d probably start to pin the blame on the hero when he didn’t even know the whole story yet. No, it would be better to wait.

“Not yet.”

“Okay. Is there anyone else you’d like to see?”

“No. I’ll see them later. Please, leave me be.” Aizawa sighed, turning his head away. He heard Hizashi sigh, and a warm hand briefly touch his shoulder, before the chair scraped against the ground, and footsteps made their way to the door of his room, slowly echoing down the hallway. Aizawa turned his head to stare at the ceiling, left alone to the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling.

Aizawa wasn’t sure what prompted him to make the trek all the way across the hospital to the room that Hawks was staying in. Maybe it was the knowledge that Hawks had been moved out of intensive care that day, having grown strong enough he no longer needed to be watched. Maybe it was curiosity on Aizawa’s part; knowing that Tokoyami had been nearly unrecognizable leaving him wondering what the hero looked like. Or maybe it was nothing at all. Either way, it wasn’t Aizawa’s smartest decision. He’d forgone the wheelchair that Hizashi had carted him around in all day after he’d asked his friend to take him to his students, instead choosing to use the crutches he was very much not ready for. By the time he’d reached his destination, his entire body was hurting, and he was exhausted right down to the very bottom of his being.

But he’d made it.

He’d made it, and now that he had, he couldn’t bring himself to actually enter the room, simply standing outside. A mixture of emotions ran through his body that he didn’t care to identify, but the one that chose to linger was fear. Aizawa narrowed his eye; how could he be afraid of a entering a room? It was a stupid thing to be afraid of, although, it wasn’t really the room he was afraid of; it was the occupant within it. Aizawa let out a defeated sigh, letting his head drop against the door and rest there. He just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to enter the room.

He just wasn’t ready.

And he didn’t think he’d ever be.

For several days, Aizawa snuck out of his room and trekked across the hospital. And for several days, he couldn’t bring himself to enter Hawks’ room, and trekked back to his own. He was pretty sure that Hizashi and the doctors were aware of his escapades, but none of them said anything, just letting him do as he pleased. Sometimes, Aizawa would check in on his remaining students while they were resting, making sure that none of them had succumbed to their wounds. They never saw Aizawa, and that was okay; it probably wouldn’t be good for moral if they saw him in his current state. He wondered briefly if they knew about Tokoyami, or if that information had been withheld from them until they had healed more. He hoped that they didn’t know, because he’d prefer to be with them when they found out so that he could pick up the pieces when they broke.

Finally, after nearly two weeks of trekking and avoiding, Aizawa finally found the courage he needed. It was the middle of the night, the hospital at its most silent, hallways free of staff, and the only sound was that of the machines being used to keep people alive. He was standing outside Hawks’ room, hand on the door, his knuckles white as they clutched at the handle. I can do it. It’s just a door. The hardest part is opening it, so just. Open. It. Aizawa shut his eye, only sliding the door open once he couldn’t see it. He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and stepped into the room.

It was done.

Aizawa opened his eye, his gaze immediately being drawn to the small figure on the much too large bed. The next thing he noticed was the lack of those bright red wings that everyone associated with Hawks, and the sheer number of bandages that the hero was wrapped in. Aizawa edged closer, slowly, taking care to avoid all the wires and machinery that were connected to Hawks. It was weird, seeing the Number Two hero so still when he was usually flying around at high speeds. It didn’t feel real.

He didn’t want it to be real.

The crutches clattered to the floor, and Aizawa hobbled the short distance to Hawks’ bed, powering through the pain until he could lean against it, keeping the weight off his injured leg. And despite the extra weight on the bed, Hawks didn’t move. The hero just lay there, breathing deeply as if he was simply sleeping, even though that wasn’t the case. Aizawa’s gaze focused on the rise and fall of Hawks’ chest, and all the emotions he’d been repressing, burst from him. Tears welled in Aizawa’s one eye, and he slammed a fist against the bed.

“Why is it that you get to live, but my student doesn’t? Why?” Aizawa said, voice tight with anger he tried to hold back. “Tokoyami was just a child! He had a future! He has friends and family waiting for him that don’t even know he’s dead! You should’ve been there to protect him! So why didn’t you?”

There was no answer, not that Aizawa had truly been expecting one. Nor did he really want one.

But as he lifted his head, he found a golden eye staring at him, the other hidden by bandages.

Aizawa froze, unwilling to break eye contact. Instead, he looked deep into those eyes, hoping to find the answers he was after. Yet all that he could see was the hazy fog of pain that came with the kind of injuries that Hawks had. He couldn’t tell if Hawks was even aware that he was there or not—probably not if the vacant stare was anything to go by. Aizawa finally pulled his gaze away, grabbed his crutches where they’d fallen on the floor, and left the room.

He didn’t look back.

“Oh, there you are.” Aizawa jerked backwards, just narrowly avoiding Hizashi as his friend rounded the corner. “I was worried when I couldn’t find you in your room. Where’d you go?”

“For a walk.”

He saw Hizashi glance towards the room Aizawa had just come out of. “How was Hawks.”

“Don’t know.” Aizawa hobbled down the hallway as fast as he could, hoping to avoid the oncoming conversation.

