Archive of Our Own ^beta

He could see it. 

Them.

Something.

Whatever it was, Shouta could see it, out of the corner of his inky eyes, just barely brushing his peripheral. No matter the clouds in the sky, the fog on the ground, the darkness that bleed into the night - no matter the atmosphere, Shouta could see it, moving, stalking more like, behind him as he strolled. Yet he continued to walk, decidedly ignoring the outline that seemed to match his every step. 

His only thoughts were regrets; he knew he shouldn’t have taken the way by the river that night - crime had been at a strange high around the area as of late, and walking this path left him feeling exposed and easily targeted. But the tired man had just wanted to finish his hero duties for the night, as well as try out the new sushi restaurant that had recently opened, and this was the only simple way home from such a place without the need to scale the rooftops of his neighborhood. So, here he was, sushi take-out in hand, strolling down the walkway near the river back to his house after a long patrol, wishing for the sweet release of sleep, possibly even death. 

Continuing his trip home, he allowed himself to keep track of the mystery being in the back of his mind, making mental tallies of how long they’d been following him, and when or if he should act on such information. Decidedly, Shouta figured that if they didn’t choose to leave him alone soon, he’d just take a path to round on and capture them, before bringing them into the station. They could be dangerous after all. 

Four minutes had passed since he started being followed, and another five went on before the being disappeared from the edges of his vision, the sensation of some other presence dissipating into the night as well. A breath of relief left his lips, and all he could think was that he’d have to be plenty more careful now when he ventured this way at night. 

Shouta hated pointless trouble. 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

The appearance of this being continued to haunt Shouta for the next two weeks. 

As per usual, he’d be heading home after his nightly patrol, passing by the river that flowed near the apartment complex, and not even a half minute in of walking, the being would enter his sight. He’d see the outline suddenly appear, and the sensation of his hair standing up on the back of his neck indicated that someone, or something, was indeed watching him as he moved. It would linger and flutter about, observing Shouta for exactly nine minutes before it petered off as he turned onto the street that led directly away from the river's bed. 

It was almost like the thing had never been there as soon as he turned that corner, like it was all in his mind, all a trick of the light and the paranoid adrenaline that still spilled through his veins after his shift. 

The next night he was forced to take a different path home, as construction had suddenly been started on the area. Shouta would complain, because that meant he’d need to prolong his journey home, or fly the skies to get home faster; but on the inside he felt relief at not having to expose himself to such mysteries for much longer. Even if only for a short break of time. 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

Taking a new route home was different. Different in the way that Shouta hadn’t felt the strange sensation of being observed, nor saw the darkened blur in the corner of his vision anymore. 

Nothing was following him home, nothing was watching him, he didn’t have to worry about it anymore it seemed. Shouta was relieved. 

Three nights into his new route home, past an old gas station and next to park with a recently built in pond and fountain, his hair pricked and his nerves went white hot in alarm with the notion that someone was, once more, with him. Four minutes passed, and it was gone, as if the sensation had never been there in the first place, just like before. 

The hero grunted, annoyance bubbling in his being. It seems like his few nights of peace were nothing but a stroke of luck. One that didn’t seem willing to come back anytime soon. 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

Time flowed, and it seemed that no matter the way, no matter the hour of night or day, wherever Shouta went, his instincts would flare in a way that told him of a follower. His eyes would catch the movement of said follower. No matter the route, it seemed as if this being was always peaking around to keep him in their sight. 

Shouta had finally given up pretending to be ignorant of their presence. He didn’t try to hide his movements as he turned to look behind himself, letting his head meet either side of his being as he tried to find and follow the outline. But alas, he never could catch them, for the thing seemed to dissipate into the very air the moment his eyes laid even near it. 

It was driving his mind into a crazed frenzy, he felt as if he was going nuts. Honestly, at this moment, he thought it best to take time off of school, thinking that the lack of proper sleep and food for his diet was finally taking its toll. Then he’d tiredly argue himself, saying that if those things were truly the root of the problem, he would have gone crazy years ago. 

Thank kami I expelled my whole class this year…  

Shouta continued home as usual, trying to ignore the feeling that seemed to layer on him like another skin. This time, the feeling disappeared after eight minutes. 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

It was pouring outside. The rain seemed to scream at him as he moved through it, pelting its harsh words and boiling anger down at his running body as if he was the one to cause it such torment. Knowing himself, he probably could have with his sluggish and hard demeanor - his first instinct was to be suspicious and untrusting to those he first meets. Still, it wasn’t the rain that happened to bother him this late twilight. It was the feeling. The feeling, the thing, it had been following him the whole night. That had never happened before, and this sudden change in personality and goal bothered him greatly. 

Starting shortly into his patrol, when the rain had picked up and started releasing its anger onto the earth, it had suddenly seemed to appear. Out of nowhere, Shouta never even felt it coming until suddenly it was there. For hours it followed him, a bit farther away than usual, probably because Shouta had been moving faster to get away from it. It seemed to just linger in the back of his mind, the back of his sight, just out of reach almost, distracting him from his work. And now, here he was, rushing down the streets and thought alleyways, doing anything he could to throw it off his trail. He wasn’t ready to fight yet, not if he couldn’t even see what he was up against. So, retreat it was. A tactical retreat was never a bad idea, and was something he’s always tried drilling into the kids heads at school when he had a class to teach. 

