Chapter Text
A full moon, the night above the two of us,
I began to cry and you were laughing.
Your disdain was a god; my complaints
were instants of time and doves in a chain.
The night beneath us. A crystal of pain,
you cried deep into the distance.
My sorrow gathered its suffering
above your fragile heart of sand.
Dawn united us on the bed,
mouths pressed to the freezing cold spurt
of endless blood spilling out.
And the sun entered through closed shutters
and the coral of light opened its branches
over my shrouded heart.
- Noche del amor insomne, Federico García Lorca.
As the moon shone above the city, as people went home to warm houses and loud restaurants were filled to the brim, a battle was in action— far from these well-lit areas of metropolitan Yokohama, at a quiet riverbank near the fringes of this town. Two figures were flying about, their coats whipping through the disturbed breeze as blows were exchanged. Another stood just a few meters removed from the action, observing the ferocious onslaught. The adversaries tore each other apart, a pair of rabid stray dogs ripping for the other’s throat.
“Chuuya,” Dazai whined, shouting towards his red-haired partner. "What's taking so long?"
Chuuya grimaced as he avoided a kick from his enemy, glancing towards Dazai and quickly shooting back a response. "Shut up!"
A set of knives shot towards him, and he barely dodged as one grazed his side. Blood spurted out, dripping from the shallow wound. "Damnit. Toshio, you—!"
"Chuuya, you should have never trusted me." Toshio grinned, a pale strand of hair falling onto his cheek. "I'll give you some advice— informants are rats. We have an obligation to sell towards the highest bidder. And you, my good sir, didn't offer enough."
The redhead coughed, scowling as a stream of blood slid down his chin. "What the hell did they offer you...?"
A wide toothy smile shone on Toshio's face. He didn't respond.
“If you don’t overpower him soon, you’ll run out of energy and die. And if that happens I’ll get hurt.” Dazai called from the sidelines. “So—”
Chuuya interrupted his partner. "Goddamnit. Are you even sure this is necessary?" He stepped back from the fight, bent over as he held his stomach in pain. Across from him stood his white-haired assailant, who brandished a handful of shimmering throwing knives between his fingers, a wild smirk painting his face.
Dazai gave a reasonable nod from the sidelines. "It's always necessary."
"You know that's fucking false."
"Just do it~"
“You shouldn't get distracted in a fight-!” The attacker grinned, launching a fistful of knives straight at Chuuya’s throat.
"Fucking shit-" Chuuya yelled out, and a surge of power flared out from his body. The blades crumpled down like tinfoil as the receiver of said daggers released his real ability— Corruption. Pavement cracked and crumbled, the air heavy and humming with energy, and a sinister red glow radiated off Chuuya’s body. The orange-haired individual shot towards his enemy before he could even flinch, and launched an orb of gravitons straight to the poor fellow.
The battle was over in seconds. Chuuya grabbed Toshio's beaten neck, his eyes suddenly wide and fearful. "They never... said anything about—" His neck twisted with a sickening pop, and the white-haired body limply fell to the ground. Chuuya's face was fierce, an insane laugh piercing the still night air.
Dazai smugly ambled over to his partner’s side. He extended his arm out towards the wild individual, and blue light flashed as he touched the bruised and bloody forehead of Chuuya.
“Sleep.”
He prepared for the shorter to collapse into his arms, but nothing happened; in fact, the blue light from his hand began to warp and scatter. The brunette’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening; Chuuya's ability had gotten out of control. It was pulling in everything around them into his glowing red figure, but ripping all of it to shreds before it could meet his body. A dark sphere sat in the center of this chaos, pushing into Chuuya's stomach.
Dazai's ability was essentially nullified.
“Ohh, fuck.”
Those were Dazai’s last words as he, Chuuya, and the surrounding landmass were pulled straight into the black orb. The world spun, darkening; Dazai's body grew numb as his molecules were unwoven by the atom.
But at the very last instant, he was able to gather enough energy to release his ability for just a moment in a final attempt at escape. For a second an immense pressure stood over his being— Arahabaki —but soon it vanished and the darkness dissipated. The void shredded to dust, and out it spit Dazai and Chuuya.
Dazai’s vision spun, and after a dizzying moment of disorientation he finally realized that something wasn’t quite right. First off, they were no longer on a quiet riverbank by the city— they were now in a grimy alleyway, with the echoed sounds of traffic and people seeping through the passages, a red sunset sky shining above them. Chuuya lay at his feet, blood slowly pooling around his limp figure. But something else felt off. He felt… heavy? Light? Unbalanced and with a bit of vertigo.
