EraserMic Fluff

PT 24

It was a few weeks later; long after they both returned to work, finally healed. The events of the training camp were still fresh in Shōta's mind as he stepped out of the conference room, fiddling with his slicked-back hair uncomfortably. He sighed. The press was filled with vultures, ever ready to swoop in when everything goes wrong.
     Hizashi appeared out of nowhere and wrapped him in a hug.
     "Oh my god, babe, you did so well!" He grinned. His smile faded as his tone changed, "I hate the press sometimes. How dare they! You did nothing wrong,  and neither did the school!" He huffed loudly, covering up real anger with comical grumpiness. Shōta sighed softly.
     "Yeah..."
     "You okay? You seem quieter than normal." Shōta was as talkative as ever; years of experience gave Hizashi the gift to sniff out these little nuances.
     "I just...wish I could do more," Shōta whispered. Hizashi stared at him.
      "...I know what you mean," he said after a pause, "but we can't think about that right now...we have to be strong. For the kids."
       "Right..." Shōta sighed. Hizashi glanced at him, slightly concerned. He attempted to change the mood.
      "Man, I miss your stubble so much~" Hizashi whined.
       "It'll grow back," Shōta grumbled, though he was blushing slightly. When Hizashi pointed out the little things he liked about him, it was...enjoyable. He felt slightly better about himself after this.

                                • • •

        The news played on the television—no, every television. The world was stunned. Shōta and Hizashi watched, still surprised despite knowing Toshinori's secret. Well, it wasn't a secret now.
        This meant a lot of things; too many things to take at once. The average citizen would have to sit down, but a Pro would have to deal with so much more. Especially ones that were close to Toshinori.
        Hizashi sat with his head in his hands. All Might was the Symbol of Peace, but he was also a ray of sunlight for Hizashi. He was someone to respect, to admire, in a world of villains and corruption. All Might was gone now. The Symbol of Peace was gone now. Sure, Toshinori was still okay—thank god for that—but everyone knew the world would be different now.
       Hizashi was catatonic on the couch. Shōta had enough will to force himself into his room, but that didn't mean he was taking it well.
       These were his thoughts, in order: Fuck. What are we going to do? The Villains will surely...the Heroes will...fuck. The kids. Fuck. Fuck. What are we going to do? No more All Might, no more Symbol of Peace, no more #1 Hero—wait. Fuck. That means that shit head is #1 now. Even harder to fight, in court or the streets. But what are we going to do? All Might stood for something, and without him...fuck. He stewed, curled up in bed. His thoughts darted around, back and forth, switching between topics. He choked on anxiety. Maki scurried over, sensing his distress, and curled up in his lap. He pet her absentmindedly, but his mind still raced.
     Hizashi stumbled into the room and collapsed on the bed. He gripped the sheets, leaving tear stains in the fabric.
     They gave themselves two hours. Two hours of anxiety and grief and fear and anger. After that, they pulled themselves together, both emotionally and physically, and held onto each other tightly.
      "Just a few more minutes, then we'll only focus on the positive," Hizashi coughed out.
       "Mmhmm," Shōta murmured. It was a coping mechanism they developed: spend a certain amount of time giving into the pain and the dark and the horrible thoughts so as to calm them down for the rest of the day, where they focused on the good. It's effectiveness varied, but in general it was a good way to purge the pain.
       They spent these last few moments, grasping onto each other as if they could be torn away at any moment, thinking about each other. The thought of Villains ripping them away, the thought of getting stuck in a depression, the thought of distancing themselves from each other...it was painful, but their grips reminded themselves that they are here, together, in this moment. They would kill to stay together always, but they knew it was impossible. These little moments were meant to make up for any second of loneliness. This, of course, was nothing compared to being together.
      Hizashi wiped away tears, silently informing Shōta the time was up. They straightened up, cleared their throats, then cleared their minds.
     "At least the kids are all okay," Hizashi said. "And so is Toshinori-sama."
     "Right. The kids."
     "And those Villains were taken care of."
      "Yeah."
       "And..." Hizashi's face scrunched up, trying to find some other light in the dark.
       "...and we're still here. Together," Shōta whispered. Hizashi glanced at him. Tears welled up.
      "Of course," he said, tears wobbling his voice. "That's the most important." He pulled Shōta into a tight hug. Shōta gripped Hizashi's shirt. His throat stung from tears that wouldn't come.
       "Y-yes, it is," he cried out quietly before burying his head in Hizashi's shoulder. They sat together, Maki in between them, for a very long time.