Turning into an alley right next to an old restaurant, he ducked under a battered window cover that had fallen in a tilt slightly, blocking himself from the rain and hopefully from sight. A few minutes pass, yet he doesn’t feel anything, or at least, nothing too noticable. Letting out a heavy breath, he turns, heading to duck outside the other end of the alleyway when he chokes. Because there, he sees it. 

Sees them. 

The outline that had been haunting him for a month or so, leaving him feeling itchy and paranoid everytime he went out at night. Leaving him feeling crazy, that he might just be making things up in his head, that he was just seeing things. 

There. It was there. 

And the outline, the being, that seemed more human now that he’s looking almost directly at it, was young. Probably a teenager going by the height and build that was shown, or just a really small adult. They were standing in the rain, not under any cover, but stood behind a street light, as if it would be thick enough to hide them from sight. They seemed to be peaking around it, as if they knew they weren’t supposed to be seeing this situation, like naughty children staying up past their bedtime listening into an adults conversation. 

It was only fifteen feet away that they stood, fifteen feet and all Shouta could do was freeze, his mind going a hundred miles an hour wondering how, how, how ? Did this- this child , sneak up on him? How did it get past his guard, his instincts, his experience? Shouta’s eyes train harder on the person, and it seems they freeze as well when their eyes meet. 

Or, at least he thinks their eyes meet, because Shouta can barely see past their dark, soaking hair as it hangs and sticks to the front of their face, blocking his view of anything but barely the tip of their nose and mouth. The world seems at a standstill, for all but the rain, as the two keep their gazes on one another, and as Shouta waits - for a weapon, a quirk, an attack, something, anything - the other seems to get antsy, but essentially does nothing. They just stand there, gripping the pole tightly and slowly trying to make themselves smaller, as if Shouta hadn’t noticed them. As if they hadn’t been caught. Finally, he can’t take it anymore. 

“Oi! What do you want? Why do you keep following me around?” While, Shouta will be honest, he doesn’t know exactly for sure if this was the person who’s been following him, (for all he knew, that person could have gotten lost in the chase, and this was just some random stranger who happened to be interested in a strange mad clad in black running and ducking into an alleyway, and that’s why Shouta hadn’t felt them, because he’d been so focused elsewhere-) but he’s got a pretty good sense they were. 

When he’d yelled, his voice wasn’t actually that loud, just enough so that it could be heard over the pounding rain, but as soon as he spoke the person flinched, startled even more so than before. Then, with a suddenness that could have fooled anyone into thinking they were crazy, the person seemingly faded away into the rain. Staring dumbstruck at the spot, all Shouta could think was that he was right, he was, indeed, going crazy. 

Maybe Nedzu will give me a few days off, let me sleep a bit if I tell him I’ve finally gone crazy… It would be better than running his errands… That last thing I need in life is to start seeing ghosts… 

With a last, long look around, and a double checking to make sure he didn’t feel the presence or sense of being watched, he harshly rubbed his eyes, and turned to stalk home, making sure to take a scorching shower before he fell into bed that night, trying to rid his thoughts of the fading child. 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

Just like all the times he switched around his routes home from patrol, there was a three day interval of silence and absence before the sensation seemed to slink its way back, and the outline, of which he now knew as human, began to linger in the corner of his eye. With no regard for the peace of the people, nor for his own image, Shouta began to call out to this person, turning each and every which way as he did so. 

“Come on, talk to me! If you have something to say, say it!” 

“I don’t appreciate being followed around, ya know! If you’ve got a problem, then get out here and talk to me or go to the police!” 

“The next time I see you, I’m taking you into custody, so scram!” 

And so, time went on… 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

It was almost a whole month later when Shouta finally made contact with the person once more. The night was like the last, in which it was dark, dreary, and heavy with rain, the clouds seeming to break down in front of the people’s very eyes without being any the wiser. At this point, with about two and a half months of following under his belt, he’d come to ignore the person, letting them slowly merge to the back recesses of his thoughts as they became nothing but the same as the night sky, the honks of far off car horns, and the dim city lights. 

This person, whoever they were, didn’t seem intent on harming him in any way, just rather casually observing and watching him a few minutes a night. Granted, it was still creepy and weird, but he hasn’t received any letters with hair clippings, goat offerings, or marriage proposals yet. In Shouta’s book, that’s counted as a win amongst other things. 

It was almost two-am at the time, as said before, clouds drenched the earth, and Shouta had decided to call it in, hoping to get a bit of extra sleep before he got up to work with his detective friend for a case. He’d almost been home, sushi in hand from the nearby restaurant, when he’d heard a meow. Listening close, he heard it again, and turned into the alley from which it came, searching diligently for the cat. 

Succeeding in his endeavours, he gently offered it some of his sushi, trying to lure it forward so he could get close enough to grab it and take it home. He’d just got the cat tucked securely into his arms when in his peripheral he saw movement much closer than usual, too close for comfort. 

On his feet in an instant, he held the cat closer to his chest, the sushi bag that had once been gripped in his hand, now a spilled and soggy mess on the dirtied ground of the alley, as his other fisted into his capture weapon. His hair was raised despite the sopping nature that beheld it, and his eyes glowed their usual fierce red. 

And there they were, standing in the entrance to where the hero resided, small frame casting a large shadow from the streetlight behind them. They were soaking wet, the water from the rain seeming to plaster everything to their body, but with only being about five feet in front of him, Shouta could make out a few details. 