“Hmm~” Dazai glanced down at Chuuya, who was unconscious and bleeding out. The brunette kneeled beside his partner, reaching out and holding his face tenderly. Despite that, this was no act of compassion; he was closely inspecting this familiar face.
A face which he had met seven years ago. A face of a fresh, young adolescent; a face of not a twenty-two year old, but a highschooler; and a face he shouldn’t be staring at, in the present moment. Dazai lowered his head and watched his own reflection in the growing pool of blood, where a pair of eyes gazed back at him; these eyes were attached to the face of a sixteen year-old Dazai.
“Oopsie.”
—
Aizawa hated patrols. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep, maybe look up some cat videos and cry.
But instead he was stuck outside in the humid summer evening, jumping from rooftop to rooftop in the shadows, searching for crime to stop. Tonight’s patrol wasn’t particularly productive, and the hero glanced down at an alleyway below where he saw two figures. Aizawa was about to turn around when he realized— two figures? He did a double take. There were, in fact, two figures; and from where he could see, one was bloodied, lying on the ground.
Children? Yes. These two were children, no older than his own students. And one seemed to be critically injured and unconscious, while the other glanced around nervously above him.
Eraserhead narrowed his eyes and watched them for a moment, before deciding that they were probably not villains in disguise. He leaped down from the building soundlessly, and the brown-haired teen’s eyes shot up.
“Hey, hey. Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you.” Aizawa raised his hands calmly, to show the adolescent that there was no danger. “I just want to help. Your friend over there appears to be hurt.” He motioned his chin towards the body of the redhead. “I’m Eraserhead, a hero on patrol.”
The teen straightened up, relaxing his defensive posture. There was a pause before he began to speak. “I-I’m sorry. It’s just that some people have been chasing us. My friend got really hurt. He’s ble-bleeding out and I don’t know what to do and he might die and—”
“Woah there. Calm down. I can take him to a hospital, don’t worry. What’s your name? And who was chasing you?”
“I’m... Dazai. And I… I don’t really think a hospital is a good idea. Uhm, well... we’re not really registered citizens. We grew up on the streets. If we go to a hospital, they’ll throw us right back into another orphanage.” Dazai shook his head vehemently.
The tired hero sighed, not noticing how his latter question was never answered. “He needs some real help, not just a random street doctor.” Aizawa narrowed his eyes. Could he take them to UA? “You know what? I actually know a great doctor. She can heal him up in no time. We can take you off the records, if you wish so.”
Dazai’s eyes lit up. “Really? You would do that for us?”
Aizawa looked away. Nope. No way am I not reporting two critically injured teenagers. When he glanced back, he grimaced. The kid’s sparkling eyes were too bright for his own sore eyes. “Yeah. Who was chasing you?”
The brunette paused. “I don’t really remember. I just remember fainting and… and waking up in an empty glass tank with Chuuya. He managed to break through the glass, but got cut a bunch. We were able to escape eventually, and Chuuya got hurt badly by them.”
The hero sighed. “Did you recognize them? Were they villains?”
A small grin spread across Dazai’s face. “Villains? Is that what you call them?” For Aizawa, it was a surreal experience; after all, this teenager’s friend was bleeding out below him, and yet he just naturally started to smile. This expression of vague glee faded quickly from the adolescent’s face, but for a moment he felt a sense of unease. Aizawa shook it off, blaming the shock of escaping near death on the oddness of this kid’s behavior.
He picked up his radio, and pressed the button as the static peaked. “I’ve got some issues on my end, in ward 20, no backup required. Just get someone to cover my shift.” The radio hummed for a second before a prompt reply buzzed out. “ Affirmative. I’ll have one of the reserve heroes help. ” The hero sighed, and glanced back at the two before him.
“I’ll carry him. You can hang onto this captu— scarf. I’ll wrap you up in it.” Aizawa leaned down to pick up the limp boy, and hoisted him up. Blood lazily dripped from his arms.
“Alright! So should I just tie myself up~?” Dazai grasped the bandage-like cloth that Eraserhead had told him to hold onto, tying the end to his body when the hero nodded. “Where are we headed?”
“To the doctor I mentioned before. She works at a school.” Eraserhead leapt up, with the brown-haired individual literally tailing them. Beads of blood drifted from Chuuya, and the wind swept around his orange hair.
—
As they jumped across rooftops and through the city, Dazai observed their surroundings. Neon billboards and lights spun across his vision; as he peered closer at one that showed a newscast, the date scrolled across the bottom. 8 PM, July 12, 2149. He tried not to show his surprise, but his eyes betrayed him as they widened at the date. It was nearly 150 years in the future from when they were sucked into the black hole.
