Chapter Text
Aizawa pounded on the door to Hizashi’s apartment. His phone still ringing for the hundredth time trying to get a hold of him, His panic sets in further when he hears a familiar song from inside the apartment. Zashi never once changed his ringtone all of the four years he’s known him.
BAM! Where was he? Why wasn’t he answering his phone?
BAM! Where is his mom? Why isn’t she here goddammit? Someone, please just answer the door.
BAM! This knock was weaker than the other two, his hands were shaking uncontrollably.
He reached for the doorknob and quickly turned it, not expecting it to budge. The door opened, the creek of the old hinges filled the night. Hizashi never leaves the door unlocked. He always talks about how bad his neighborhood is.
He hasn’t been here in months, not much has changed. He quickly let himself in and paced around looking for the location of the still ringing cell phone. It seemed to be coming from the other side of the apartment, Hizashi’s room. He sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him down the hallway reaching the only door covered in pictures of different musicians and pro heroes.
He knocks desperately hoping to hear a voice telling him to come in, or to leave, or saying anything at all. He needs to know he's alive. No one responded, there was no rustling, or breathing. Aizawa tried to open the door but it was locked. He didn’t hesitate when he desperately started kicking the door with his boots. Each kick grew more and more anguished. After a minute the door flew off the hinges and fell to the ground. He rushed inside tripping on the door.
Still on his hands and knees he looked up. The ringing of the phone came from the corner of the room shielded from view by Hizashi’s bed. He crawled over the door, splinters implanting themselves into his thigh. As more and more of the corner revealed itself he could see a cell phone lighting up a bunch of white pills spilled on the ground and a familiar pair of sprawled out legs coming into view.
~
Hizashi sat in the second row of the church next to Shouta and Nemuri. The old wooden pew was cold and uncomfortable to sit on. On a normal day Oboro would be practically vibrating in his seat, unable to keep still. He would complain about the typical and boring preaching coming from the priest at the podium. Shouta would try to get him to keep quiet but to no avail. They would all end up giggling at each other and probably be kicked out!
This was no normal day. Both Hizashi and Aizawa kept quieter than a flock of birds before a hurricane. They both had red and puffy faces and wore scratchy black suits with fancy ties tied perfectly on each of their necks. Worst of all, Oboro was gone.
Once a kind, ambitious, and lively person, was nowhere to be seen. the only reminder being a framed photo of the latest school picture. He remembered Oboro complaining about how bad he looked that day, he can almost hear Oboro fuming about that photo being his legacy.
They didn’t even have his body to cremate or be displayed in a casket for a last goodbye. When the pro heroes went to retrieve his body from the scene the only thing left behind was a lethal amount of blood and a sobbing child tearing his hands apart trying to find his friend in the rubble.
No one was able to find his body. Whatever monster stole him, took his mother and father’s last goodbye away, and they will have to pay for their sins.
The service went by like a blur. Hizashi doesn’t remember crying but the stinging of his eyes and cheeks say otherwise. Shouta stays in his seat even after everyone leaves, his face looks stoic but intense anger is boiling under the surface. Hizashi wants to take his friend into a tight hug and take all the pain away from him but he knows nothing he can do can possibly erase what he witnessed. He stays in his seat next to his friend staring forward at his late friend’s picture.
After an hour even Oboro’s family left the church, they gave the boy’s an empathetic knowing look as they walked past them. A few moments after they left, Shouta finally broke the silence.
“Why are you still here?” His words sounded harsh and accusatory.
“This doesn’t feel real, I can’t process what happened. Plus I could never leave you here alone.” Yamada responded honestly.
Aizawa rose from his seat and the tears finally fell from his eyes. “I don’t need you or anyone. Just go.”
Hizashi tried to keep himself as calm as he could. “I'm sorry but I can’t leave yet. I just need a little more time Shouta… please stay with me for a little longer.”
Aizawa’s head hung low and his body trembled. His tears rolled down his cheeks and collected on the old dusty rug beneath them. He said nothing before turning around and walking away from Hizashi. He stood up and watched his friend’s back as he left him alone.
He knew Shouta was hurting, probably even more than he was. Despite all the excuses he was pulling to defend his actions, he couldn’t help but take it personally. The all so familiar feeling of abandonment seeped into everyone of his bones. Suddenly he couldn’t hold himself up and fell to his knees. A sob erupted through his lungs, to his throat, and finally filled the empty church with the ugly noise. He cried for Oboro. He cried for Shouta. He didn’t have any tears left to cry for himself.
Hizashi walked home alone that day. Aizawa was supposed to give him a ride but he never came back after he stormed out. He waited about 3 hours before he gave up and started his journey home. The sun was beginning to set and flocks of crows were painted across the sky. Cars flew by on the busy road and busy chatting could be heard whenever he walked past a busy restaurant or shop. Usually He would be listening to music on his walks but today he just couldn’t muster up the energy.
It was funny how the world kept spinning even when his died a week ago. How could he keep living his life when Oboro’s ended at 17? It wasn’t fair.
After an hour and a half he arrived back at the apartment he shared with his mother. He pulled a key out of his pocket and the door slowly creaked open. The lights were all off, the only light being the moonlight shining through the windows and open door. He quietly pulled off his jacket and hung it up. He walked past a sink full of dirty dishes, a table covered in beer cans, and rotting food. After stepping over dirty clothing he entered the living room.
There laying passed out on the couch was his mother. She was laying face down with her arm dangled off the couch still clutching a glass of boxed wine. Hizashi smiled a little bit as he moved her into a more comfortable position and covered her with a blanket. He loved his mom. She wasn’t home often but he was always happy when she was there, even if she wasn’t conscious.
He slowly pried the glass from her hand and picked up the shards from broken bottles littered around the room. Over the next hour and a half he cleaned up the apartment. He threw away all the spoiled food, cleaned the dishes, and put all the dirty laundry in the hamper. His eyes were swollen from lack of sleep and he felt lightheaded from not eating for a couple days but he knew waking up to a clean house would make his mom happy.
Finally he gave his mom a kiss on the forehead and went to his bedroom. He quickly peeled his clothing off leaving only his boxers on. He fell backwards into a pile of blankets and pillows he tossed on his bed a while ago and without even covering himself with a blanket his consciousness left his body.