They wore what seemed to be a males junior high uniform - definitely a child then, most likely male. Their hair was a dark color, not just because of the wetness or the night, and the child was pale. They stared at the ground, fingers fiddling and twitching as they moved around one another and into the wet cloth of theirshirt. Tilting their head up, they seemed to glance at him nervously, but he still couldn’t see the eyes. Gruffing up a cough at the motion, Shouta seemed to find his voice. 

“What do you want, kid? Finally gonna tell me why you’ve been following me around these last couple months?” While an amazing feat, the dark haired man still had no clue as to why they were doing such a thing. Why they were so focused on keeping an eye on him. 

The kid stayed quiet, before lifting their head up to face him fully, hands still grasped into the soaked uniform shirt. A shake of their head was answer enough for Shouta, and he was about to complain when hair swept to the side in the motion to reveal ocean deep emerald eyes. They looked as if they themselves held the oceans inside, dark greens and unending depths, glossy and wet. 

“Eraserhead…” The kid trailed off, quiet voice seeming pushed, as if it hurt to speak, but he waited patiently. Maybe he could finally rid himself of this problem child, or at least get them to settle down with the stalking. He grunted in response, and the kid once more turned his head away before speaking up. “Do… Do you- Can I… C-Can I be a hero? Can I be a hero, even without a quirk?”

What in the ever loving -  

He stared more carefully at the child for a moment, watching as the kid seemed to blend directly in with the rain. Quirkless? Wouldn’t thought they had some sort of stealth quirk, maybe a blending quirk… Even so, if this all the kid wanted, then Shouta didn’t see any issue with giving aid in his response. Especially if it meant he could finally get out of this icy rain, and head back to his apartment for a nice shower and a few hours of peace before he trudged himself back to work. 

( He just couldn’t settle down, Shouta could never settle down, he needed to keep moving, lest something happen again, lest he miss something that could end in tragedy -) 

“No, not if you want to be a limelight hero - you won’t get anywhere that way. Not because of the power difference; that could be made up with support items, but because the general populace wouldn’t like it,” He watched the kid slump down into themselves, making themselves smaller as if these words hurt more than just the mind, but the physical body as well. He could understand, there was plenty of truth in the saying ‘A pen is mightier than a sword,’ but he didn’t let that worrying show stop him, he pushed on speaking.

“Underground on the other hand, yeah, you could do it - if you put in the work of course. The hero community is no place for people who don’t try. If you want to be a hero, you’re gonna have to work your butt off until you’re on par with your peers and then some. Heroics is a dangerous job, so of course there will be times you're at a disadvantage, but so long as you work and get the tools you need, you’ll be fine kid. Look at me after all, mutant quirks are basically immune to my own, so that tool that usually levels the playing field doesn’t really do much there. At that point, it’s up to me to fight quirkless. Just keep pushing through, and you’ll make it,” Now that his speech was over, Shouta watched as the kid seemed to brighten up, their small body uncurling slightly, their hands less tightly gripped in their clothes. Their eyes are wide and glowing even under all the hair, the emerald seeming to shine through. 

“... You really think… think I can be a hero?” They asked again. 

With a swift nod of his head, and grunted out ‘yes’, he reaffirmed his answer. A smile adorned the child's face, and soon enough it seemed the dark oceans that were the kids eyes spilled over on their cheeks. Or maybe it was just the rain, who knew, Shouta didn’t (even if he still looked away slightly to give the kid some privacy). A soft murmur of “how ironic” left young lips as the rain continued on. Shouta didn’t question it. 

He did, however, question the time. 

“Is that all kid? I’d like to get home with this cat now if you don’t mind - and hey, while we’re at it, maybe stop following me? Or at least keep it down; you’re distracting me on patrols,” He deadpanned, watching as the kid gave a start and a sheepish smile towards him. 

“A-ah, sorry Eraserhead, I’ll be going now… Take care,” Their smile grew as they turned away, and this time, Shouta couldn’t help but feel his own lips twitch under his scarf as he watched the ocean green eyes blaze with a small bit of confidence. The sheer relief and happiness in the kid, the new small bit of confidence that now resided there in their being; it made Shouta proud. ( This was why he became a teacher, this was why he did what he did, no matter how much of a pain it was, because there was something different about watching potential grow, about watching the future be created. This was why he taught ) 

As Shouta walked his own way home, cat pressed to his chest, he mindlessly wondered if he’d see the kid again. 

(And as he drifted off to sleep that night, his mind lingered on the thought of how the kid seemed familiar almost when the fire once more burned in their eyes for just a second…) 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

He does indeed see the child again. It was as if the rain brought them, for every time a storm reared its head, the kid would be standing nearby, clothes wet from being under the open sky, just watching Shouta do his job, occasionally trying to start a conversation (but usually failing, resulting in silence once more), and maybe sticking around a little longer even after Shouta had told them to head home. Only in the rain did the kid seem to make contact with the tired hero, as if it was some doorway that led to an open heart, a sort of confidence the kid didn’t usually have. 

With the increase of rain, brought the strange child around him more, and the more they were around, the more Shouta talked to them, even if those conversations were only just a few words and quips to go home. But only in the rain. Shouta’s never spoken anywhere else but under the cloudy night sky. 

Kinda like that lore we used to talk about as teenagers - Nore Ona? Nura Ogno? No, Nure Onago, that’s it… He was obsessed about that one… Shouta pushed it from his mind. 

It was about two weeks after their first conversation that Shouta decided to meet them halfway; decided to finally have a real conversation. 

