lost | 01

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trauma - chapter one

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It's been a few days since [y/n] was transported to this unknown world.

A few days of night terrors and agony eating away at him.

A few days since he last seen anyone he recognized.

The pain in his chest never seemed to ease, only gradually worsen as time went on.

He slept on rooftops, in trees, in dark alleyways, and in doing so collected information about his new setting.

[y/n] was in a world that was much more peaceful than his. A place where instead of shinobis existed heroes, where chakra was non-existent and quirks basically determined how you lived.

On top of all that, he was no longer the twenty-eight year old male anymore, instead he took on the form of his fifteen year old self.

The scars and experience he received were all still there, and luckily the male was taller than the majority.

Though, his clothes were out of date with the people in this universe, and all the dried blood on him didn't exactly help.

However, the [h/c] haired male couldn't be bothered, not while the memories of his fallen friends plagued him at night.

Why did they choose him? Why?

That was all [y/n] wanted to know. He couldn't do this again. He didn't want to live without the comfort of his friends, his family.

And so, dawn turned to dusk and [y/n] found himself sitting on top of a rooftop, his body and mind on high alert as he unconsciously searched his surrounding area.

It was a habit you had to pick up during the war. It meant life or death.

[y/n] wouldn't mind if someone came and killed him, but somehow he found it hard to believe that anybody but a pro hero could even land a scratch on him.

That's why he barely even responded to the nearing footsteps that approached him without a hint of malice.

"What are you doing here, kid?"

[y/n] looked up at the male with deep eyebags and dried eyes. The guarded eyes of [y/n] coming as a shock to the prohero.

He had never met anyone with eyes like that, eyes that look like they've been through hell and back. Not even the countless pro heroes he encountered lit a candle to the hidden terror that ran through those [e/c] eyes.

"No reason."

[y/n]'s soft voice came out as a whisper, making the shinobi realize how long he went without using it.

"It's late at night, it's dangerous for a kid like you. Go home."

His words were simple, a warning for the dangers that lurked in the shadows. Yet, those two words caused undeniable grief to [y/n].

"I... I don't know where home is." His words were the truth, he knew of his home, but how does he go back? Would there even be a point to go back?

[y/n]'s words made the hero furrow his eyebrows.

"Are you lost?"

The ex-teacher smiled softly, his words coming out bitter and painfully.

"I think so."

˚

Aizawa entered the UA staff room with a troubled aura surrounding him. He thought about the kid that he met a couple days ago, something about him rubbing the hero the wrong way.

"Huh? What do you mean you think so?"

Aizawa contemplated the options. Amnesia was the probably something to consider, but the weird clothes and dried blood was another issue.

The kid dropped his smile and turned to look out in the city below, "I don't know where I am."

"You're in Tokyo, Japan." Aizawa's words received a hum from the male and he sighed, "Come with me. I'll go see if your parents put you as a missing child."

Without another word, Aizawa started to open the door, "Are you coming?"

His ears barely caught onto the soft, unfamiliar accent, of the 15 year old boy.

"Can you say that louder?"

The stranger just lifted his head up and looked Aizawa directly in the eye.

"I don't have parents."

And when Aizawa blinked, the male was gone.

A chill ran down the teacher's spine when he remembered the lifeless look in [y/n]'s eyes. He wondered what exactly the male had to go through to look like that.

Hizashi wondered what caused his friend to have a troubled expression, "What's wrong with you?"

Aizawa just looked at him, "Nothing."

Later that day, the pro hero went back out to the rooftop he saw the young male at, and soon behold he was there again.

[y/n] heard the male come from miles away, and today he wished the hero had never came.

"Kid don't you have anywhere to go?"

His question barely stirred a response in the boy, and it seemed like he was out of it more than usual.

The [h/c] haired male shook his head, looking down at the city below where his mind replayed battles within the war. He clearly saw himself, along with the countless people he wasn't able to save.

"A no then." Aizawa sighed, running a hand through his hair as he wondered why he came back to this spot, "What's your name kid."

[y/n] automatically responded, it didn't matter if he gave him a name or not, he wouldn't show up in any records.

"[f/n] [l/n]" 'jonin, team 7's sensei, ex-anbu' is what he so dearly wanted to add, but he knew none of it existed in this world.

He wondered why he was so calm since arriving in this world. But, deep down he knew why.

He never slept, and if he did it wouldn't last long before he woke up screaming for his late friends. Part of it was denial, [y/n] was good at it. It was easy to push back memories, to lock them in your mind. Another skill that [y/n] picked up during the war, just in case he got kidnapped, and he did.

Another part of him told him it was an illusion, a genjutsu. But no matter how many times he yelled out kai or stabbed himself, he never went back.

Aizawa looked at [y/n] with conflicting emotions as the male hadn't responded to his other questions. He let out another sigh before leaving the rooftop wordlessly.

There was something wrong with that child and Aizawa was going to find out what it is.

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