Panic rose in his throat, and his attempt at suppressing his cry of realization was futile. Luckily, the wind drowned out his voice. The brunette had been through some intense experiences, but a time skip of nearly a century and a half? That was new. Dazai collected his thoughts, determined to remain calm as always.
The homeless-looking ‘hero’ landed at the foot of a mountain, and as soon as Dazai untied himself, they quickly trekked up wordlessly. Why did he agree to follow this random stranger? The now-sixteen year-old really didn’t know— but in strange circumstances, sometimes acting as if everything was alright could end up making everything alright. And besides, if this was some sort of illusion ability, following the flow could lead them to the exit.
The group found themselves at a huge gate, where Eraserhead scanned his faculty card across a digital screen, and they strolled through.
“What is this place?” Dazai marveled at the large glass buildings, a part of him simply acting and another part genuinely admiring the impressive modern architecture. He looked towards the scrappy individual next to him for answers.
Dazai received a strange look, but the hero gave a curt response. “A school.” Without much else, he continued forward and pushed open the paneled doors.
The blast of cool air from the air conditioning hit them, and the fluorescent lights shone in the dark twilight. Eraserhead carried Chuuya up several flights of stairs, uncaring of the small puddles of blood forming everywhere they went. Finally, they had reached a room labeled the infirmary, and he knocked on the door with his foot.
“Recovery Girl? It’s me.” Without awaiting a response, he pushed the door open with his shoulder. Dazai watched curiously, following him as they entered. “I’ve got a patient in a pretty serious condition.”
At first, there was silence, but a stout old woman ambled out of the side office. She held a kind smile and gestured towards the nearest bed without question. “Place him here, Aizawa.”
The hero carefully lowered the teenager in his arms down; blood began to stain the clean white sheets with a crimson red, blossoming in round scarlet orbs.
“He’s quite badly damaged. How did this happen?” Recovery Girl peered at Aizawa, curious for his response.
Eraserhead in turn nodded towards Dazai, who gave a prompt response.
“We were being chased by… villains. We were able to escape, but Chuuya got really hurt.” Dazai covered his face with two hands, hiding the sly grin that crept across it. He lowered his arms after his mask of worry slid back on. “So? How is he gonna get healed?”
The wrinkled woman puckered her lips besides Chuuya, and leaned in for a smooch. The sickening smack of her mouth reaching his forehead sent shivers down both of the onlooker’s spines.
As Dazai watched in fascination, he saw the redhead’s wounds closing. In the wake of this was a dark scar, but after a few seconds even this faded mostly away. “Wow~ So does her ability speed up healing?”
Recovery Girl nodded her head. “Yes, that’s the function of my quirk. He’ll gain consciousness soon. Don’t worry.”
The brunette raised his eyebrows the slightest bit.
First they call them villains, and now abilities are quirks? Seriously, these people from the future are weird.
—
“Do you need any medical attention?”
Dazai made a face, and inched away from the grey-haired woman who asked him. “No thanks.” Aizawa observed him closely. This kid was doing that thing again, where it seemed like his attitude was completely out of place.
Eraserhead knew at this point something was definitely wrong. But what? “So, can you explain what happened with the villains?” I’ll have to watch his actions closely.
“Ohh. Well, we were walking down the streets in a slum in Yokohama, and it was about noon. I remember seeing some weird fog and passing out. Chuuya was next to me. When we woke up in a glass tank, Chuuya broke through; but he got hurt really badly. We escaped through an open window, but he was hit by a weapon so he bled quite a bit. We ran and ran and ran for a while, until Chuuya collapsed. That’s when this guy” Dazai motioned to the scraggly hero next to him, “found us.” The entire time, his voice was steady and calm. But as the end of the story neared, his cadence began to falter; as if he was saddened and frightened.
The hell? He’s so damn hard to read. Aizawa internally cursed. Maybe his suspicions were wrong… “You said you came from Yokohama?”
“Yeah.”
He leaned against the wall, and held his chin lightly. “We’re in Musutafu, in Shizuoka Prefecture, about two hours away from Yokohama” So they transported them? Why? Eraserhead grimaced at a particularly brutal thought. Human, or maybe quirk trafficking. “Do you guys have quirks?”
Dazai merely grinned, “That’s a secret.” The tired hero sighed, realizing that this was getting nowhere.
“I’ll have to speak to the principal about your situation. And don’t worry, the police won’t be contacted as long as you aren’t a threat. For now, stay here and follow Recovery Girl’s instructions.”
Aizawa left the room swiftly, closing the door behind him and exhaling violently.
This is going to be a long night.