It was late, rain poured overhead, and Shouta was ready to go home like usual. But tonight, tonight he had a mission. It had only started raining a short while ago, and he knew it took the kid a while to find him when it did, so he sat atop a building and lingered until he could feel the usual presence. Hopping down to the sidewalk, Shouta searched around until he could spot the usual dark hair through the downpour. He watched as the kid looked around for him, and decided to give them a bit of a surprise. 

“Am I gonna get a name kid? Or am I just gonna have to keep calling you ‘kid’ from now on,” The kid whirled around in shock, their body actually jumping into the air a few inches as they did so. Finally coming face to face, Shouta just stared, one eyebrow raised as he waited for an answer. The kid seemed to finally catch on, because not a second later were they stuttering out an answer. 

“C-call me I-Izuku! Call me Izuku, please…” Shouta nodded. 

“Pronouns?” 

“U-um- He/him!” 

“Alright then, Izuku. Now, not that I really care anymore, I want to know why you’re still following me around. I answered your question, I kinda figured that’d be enough for you, but whatever, it wasn’t, again I don’t really mind. But what about your parents? They must be worried about you - and what about school? I doubt staying up to follow me around almost every night is good for your grades. Aren’t you trying to be a hero?” Shouta didn’t filter himself much as he spoke, getting straight to his points without much care for the responses at that moment. 

The young boy seemed to freeze in place, as if the water that was raining down was some type of icy glue, sticking him to the pavement and locking his body in place. Izuku lowered his head and wrung his hands, his clothes dripping and running as he twisted the cloth between his fingers occasionally. It was a few minutes before the boy actually spoke, his response not exactly what Shouta was expecting when he asked the questions, but not too far off from a possible response. 

“... My parents don’t really care about what I do, and I don’t go to school anymore…” Either the kid was lying (he was wearing a junior high uniform), or there was a lot of emotional baggage to unpack there, Shouta wasn’t sure ( and you think he’d be able to tell when it becomes baggage heavy and not lies, because he’s got plenty of his own to still open up, and spends his fair share of time avoiding it with lies ). He hadn’t known the boy long enough to tell whether or not he could be lying, but he could work with this. 

“And may I ask why? To both those questions?” He let his voice sound a little softer; if this was a negative situation, he didn’t want to come off as demanding. He sniffed as he waited. While he hadn’t gotten sick yet from his nightly adventures with Izuku, he didn’t believe he couldn’t get sick, and right now, he felt as if all the collective nights were coming back to bit him in the butt. 

Well, it’s my job as a hero to help, and if this kid is doing this because of something ugly, it’s best to handle it now, even at the cost of getting sick. 

More silence passed before, “... I’d rather not answer that Eraserhead…” Izuku trailed off, still not meeting his eyes the whole time. The hero let out a sigh as he closed his eyes. He knew it wasn’t that simple, but he’d tried. Best to chip at this rock slowly… 

“Fine, that’s fine…” A breath, “Just- I don’t want to see you out here this late anymore, at least not all the time, and especially not in the rain… You could get sick, kid,” or worse, killed, and I don’t think I could handle myself if I let another child get killed under my watch, “Anyways, just head on home for the night. My shift’s over, so there’s no need for you to be caught up in the weather anymore,” Shouta turned around, getting ready to leave, “I’ll see you around eventually, kid. Stay safe, alright?” And with that, he left Izuku to head back home on his own like usual. 

It might have seemed bad to do such a thing, especially with how worried he was for the kid already, but from the snippets of information he’s gotten in the past, Izuku rather preferred to keep his home a secret, and Shouta could respect that (after all, Izuku had also explained that he didn’t actually know where Shouta lived, always stopping his curious peaking when he thought he might be getting too close to Shouta’s home. Which, strange, but at least Shouta had some privacy). 

So, with one last glance back, he was gone, walking home to rid himself of the rainy chill and feed his cats. 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

The next time he sees the kid close up, as usual it's night, but at least it’s not raining. 

Construction had finally finished by the river, so instead of taking twenty different turns to get sushi and get home, he could just stroll past the river like he had done when this whole situation first starteed. 

As his patrol ends and he traverses the path that was food then home, moving along the walkway where it started all that time ago, and out of the corner of his inky eyes, he sees the blur. The outline that he now knew as Izuku, a young boy who liked to stalk around the night and follow him around. The kid’s sitting on the bank of the river, knees curled to his chest, arms hanging lazily on them as he stares out into some strange world that Shout can’t see. Bright light from the moon shines down on the kid, reflecting on the water that seems to be covering him despite the lack of rain. 

Realizing he stopped and was currently staring, Shouta snapped out of his reverie and looked towards the way of his apartment. He glanced at the kid sitting alone on the bank, eyes lost to the darkness of the mind and shrugged, it wouldn’t kill him to sit with the kid for a bit. 

Stumbling his way down and over, he lets himself fall to the ground lazily, ignoring the slight squish of the mud and grass under him. Pulling out his sushi bag, he reached inside and grabbed one of the small containers, not even glancing up as he grunts and shoves the plastic towards Izuku, offering it over. He notices movement, and lets his eyes drag over in time to see the young boy face him and the food before ultimately declining the goods. His loss, more for me then.  

He grunts again and opens it, sending off a quick ‘itadakimasu’ before snapping the chopsticks open and stuffing his face with a couple rolls. They sit in silence for a bit, the only sound being the chewing of food and the flow of the water. 

“How’s Rainy?” Shouta looks up confused, rice sticking to his face as he continues to chew. 

