Heroism

Dangerous Ice Cream Break

It was the week of the internships.

The students of the hero course were sent off to be someone else's problem while work remained to be the doll's problem. 

Ever since she had Tsubaki bathed, fed and settled before the telly, (Y/N) committed to work with a cup of coffee. The sort of work that promised no end, not even on this break. 

To think the doll had willingly offered to take some work off Aizawa's plate must be comical, at this moment.   

Hours have passed when the exhausted adult lowered the lid of her device and massaged her spent brains through the temples. Her eyes drifted of their own accord for a quick check on the pink-haired child. 

The sight clenched (Y/N) heart with guilt.

Tsubaki was sprawled lazily on the sofa, eyes glued to cartoons without a single ounce of her usual sparkle. Probably bored out of her mind and no type of goofy animation could brighten her spirit; not when she had gone through numerous episodes in one setting. 

"Tsu!" (Y/N) called the mini corpse. When she didn't respond, the doll went to stand before her, spelling out her name, "Tsu.ba.ki!"

As if woken from a daydream, the child stirred upwards and answered, "yes?"

"Go wear your shoes!"

"My shoes?!"

"Yes, shoooes," the doll emphasised.

Struck by energy, Tsubaki practically flew off the sofa to get her shoes, but stopped and ran back to ask with an expectant expression, "we go bye?" 

(Y/N) couldn't help the soft laugh spilling out of her, "yes, we go bye."  

(◕‿◕✿) Commercial break brought to you by: mint chocolate chip ice cream (◕‿◕✿)

"Is it good?" (Y/N) asked the child as she wiped those tiny, messy lips with a napkin.

"Mhm," Tsubaki nodded, holding the cone tighter with those chubby fingers.

"My heart," (Y/N) groaned to herself, clutching her shirt and crouching down to the child's level. "Ah... where do you want to go next?"

"Ummm..." Tsubaki hummed, too occupied with the ice cream to think. Her eyes darted left and right on the busy street, probably wishing to just point at whatever and be freed of choosing.

Before the doll could call her out for taking the easy way, she caught a glimpse of black on black in Tsubaki's background. (Y/N)'s eyes swept the crowd again, thinking it must've been Aizawa, but the figure disappeared.

Dismissing the man as a festering obsession of her imagination, (Y/N) shook her head and looked back at her child. Except Tsubaki was looking at something else.

"(N/N), he scawy..."

"Who?" (Y/N) murmured, looking at the direction of the child's attention, but found no one. Panic doomed in at the threat of a villain; even when she convinced herself it was a full street and there has to be a hero on patrol.

"(N/N)!"

"What?!"

"(N/N)! (N/N)! (N/N)! (N/N)!"

"Tsubaki?! What is it?!" the doll's panic shot to the roof at the unusual tantrum happening before her.

The child repeatedly yelled her guardian's name like a siren and all (Y/N) could do was hold the distraught thing to her chest. Only when she did so, did a pale hand shot right to the doll's widened eyes. Its sharp nail scratched her cheek before diving in to grip her shoulder.

"Got you," the man's foreboding words spilled down on the doll's frozen being. Her instinct screeched to bolt as far as humanly possible with Tsubaki. Far enough for an escape, for a hero or into hiding. 

However when she transitioned her fears into will, the villain's grip tightened. Nails digging deeper into her shoulder. 

Time slowed as his right hand launched towards (Y/N)'s head. Whatever his quirk was, it must be activated by touch.

(Y/N) had to remain calm, summon an ounce of her experience as a hero for this moment.

If she couldn't use her quirk and couldn't risk skin contact, only one logical solution remained: wait for the right second his hand closes in and turn her head away for a run.

Squirming now will only make his hold grow tighter.

Thus, the ex-hero steeled her nerves and waited with bated breath. Her focused vision on the villain, however, was suddenly taken by black. The doll's grip on Tsubaki tightened, her ears blocked sound and her shaking eyes drifted from black hair to an unkempt stubble. 

Before (Y/N) could soak in more details, the ghost of flashing red eyes swept back only to have their head pressed down along with the doll's head. Her neck almost cracked with the force, more so with the addition of trampled bodies weighing on top of her.  

Footsteps slammed against concrete, the raised voices of civilians and the harsh sound of a fight eventually came through. Their volume raised bit by bit until a feminine voice shrilled in.

"Caught him!" Was what the woman yelled, "I got him! Go check on the injured!"

"On it!" A man responded, his footsteps rushed to the doll and the child clinched to her chest, "Ma'am, are you okay?"

"Tsubaki..." Aizawa mumbled, crawling on the floor with a pounding headache, "Tsubaki!" he yelled, this time, standing up. Disoriented and unbalanced, the ground rushed before his stinging eyes to reach the child, raising her up.

"Ai-Aizawa-sensei?" Tsubaki sobbed, cheeks wet with tears. Those glistening eyes drifted back to the groaning doll, launching herself into her bosom and crying, "(N/N)!"

"Tsu..." Eraser uttered at the scene before him.

Tsubaki was hugging a body and this body looked up to him with widened eyes.

Is this death? If not, was he cloned?

Then what or who was he now? 

Aizawa swallowed thickly as he turned to the nearest reflecting surface. His eyes stung and he had to blink a couple times to moisten them. 

Then he looked.

Staring wide-eyed back at him were black eyes, a black mane, a black attire. 

Eyes shut tightly for a second longer, he opened them slowly and took in the same reflected image. A calloused finger lifted to the scar below his right eye, tapping it and instantly drawing his hand away with a gasp. Then, he touched it again, tracing it gingerly.  

This was real.

Aizawa looked at his hands, palms. Palms that shot to his chest, flat and muscled. To double check on the horrendous fact circulating his head, he, once again, stared at the reflective glass.   

The fact being: this was Aizawa Shouta's body.

More accurately: this was (L/N) (Y/N) in Aizawa Shouta's body.

Steadily with hands hovering in surrender, (L/N) (Y/N) rotated to her body, some distance away. On the ground with a child clinging to her.

A frown morphed on her features as (Y/N) croaked out, "Aizawa..." the deep vocals of her voice finally registered to her ears.

Aizawa clumsily rose to his feet, holding Tsubaki securely in his arms and approached his body.