“You were just with him though.”

“Doesn’t mean I know anything.”

“Shouta—”

“Just drop it, Hizashi!” Aizawa snapped, stopping to glare at his friend. “I don’t know how Hawks is, nor do I care. My student is dead, and his mentor is alive. And all I can think about is how unfair this whole thing is! Okay?”

Hizashi stared at him, a sad look on his face. His friend looked like he wanted to say something, but simply nodded. “Okay. Let’s just get you back to your room so you can rest. I won’t bring it up anymore.”

“Thank you.” A brief pause. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Aizawa didn’t leave his room for three more days after visiting Hawks; refusing all visitors but Hizashi. He’d tried to deny his friend, but if there was one thing that Hizashi was, it was loyal and stubborn. No matter how hard he tried, the man just refused to leave; even the threat of calling the hospital security wasn’t enough to sway him into leaving. So, Aizawa let him be. The silence between them was appreciated in the end, and comfortable. It was the kind of silence that was born after a decade of friendship, one where words didn’t need to be spoken.

“Shouta!” Aizawa’s eyes flew open as Hizashi planted himself on the edge of his bed. He let out a groan at the rude awakening, but didn’t get time to question his friend before Hizashi barrelled on. “I’m staging an intervention! Get up!”

“An intervention for what exa—Hizashi!” Aizawa jerked as he was lifted from the bed effortlessly and deposited into a wheelchair. He tried to fight against his friend, but there was no winning against Hizashi once his mind was set on something, so he just resigned himself to his fate and let his friend push him to who knows where.

So when he realized just where it was that he was being taken, Aizawa slammed his one good foot into the ground to stop himself. “No.”

“Yes. You need this, Shouta. You can deny it all you want, but you need to talk to him.” Hizashi’s voice was patient, and Aizawa could feel his friend’s hands pressing gently on his shoulders. “I was told he woke up properly two days ago, and as far as I’m aware, he hasn’t been told anything.”

“And what? You want me to tell him?”

“Just talk to him, Shouta. Just talk to him.”

Aizawa sighed and lifted his foot, allowing Hizashi to continue pushing him. The rest of the trip was made in silence, which Aizawa was more than glad for. He watched as the door to Hawks’ room grew closer, the pounding in his heart growing at what waited beyond the door. He wanted nothing more than to slam the brakes and run away, run back to his room and hide away from the world, but Hizashi was right; he did need to talk to Hawks, even though he didn’t want to. It would just be so easy to do just that, which was how he knew that pushing through the fear and talking was the right thing to do.

“I’ve got it from here, Hizashi.” Aizawa grabbed the wheels of the chair and propelled himself forward, away from his friend.

“You sure?”

“No. Now, open that door before I change my mind.”

Hizashi nodded, quickly dashing forward to hold the door open. Aizawa held his breath as he crossed into the room, the sound of the door closing behind him grating on his ears. He stared at the singular bed in the room, his eye focusing on the tiny figure within it. Hawks hadn’t changed much since Aizawa had last seen him; still covered in bandages and steadily breathing.

And just like before, Hawks was awake and staring at him, looking more coherent than the last time their eyes met.

And just like before, Aizawa couldn’t tear his eye away.

The silence went on for several minutes before Hawks slowly tilted his head away, breaking eye contact.

“Something’s… happened?” Hawks voice was like sandpaper; a result from the flames that had nearly killed him. The hero sounded worried and confused, and he looked terrified, reminding Aizawa of Hizashi’s previous words that Hawks hadn’t been told a single thing about what had happened outside of his room. It also reminded him that Hawks was still so incredibly young and frightened to be going through such trauma, and unlike Aizawa; Hawks had no one to sit by his bedside and comfort him.

“Yes.” Aizawa wheeled himself closer. “Something’s happened.”

“You’re mad… at me?”

“I was.” Aizawa admitted. “But not anymore.”

Hawks turned his head to look back at Aizawa, unshed tears welling in his one visible eye. “Why?”

Aizawa took a sharp breath, all possible explanations leaving him in that moment. In that moment, he didn’t know how to explain to Hawks that his intern had died saving him. He didn’t know how to explain that Hawks had lived and Tokoyami had died. How could he? He wasn’t sure he even wanted to, not when Hawks was as vulnerable as he was. But if he didn’t, then Hawks would be told by someone else, someone with much less sympathy, someone who didn’t care about the relationship that Hawks and Tokoyami had built up over their time working together. Aizawa had always wondered if it was a bird thing that had drawn the two together, because where Tokoyami had been dark and quiet, Hawks had been sunshine and loud; they were opposites. Opposites that somehow worked well with each other.

But not anymore.

“Please tell me.” Hawks whispered, a single tear slipping down his cheek. Aizawa couldn’t even imagine the pain that Hawks was currently in, yet the hero continued to push himself to talk, his voice hoarse and full of cracking, but still strong. “No one has said anything, but something has happened. And—And—I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared.” Aizawa said. He heaved himself out of the wheelchair and carefully situated himself on the edge of Hawks’ bed. “It’s just… what I have to say is hard. I don’t have the words you need.”

“Just tell me. Please.”