“Who?” He mutters through his food, pushing another roll inside his mouth. Kami, I think I’m going to start personally funding that place - forget teaching and heroics, I’ll work there from now on-  

The boy, who, now that Shouta was looking closer is indeed wet despite the clear weather - was he swimming in the river or something? - grows a deep red, the color seeming to blend in with his wet hair because of the night, and covers his face quickly with his arms. 

“I-I mean- the cat! T-the one from, - ya know, the alley?” Shouta takes another second to chew as he tries to figure out what the boy was going on about, when suddenly it hits him as he swallows. 

“Oh, the cat, right - She’s fine. She’s getting along nicely with the other three cats,” His uses his chopsticks to poke around the new container of rolls he pulled out, searching for a specific tuna roll before popping it in his mouth, his mind wandering, “Hmm, Rainy… I like that, it can be her name,” He says boredly, continuing to eat. 

“Wha-what?! B-but didn’t she already have a-a name?” Izuku turns to stare at Shouta, and Shouta just stares right back before shaking his head. 

“Oh, nah. I’ve just been calling her ‘cat’ this whole time. Thought about naming her Dumpster, since she was hiding behind one when I found her, but ‘Zashi said he would pour glitter on my uniform if I named anymore of my cats after random things,” Shouta will forever spite Hizashi for doing it the first time; while he doesn’t mind beating up his friend, doing so wouldn’t get the glitter out, and knowing Hizashi, he would do again, beating coming or not. Shouta learned his lesson, and didn’t plan on making that mistake again. 

He could feel Izuku’s incredulous stare on him, but he didn’t show any outward reaction; it’s not like he really cared. If anything, Izuku’s expression brought much amusement to Shouta, but even so, he only ate another sushi roll. Man, I’m glad I bought this in bulk. 

“... what are the other cats names?” Izuku finally asks, and Shouta could feel the wariness. Without any hesitation he answered. 

“Mudpit, Bastard, and Cigarette,” Once more Izuku just stares. Shouta meets the emerald eyes with dead black.

“A… alright then… I can see what he means…” Shouta gives a half-hearted glare at Izuku, not really meaning it, but doing so for the sake of defending his little bit of pride. 

“Oi, I happen to like those names, brat. They’re logical; after all, I found Mudpit playing in a mudpit, Bastard somehow manages to be a complete bastard 25/8 for all that he’s only a cat, and Cigarette somehow always brings back cigarettes whenever she gets out. I don’t see an issue with how I named them at all,” He stuffs two more sushi rolls in his mouth as Izuku gives him a deprecating look. 

“Eraserhead…” Shouta grunts. 

“Call me Aizawa, kid. My hero name’s too long, and I’ve already eaten a meal with you,” Granted, Shouta was the only one eating, but he still gestured to the empty containers in front of himself. 

With a slight nod, Izuku continued to talk. 

For the rest of the night, they conversed about many random things, Shouta’s mind thinking lightly about how similar Izuku’s reactions were to him about his naming game. 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

It wasn’t that surprising to Shouta that he often found himself hanging around the boy Izuku all the time. He understood that as time went and people talked, relationships grew; even if they were covered in a blanket of not-so-subtle threats to go away at times because his job was dangerous, so Izuku really shouldn’t be following him. Yet, the boy insisted, and even though Shouta grunted and grumbled, he still found himself enjoying the company when he could. Nights were lonely at times, when Shouta had time to think about life and friends and family, the past , but with Izuku there, it seemed like there was never a dull moment. Not only that, it was kinda like he had some strange, nervous guardian angel around him at all times, allowing him to feel somewhat more protected now than usual. 

The night was clear, clouds barely brushing the sky, and Shouta had the evening off from patrol. He was bored, nothing good was on Tv, and he was really debating just going on patrol anyways when his mind wandered off to the river. Maybe Izuku’s there… Deciding he could visit the boy, Shouta pulled on a shirt and started his way over to the river, searching and finding the boy sitting by the bank, lost in thought and soaked to the bone as usual even though there wasn’t a trace of rain in the air. 

Shouta had always pushed aside that last fact, thinking that in all the times they’d met together, Izuku’s never seemed uncomfortable with his wet situation, so who cared? Granted it was strange, Izuku had said he was quirkless, but the tired man couldn’t help but think the kid just didn’t realize he had one or something. Who knew, Shouta’s met quite a few dumb kids over the years to believe such a thing, though, Izuku seemed much smarter than those kids. Today though, today his curiosity took over as he thought about the young boy not too far in front of him.  

There was a pattern, he’d noticed, to when Izuku was around him. 

Water was always involved; if they met, it was always either in the rain, or near a body of water of some sort. Specifically, if the sky was clear, it was always a body of water they hung at, when it rained, they could talk anywhere. 

The boy was always dressed in the same clothes. The sopping wet junior high uniform was always on his body, it was as if he lived in the clothes, as if everything he did was in them, and that included baths. Not only that, he said he didn’t go to school, yet here he was, in uniform. 

He said he didn’t go to school, and that his parents didn’t care about what he did. He was always around at night, always sopping wet, and always alone. 

Shouta let his mind drift. 

Flopping down next to Izuku like usual, he let his mind continue on its train of thought until the young boy finally noticed him. The slight tilt of his head and sudden start before relaxation giving his body away as aware. 

“Ah, Aizawa. No patrols tonight? You’re earlier than usual…” He grunted as his response, letting himself fall back to lay and stare at the sky, arms crossed behind his head. It sucks that light pollution is still a thing… to think, there’s more than billions of stars in the sky I could be looking at, but all I can see is a thin grey-ish smog layer and the black sky… At least there weren't any clouds tonight... Another moment of silence passed, Izuku staring back out to the river, and Shouta just looking at the sky. 

