Chapter Text
Every weekend Izuku would wake up and put on the coffee machine. He personally didn’t like coffee but if it was the way to Shinso's heart then he would gladly endure the gross smelling beverage. He preferred tea himself.
As Izuku scanned the kitchen cupboards, his eyes instinctively searched for the usual stash of coffee which was, to his surprise, nowhere to be found. Frowning, he opened cupboard after cupboard, checking each shelf meticulously. With no luck, he turned to the fridge, making mental notes of the items that were either missing or running dangerously low.
“What are you doing, Midoriya?”
Izuku jumped slightly, pulling his head out of the fridge to find Aizawa and Shinso standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
“Oh! Good morning, Sensei, Shinso,” he greeted with a cheerful smile. “I was going to make coffee, but it looks like we’re out. So, I thought I’d check what else we’re running low on, you know, for whoever does the shopping.”
He closed the fridge door and turned to face the two tired figures, feeling a bit awkward under their equally intense, bleary-eyed stares. Aizawa regarded him carefully, his expression unreadable, while Shinso fixed Izuku with his usual slightly-annoyed-at-Midoriya stare. With a nod, Aizawa reached into his grey capture scarf and pulled out a notepad and pen, handing them to Izuku.
“Write down everything you think the class will need, and we’ll go pick it up,” he said, before turning and guiding Shinso out of the kitchen. Izuku swiftly jotted down all the missing items from the kitchen, his mind racing to ensure he didn't forget anything important. Once satisfied with the list, he hurried out to the common room, where he immediately noticed Aizawa and Shinso standing near the building’s exit, their heads close together as they whispered in low voices. The sight made him hesitate for a moment, wondering what they might be discussing. Pushing the thought aside, Izuku rushed over to them, extending the shopping list toward Aizawa with a nervous smile, his fingers twitching slightly as he handed it over.
“I’m fairly certain that’s everything, Sensei!” Izuku exclaimed, his voice almost hopeful, as if expecting Aizawa’s gaze to soften in approval. Shinso rolled his eyes. Aizawa simply nodded before turning towards the door.
“Come along, you two. I’ll need extra hands to carry all of this,” Aizawa said in his usual monotone as he exited the dorms. Shinso huffed, shooting a glare at Izuku before reluctantly following their teacher. His steps were slow, deliberate, as if every movement was an effort to drag himself into the task. Izuku trailed behind, feeling the weight of Shinso’s irritation settle uncomfortably on his shoulders. He couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done to earn the usual scorn this time, but he quickly shook the thought away. With a deep breath, he quickened his pace, trying to catch up without drawing more attention to himself. As they stepped outside into the crisp morning air, Izuku silently hoped the trip would go smoothly, despite the unspoken tension lingering between them.
Once they left UA, the trio made their way toward the nearby grocery store. Aizawa walked a few paces ahead of his two students, his long legs propelling him forward in a fast, effortless stride. Shinso kept close behind, his pace nearly matching their teacher’s, but his body language screamed tension. His eyes were fixed ahead, his jaw tight, and his entire demeanour radiated annoyance, as if he were barely holding back the desire to be anywhere else—or perhaps, he simply wished Izuku was anywhere else. It wasn’t surprising; Shinso always seemed irritated with him, no matter how hard Izuku tried to be nice or stay out of his way.
Izuku kept his gaze low, watching his feet move over the pavement, counting the cracks in the sidewalk as they passed. The hum of early morning traffic surrounded them, cars rushing by with the sound of engines cutting through the air, but the silence between the three of them felt heavy and unbreakable. Izuku let out a quiet sigh, hoping that the walk wouldn’t feel as long as it already did.
As they entered the supermarket, the cashier at the register offered a soft “hello,” barely looking up from his station. Izuku responded with a polite wave, his smile small but genuine. The soft white lights overhead buzzed faintly, casting a gentle glow over the store. Around them, other customers moved leisurely through the aisles, lost in their own thoughts or quiet conversations.
An elderly woman stood nearby, carefully examining two jars of what Izuku assumed were different types of jam, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. Not far from her, a mother and her young son stood in a light-hearted debate over which snack would be best for school, their voices blending into the background hum of the store. The air smelled faintly of freshly baked bread from the bakery section, adding a warm, comforting touch to the otherwise routine setting.
Aizawa walked further into the store, reaching into his capture scarf and pulling out a couple of reusable bags. Izuku couldn’t help but wonder—for the hundredth time—how Aizawa managed to store so many things in that scarf. Without a word, Aizawa handed one bag to Izuku and another to Shinso before turning toward the aisles.
With the list in hand, Aizawa moved methodically through the store, his sharp eyes scanning the shelves. He grabbed various items, passing them wordlessly to his students to place into their bags, or occasionally into his own. Izuku dutifully followed, feeling the weight of the growing load in his arms, while Shinso kept up beside them, his silence lingering like a cloud. Aizawa’s movements were swift and efficient, wasting no time as he checked each item off the list, a quiet authority guiding the trio through the aisles.
The quiet ding of the door opening barely registered at first, but the soft footsteps that followed seemed to cast a heavy silence over the store. Izuku felt a chill run down his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Something was wrong.