Aizawa took in a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Well, we won. The League of Villains has been apprehended, as had everyone working with them. Some villains escaped, but they are being tracked down. Many heroes were injured in the fight, many were killed, and—” Aizawa faltered, his heart clenching as the next words got caught in his throat. He coughed to clear it, and lifted his head to meet Hawks’ gaze. “—and one of my students died.”

Hawks froze, his eye widening and his chest beginning to rise and fall much faster than it had been before. Panic hadn’t yet set in, but it was well on its way to doing so. “Who died?”

“Hawks, you need—” Aizawa tried to soothe, but Hawks just ignored him.

“Eraser, who died? Please, tell me who died. I need to know. Please, please, please, just tell me.” The tears were falling faster now, broken up with the occasional sob. Hawks clearly knew who had died, but wanted Aizawa to confirm it, in the slight chance he was wrong.

Aizawa shut his own eye to prevent his own tears from falling. “Tokoyami died.”

“No, no, no, no.” Hawks sobbed, repeating the word over and over, shaking his head. Hawks’ hands fisted the sheets, and he pushed himself into his pillows like he didn’t know what to do with himself. Aizawa had never seen these emotions on Hawks’ face before, but then again, he’d never imagined that Tokoyami would’ve been the one to put them there in the first place. The anger towards Hawks that Aizawa had been holding onto for so long, vanished. He couldn’t even believe he’d ever been mad at his fellow hero in the first place, not when the knowledge of Tokoyami’s death had reduced the hero to a sobbing mess.

Aizawa carefully leaned over, and pulled Hawks into his arms, taking care to be mindful of Hawks’ injuries. The hands that had been twisted in the sheets came up to clutch at the back of his shirt, and Hawks pressed his face into Aizawa’s neck. Aizawa could feel the tears sliding down his neck, and he tightened his grip a little, offering as much comfort as he could give. “What happened, Hawks?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” Hawks cried. “All I remember is blue and pain. Dabi was burning me, trying to kill me, and then Tokoyami was there. I—I—He grabbed me and I wasn’t burning anymore, but the flames were still there. Dabi was talking—I remember that. Tokoyami—Tokoyami—he, he asked me for orders. I told him when to go, and we were fleeing. We were safe. But then—Dabi was there! He was there and the flames were rushing towards us—" Hawks broke off, gulping greedily for air as he tried to gain control of his emotions. It didn’t help much, but it was enough. “—I was falling, and I could hear screaming. I could—I could smell something burning. I don’t know, I don’t remember—I hit the ground, and something hit the ground beside me. I don’t remember anything else, I’m sorry!”

Aizawa couldn’t control the tears that ran down his cheek as Hawks finished telling him his version of events, as broken and disjointed as they were; it was obvious to him now what had happened back in the villa. Hawks had been severely injured by the time Tokoyami had arrived at the scene; hadn’t been in a position to protect himself, let alone his intern. He and Tokoyami had done everything right to try and escape from the fight, to try and get away from the one villain that had an advantage against both of them. They had done everything right.

Dabi had just been faster.

It wasn’t fair, but when was the world ever fair?

It was how battles worked; the strongest came out on top, even if the strongest was a villain. And it hurt. It hurt a lot to know that a villain had won that particular fight. Sure, the heroes had won the war in the end, but there were individual battles where the villains had won. And Tokoyami’s fight had been one of them.

“I know it hurts.” Aizawa said, gently rocking Hawks as he continued to cry. He didn’t know if he was hurting the hero or helping, but Hawks wasn’t showing any indication of wanting to let go, so Aizawa continued to hold him. “I know you probably feel like the worst person in the world, knowing that Tokoyami died while you got to live, and nothing I say is going to make you feel better. I know. But—”

“But it is my fault.” Hawks sniffed, the cries tapering off. “I should’ve—”

“Stop that.” Aizawa pulled Hawks away from him, staring into that golden eye that was usually so full of joy, but now only filled with pain. He lifted a hand to brush away the tears. “If we get started on the ‘should’ve’ and ‘what ifs’ we’ll never get through this.” He let out a sigh. “Tokoyami died to save you. That is the truth and nothing we do can change it. Trying to do so would just dishonour his memory. Dishonour who he was.”

“But… he should be here.” Hawks croaked.

“I know. He should. But he isn’t, and you know what that means?”

Hawks shook his head.

“It means we need to live for him. We need to live so that he can rest easy, so that his actions weren’t a mistake. Understand?”

“I—I can’t.”

“You can, Hawks. You can.” Aizawa said, embracing Hawks once again. “No matter how long it takes, you can do it.”

Hawks’ fists tightened against Aizawa’s back, and the hero nodded, the tears resuming. Aizawa dropped his own head to Hawks’ shoulder, and together, they held each other and cried. They cried over what they had lost—who they had lost, and they cried over the future they’d have to live in without that person. Tokoyami had been important to both of them, but now he was dead, and they couldn’t change that.

But they could keep on living.

They’d do it for him.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #aizawa shouta #bnha hawks #tokoyami fumigake #keigo takami #hurt/comfort #angst #character death #fanfic #bnha fanfic #writing

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