“Hey kid?” Shouta started. A noise of interest hung in the air. “Stop me if it’s uncomfortable… but I’m going to be real with you; why’s it that everytime I see you, you’re soaked to the bone? Not only that, you’re always wearing the same uniform - like swimming with your clothes on at night or something?” He let his tone lighten up at the end, allowing the words to come out as a joke. His dark eyes glanced over to Izuku though, for only a second to see his reaction before turning back to the empty sky. 

Izuku had just sat there; looking tired, weary, as if he’d been long awaiting the question. And now that I think about it more, hasn’t he always looked a bit tired? A bit dead inside? It was a few more minutes before Izuku spoke, his tone a little strangled, and Shouta was honestly surprised he was speaking at all, thinking he wouldn’t get an answer to his question tonight. Maybe not ever. 

“I’ve… actually been waiting for you to ask that… Or, well, I was expecting you to ask a lot sooner anyways…” A sigh was let into the air, and Shouta turned when he noticed Izuku facing him, ocean deep green eyes looking empty for once, as if all the water and life had been drained out of them. A deep breath before, “Would you believe me if I told you I was dead?” 

And everything stopped. 

Wha- “What?”

Shouta could feel his face drain as it screwed up awkwardly, still turned to stare into Izuku’s eyes. His expression was serious. 

Shouta just gaped. 

A grimace twisted Izuku’s face, and he turned away, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his uniform shirt as he let out a sigh. 

“Would you believe me if I told you I was dead,” Another sigh left his lips, “I wouldn’t be mad if you didn’t, it’s not like everyday someone comes up to you and casually mentions they died…” 

Shouta continues to stare, unsure of how to respond - what did he mean? He was actually dead? But how? Was it a quirk? But he’s so young? - then Shouta remembers.  

“Can I be a hero? Even without a quirk?” 

“How ironic…” 

He seemed to blend in with the rain… 

“My parents don’t care about what I do…” 

He tries to understand, and in this time, he tries to respond. 

“No-no… I’m just… shocked?...” He sits up, his arms going behind his body to support him as he thinks hard about what he’s saying. “It’s like you said... It's not everyday I get a kid following me around saying their dead - especially when I’ve been talking to them for months…” Especially when I’d been worrying about you getting killed, but it seems there was no need. He tilts his head and really tries to think, it all makes sense in some convoluted yet simple way… 

Izuku just gave a bitter smile, his face seeming worn as he started to speak again. Shouta made sure to keep all his attention on the young boy, not wanting to miss anything, lest he get even more lost in this straight way maze. 

“I… I won’t go into many details… but yeah, I died a while ago - drowned actually… and after about a month of just wandering around, I saw you… and that’s when I started following you,” Izuku seemed embarrassed to say so at the last part, his shoulders shrugging up to hide his ears. But Shouta’s mind was working harder now, his mind finally walking the right path to get the to the end, and if he was right - if his thoughts were right - I know how he died, oh god, I know how he died, this child, this- Izuku, no - I, why, why why why why?! He’s so young, the world is cruel, but he’s so young - 

Shouta tried to push the horrific thought to the back of his mind, his stomach twisting and burning and acidic in a way he hasn’t felt since… since - I need to stop or I’m gonna be sick, oh kami, oh kami -  

He focuses on something else, on anything else - “...About a month of just wandering around…” there - right there, focus on that, focus on that, not the mangled corpse of - the swollen body - they were so young - 

“S-so - so, you’ve just been alone this whole time? Until you started following me?” Izuku nodded his head solemnly. 

“Yep,” He popped the ‘P’, “I had wanted to stay with my mom, but she’d moved soon after I died… It didn’t help that at the time I didn’t know where I could easily go. I’m only allowed to go where water resides, so I was basically stuck to this river until I realized I could also go to sinks and things like that. Though it’s a lot harder to manifest in such a small area…” Izuku trailed off, as if to gather his thoughts, and all Shouta could do was hope Izuku would continue, because if he didn’t, the tired hero thought he might lose his mind. 

“I…” Izuku tilted his head, gazing at the sky as well, but Shouta’s eyes were locked on drenched locks, “When I saw you… I had recognized you from one of my old notebooks… And, after staring for a bit, thought it would be… cool, I guess, to follow you around…” His words came out slower, as if he was just floating with his thoughts now. As if words were actually just pieces of thought clouds that he was ripping off and throwing to what was now his mouth. As if the filter between mind and tongue was a little too netted.  

“I was lonely… I still was even after I began to follow you around,” He paused again, and something like relief filled his empty eyes, and for some reason all Shouta could think was a solid, Thank Kami , “That is, until you started talking to me… I was really really happy after that!” Izuku’s body shifted to be a bit taller, a wide smile blooming on his face, brighter than the moon even in this open sky, thank kami it’s open, thank kami the sky is clear - and all of it was pointed directly at Shouta. The tired man looked on in shock, his eyes wide from everything that’s been poured onto him like searing oil, soaking in his surroundings of emerald eyes, freckled cheeks, dark hair, and a deep flush that painted his neck and nose. 

The kid was young, dead, and had been alone for months - for months, alone, dead, young, so very young, god the kid was in junior high for kami’s sake, dead, dead dead, not even his mother stayed he’s been so alone - his only sense of happiness, of personality, of comfort being from the occasional glimpse of Shouta grumbling around, from the small words rarely spoken to him. Shouta swallowed harshly, and it took everything he had not to let his voice crack as he went to speak. 

