Lost

Chapter 11

Aizawa hesitated at the door hand ready to knock but wondering if he should. Hizashi had told him what the boy had done to his room and him. He swallowed and opened the door, there curled up in a ball, fast asleep eyes puffy and red from crying was the small curly green haired boy. He laid in the eye of the storm that he created, centered in the chaos. The young boy stirred shortly after the door opened he sat up and opened his eyes wince at the sight of the pro hero.

They made eye contact, but the boy looked away a got up gathering the torn pages. He was muttering the whole time while doing it, and the words that were spoke concerned Eraserhead. Variations of "better off dead," "I don't deserve any of this," "I'm just a disgusting villain," and "I'm sorry, all I can do it betray people," made him want to hug the boy, but he knew he shouldn't, at least not now, anyway. Aizawa opened his mouth to say something but closed it shortly after shaking his head, he didn't have the right words, and sometimes there were no right words. Instead, he closed the door and began to help the boy clean is destroyed room. Aizawa would have to talk to him later.

Soon the room was as clean as it was to start with, the only evidence of the chaos was a pile of ripped up pages on Izuku's desk. The boy was currently attempting to put them in their proper order and sandwiching them between the covers. The pro hero had noticed on the shelf was the last notebook; he picked it up and saw that it only had his papers in it. Unlike all the other papers, only one page was torn out; the rest rested peacefully unharmed. The hero wasn't exactly sure how to feel about that.

"Aiza-Aizawa?" The boy said voice meek as he turned to look at him in the eyes. Aizawa saw the look in the boy's eyes. They were so hopeless and sad; they were so lost and scared. So alone. But he could not look away; he would not look away from these eyes. They reminded him too much of someone long gone. They were so similar, but he would save Izuku. He promised himself that.

"Yes, Izuku?"

" Y o u c a n n e v e r t r u s t m e . "

The boy stated coldly and went back apathetically to work organizing and his shredded notes. Aizawa sat the notebook back on the bookshelf and stood there, uselessly. He was so useless in this situation. There was nothing he could do, just like back then, and it made him angry, no, this emotion was a bitter sadness, from an old wound, and this wasn't something he was new too.

"Why...why do you think that..?" Aizawa's voice came out too softly. The boy froze and sat down the notes. His tiny fists clenched, and there was a warm trickle of blood that went down his hands and arms, dribbling onto the torn, and now stained papers. There soon was tears flowing quietly from his face, and they too fell and stained the damaged notes training them with unforgiving sadness. The pro hero wanting a response cried voice wavering but no tears forming, "Why?"

The boy relaxed his hands and turned to look up at Aizawa with his glassy green eyes, "As I said I am—I'm a villain," The boy then looked away shying from eye contract with guilt before continuing. "I tore up my room because I'm disgusted with my pathetic self. I was supposed to leave this room with you today right? I was originally planning on taking your quirk and leaving, maybe I still will. Someday."

Aizawa stiffened then he saw the boy flinch and resumed a normal standing position. The way the boy calmly said what he was planning to do perturbed him. It lacked the intense emotions he had known Izuku for; it seemed like he was distant, unassociated with reality; it was like this was just a bad dream for him. Eraserhead had one thing he wanted to the boy to know, and so Aizawa spoke with honesty, "Izuku, I love you."

The boy tensed, and then looked at Aizawa, fear in his eyes. Aizawa tried his best to smile gentle, but the boy looked away to his notes frowning at his blood. He muttered just loud enough for the pro hero to hear, "How long will that last..."