He glanced around nervously, his eyes scanning the aisles. From where he stood, he spotted two figures in dark clothing slowly making their way toward the cashier. Their movements were deliberate, almost too calm, sending a wave of unease through him. The cashier, who had been bored and indifferent moments before, now stood rigid behind the counter, his eyes wide with caution.
“How can I help you?” the boy asked, his voice steady with practiced politeness, though the slight tremor in his tone betrayed his fear. His question hung in the air, and the tension in the store thickened with every passing second.
Izuku turned slowly toward Aizawa, hoping to subtly alert him to the brewing situation. But he quickly realized he didn’t need to—both Aizawa and Shinso were already watching the scene unfold with sharp, calculating eyes. Aizawa’s posture had shifted ever so slightly, his body language tense but controlled, as if preparing for whatever was about to happen.
Shinso, too, had moved with quiet precision, stepping just behind Aizawa in what seemed to be a well-practiced manoeuvre. It was almost instinctual, the way they coordinated without exchanging a word, their stances calm yet ready for action. Izuku’s heart raced as he took in the sight of the two, their silent readiness a stark contrast to the uneasy calm that still gripped the store. Whatever was about to happen, they were ready for it.
Izuku couldn’t make out the expressions of the ominous pair as they whispered to the cashier, nor could he hear their words. But the look of shock and fear spreading across the cashier’s face told him everything he needed to know—it wasn’t good. A knot tightened in Izuku’s stomach as he shifted his position, trying to discreetly get a better view of the entire store.
His gaze flicked between the other customers, each oblivious to the danger that seemed to be creeping closer. With his heart pounding, Izuku began calculating the best way to get everyone to safety before anything happened. He could feel the weight of the moment bearing down on him, hoping there’d be time to act before the situation spiralled out of control.
The cashier, hands trembling, slowly moved to the register, fumbling with the buttons before finally opening it with a nervous click.
“Move faster!” one of the dark-clothed criminals barked, his sudden shout causing the other customers to jolt in alarm, their heads turning toward the commotion. Aizawa took this as his cue, beginning to step forward, his body tensed for action. The criminal who had spoken leaned closer to the cashier; his aggression palpable.
But before Aizawa could close the distance, the second criminal turned abruptly, locking eyes with Izuku. A wicked grin spread across the man’s face, revealing a dangerous, twisted delight. His glossy black hair stood in sharp spikes, and strange, pointed wires protruded from his scalp like jagged antennae. His piercing blue eyes gleamed with malicious intent, pinning Izuku to the spot as if he’d just become the predator’s next target.
Izuku’s breath hitched in his throat as he realized the man had singled him out. The moment stretched, heavy and charged with tension, as the criminal’s cruel gaze bore into him.
The man crouched low to the ground, spreading his fingers wide as blue light crackled from the antennae protruding from his head. In an instant, a wave of force erupted from him, tearing through the store. Shelves tipped over, products scattered, and customers were knocked off their feet in the sudden chaos.
Izuku staggered, barely keeping his balance as the floor seemed to ripple beneath him. Reacting quickly, he grabbed onto a toppling aisle just before it could crash onto Shinso and the nearby child. The young boy wailed in fear, clutching his mother’s leg in a white-knuckled grip as the world around him seemed to collapse.
The chaotic energy in the air suddenly flickered, stuttering as Aizawa’s quirk activated. His eyes glowed red, and his long dark hair lifted, billowing with power. The man’s abilities faltered, the blue light dimming as he looked at Aizawa in shocked disbelief.
But the moment of hesitation was brief. With a snarl, the criminal launched himself at Aizawa, his arm outstretched, moving with desperate speed. His eyes were filled with fury as he closed the distance between them.
The second criminal spun around, her eyes narrowing as she noticed her comrade’s failed attempt to stop Aizawa, who was now delivering precise punches and kicks without hesitation. Her own frustration simmered as she stepped forward, revealing her unsettling appearance—her skin was a raw, red hue, glistening unnervingly, and her eyes were dark, empty voids that seemed to swallow light.
She growled in annoyance, her movements fluid and graceful as she stalked toward the fight, each step carrying a deadly elegance.
Meanwhile, the young boy sobbed louder, his fear visibly manifesting as pink smoke began to pour from his skin. His mother, panic etched across her face, dropped to her knees beside him, frantically trying to soothe him. “Shh, baby, it’s okay, I’m here,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she struggled to calm him while the dangerous scene unfolded around them.
A sudden tingling sensation surged through Izuku’s body just as Shinso crumpled to the ground beside him.
“Shinso!” Izuku shouted, panic rising in his chest. He shoved the fallen aisle aside and crouched down, his heart pounding as he checked on his classmate. But before he could do anything more, a flicker of movement caught his eye.
The red-skinned woman darted past Aizawa with terrifying speed, her predatory gaze locked on them. Her sharp teeth gleamed under the flickering store lights, casting an eerie glow as she lunged for Izuku and Shinso, her clawed fingers outstretched.
Izuku barely had time to react before a blur of grey fabric flashed in front of him—Aizawa’s capture scarf. But just as relief began to flood him, a wave of dizziness hit, and his vision exploded into a sea of stars. The last thing he heard was the woman’s twisted screech before everything went black.