“All this time… the only reason I could see you for short periods… was because you couldn’t leave the watery areas I was passing…” Izuku nodded, “And that’s why I could actually talk to you more randomly on nights it rained…” The young boy nodded again, his smile once more turning nervous. 

“Yeah… Sorry about the rain thing… I really enjoy these talks though! It makes me feel seen!” He slumps down a little, his smile, still ever so nervous, dimming into a self-deprecating one, “Since no one else seems to care much about me being around…” Real water glossed over Izuku’s eyes, and Shouta absentmindedly realized the kid was going to cry, “B-but maybe… Maybe they just didn’t notice me… O-or maybe they c-can’t see me like y-you do…” 

Shouta could only stare as tears fell down young cheeks, as the smile that was bright shifted to nervous, sad, until it was finally nothing but open mouth frown as sobs ripped their way from Izuku’s throat. Shouta could only stare as the boy shook, his whole body seeming to droop and drip water more than ever before, as if his whole body was just a flexible bubble of liquid. 

“O-oh Ka-kami Aiz-za-zawa - I, I I’m-m so-so alo-one - W-why c-can-an’t any-anyone l-love m-me - w-wh-y di-d I- I have t-to go a-an-and j-just- uuhh-, ” A sob turned into a small scream, and Shouta couldn't move, couldn’t think. If he did, he knew he would spiral, because this was too familiar, and Shouta wasn’t ready. 

He’d just tried to help, he’d only tried to help, why did he leave him alone, why did he go off - why did ‘he’ have to die so young?  

Shouta stopped.

He drifted, and Izuku cried. 

The two sat, the rest of the night, in that place on the bank until the sun was creeping over the horizon, each trying to hold themselves together, as well as think about the things discussed. 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

Shouta, for all he’s been through, for all the lives that he’s saved and defended, has never made up his mind about something so fast. After… After that night, as soon as Shouta had finally dragged himself home, he was sat at his laptop, searching for anything that might have been remotely useful for his raggedy plan. Information on ghosts, Japanese lore, drowned victims, and more became the basis of his search history, and while he knew it would look weird to others, he could care less, because in this moment, at this time - there was a child, a dead child , who needed to be saved, and kami help him if he didn’t do his job as a hero to help (If he didn't do his job right this time-).  

Like an earlier assumption, Izuku’s situation was just like that of the lore, ‘Nure Onago’ - and how ironic was it that Oboro used to be obsessed with that lore? How ironic was it that Oboro was the clouds in the sky, and Izuku seemed to be the rain that fell from them? Was this a gift or a curse? - the exception being that he was not only male, but had once been a living, breathing person - and he should have stayed that way, he shouldn’t have died, not now, not like that - 

So, doing what he did best, he did what he thought he needed to do to make it better, even if only by the most miniscule amount.

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

(And that was the story of how Shouta ended up with a blow-up green kiddie pool planted in his cat room, decorated with bunnies and filled with water…) 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

A week or so later had Shouta once more resting by the riverside with sushi in his hand and Izuku at his side as the young boy rambled on about some recent villain attack that had taken place downtown by the park.

They had chosen to… “ ignore ” the topic of the other night's events. Not because it was unimportant, or something they wanted to necessarily forget, but because neither seemed ready to take the next step, to make a foothold to continue on such things. So here they sat, the pair sitting along the bank, the kid halfway through a tale that anyone else would have finished in a few minutes, but because of the curious and analytical nature of this boy's brain, it was taking him much longer. While Shouta just sat, finishing his food, and realizing how late it was. 

Grunting, he started to pack up, his patrol was soon and he still needed to change. Izuku was still talking, so when Shouta started to stand up, he interrupted the story, pulling out a piece of paper and making sure everything on it was written correctly. 

“Oi, Izuku,” 

The soaked boy stopped his tale and turned to face Shouta with a curious gaze. Turning the paper around, he held it in front of Izuku’s face, making sure that he could still read the writing. 

“I don’t know if you can grab things, I’ve never seen you try when I think about it, but this is my apartment address. It’s not far from here as you should know already, but I still wanted to make sure you know the exact location,” Izuku’s eyes just squinted in confusion, his nose scrunching up as well in a way that reminded Shouta a bit of Oboro. Before his thoughts could go further, he went on, “I’ve decided you’re moving in with me - you told me you were lonely, and so I thought it would be a good idea to keep you around more. I’ve got a pool there, so you should be able to roam around the apartment with ease like you do now, plus when I’m gone you can still hang out with all the cats, or watch TV, or something…” The tired hero could feel himself growing warm with embarrassment, but he pushed onwards, it was a logical decision to make, he’d never abandon a child, dead or alive, he shouldn’t be so shy with this topic. 

“But only if you feel comfortable of course… You could always stay here if you wanted,” And didn’t that thought hurt Shouta deep down, stealing the air from his lungs as he hoped he wouldn’t get a rejection, but prepared for one anyways. It was strange for a grown adult to ask a child to stay at their home, dead or not, especially when they’d only been talking for a few months at the time. 

In the end, his worry seemed for not, as Izuku soon began to tear up and sob, nodding his head constantly. His body, like the other night, drooped as if he was completely made of water, and who knows, maybe he was, but Izuku’s being stayed together as he tripped over his words of agreement and thanks. 

“Well, I’ve got to go get ready for patrol… You can come over now if you want, the pools all set up… Just, try not to make a mess of anything right now, not until my patrol is over at least. That way… we can work out all the kinks of this new living situation together, yeah?” Shouta stretched a bit, watching as the younger nodded and started to get up as well. Turning to walk away, the call of his name caught his attention. 

“Aizawa…” He turned around, inky eyes finding ocean emerald. 

“Hmm?” A pause filled the air, and Izuku began to fiddle with his shirt. 

“Thank you… I, uh, I really mean it… Thank you, thank you so much, Aizawa ,” The tears were back, and his expression was one of overwhelming joy, the smile wide and spreading across his whole face. This really means a lot to you huh, kid… 

He nodded back, his face neutral, “Of course, it was only logical,” but once more catching Izuku’s eyes, he smiled. A small and relaxed one, filled with plenty of warmth, before turning back around and waving as he walked, keeping the image of the happy emotional boy in his memory. 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

Time… Well, time just went on after that, and Shouta found himself enjoying the company of Izuku at all times of the day instead of just the usual rainy or quiet nights.

Izuku, on the other hand, had taken a strange enjoyment to his bathtub. 

“It’s just so much larger than I had when l was alive! Plus, it’s much comfier to nap in than the pool is!” 

Shouta didn’t really know if the dead could actually nap, or if they actually could feel comfortable in a physical way, but he guessed it made sense since Izuku was indeed able to walk around and grab things, albeit leaving them plenty wet afterward. The hero had taken to leaving towels around the floor in the places Izuku liked to hang out the most as not to cause water damage. His couch was also now covered in a plastic sheet so that the young boy could sit without worry of soaking the couch in his place. 

The days were strange, as Shouta was still a bit unused to the extra company, but they weren’t unwelcome. The random mumbling heard through the halls and in his ears, the strange and loud bangs from the adventures of Izuku and his cats, the water that would drip on his face in the mornings Izuku peered over him to wake the tired hero up. All of it was strange, but he slowly got used to the new calm chaos that filled his life. 

Ever since Izuku moved in, the apartment felt less lonely, less filled with the regrets of his past and worries of his present and future. It felt more lived in than ever before, a sort of brightness was added to the lights, and a sort of clearance to the air. It was as if, for all the young boy was dead, Izuku brought life wherever he went, guiding some unseen force along behind him as he traveled and moved, and Shouta doesn’t think he’s ever felt so light and happy. 

Before it was always wake up, feed the cats, go to work, come home and maybe sleep, before eating and going back to work again. Now? Now it was mornings filled with gentle greetings and excited rambles of tales and things Izuku’s seen and heard. Now it was a race to get dressed as Shouta got caught up in the sight of the young boy playing with his cats. Now it was going to work with his mind looking forward to going home with someone to greet him, and he could truthfully say that it was a home now. It was a home that was warm and lived in. A home where a child taught him to make breakfast because he’d never taught himself to properly cook. A home where a child chided him to get more food and sleep and take care of himself. A home where Shouta sat down and instead of busying himself with work to keep his mind off the past, it was where he sat down and enjoyed some random show in the company of a happy child. 

This place was different now, and strange in a way that Shouta doesn’t know if he’d ever be able to fall back into the old version where Izuku wasn’t there. Where soaked towels didn’t litter the floor as he walked through the door. Where his cats didn’t run up to him in relief as they expressed their distaste for Izuku’s terrorizing. Where Izuku didn’t greet him home, and tell him about his day. Where he didn’t feel Izuku’s presence behind him as they occasionally went on patrol together. 

It was different, but it was nice. 

It was very nice, indeed. 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

With the tub being Izuku’s favorite place to hang out now, it shouldn’t have been that surprising there would be an ‘incident’. 

Shouta had been coming home from a long day, covered in mud and crusted with blood from some of the more harsh fights. Without even thinking much of the lack of noise, or the dried towels that lay still on the floor, he’d stumbled his way to the bathroom with his shoes on and his weapon dragging. Kicking them off, he undressed himself and turned the shower on, ready for the sweet feel of scorching water on his skin before a long nap. 

It was a few minutes in that he heard a noise, granted Shouta didn’t think much of it. 

(But Izuku did, he heard the shower, but could tell not who was there, and worriedly wondered who could be in the apartment bathroom. While it should have been reasonable for him to think Aizawa in this moment, the latter had told the young ghost that he would be heading straight to work that night, having something important he wanted to check up on that would take up the time between jobs. So here Izuku was, worried about an intruder, possibly some homeless, in his and Aizawa’s home. So, ever so cautiously, Izuku went to search who it could be-) 

Let it just be known, that Shouta wasn’t expecting to open his eyes as he sat in the bath and see just the bare front face of a drenched boy staring back up at him. 

Needless to say, a lot of chaos ensued after that. 

One filled with lots of paired deniable high pitched screeching, quirk usage, flying soap bottles, and a sprained wrist from slipping out and over the edge of the bath. 

Izuku came to recognize that his home in the bathroom was no more for the next month or so. Thus, banning him to the realm of uncomfortable naps in the kiddie pool. 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

Shouta had never really thought about touching Izuku. Never thought about hugging him when he was sad, or ruffling his hair in greeting when he saw him. Never thought about nudging his shoulder, or patting him on the back. Even when he’d watch the younger pick up cups and use the cat toys to play, it never thought about it. It never really occurred to him to show physical affection to the boy outside smiles either, seeing as Izuku seemed uncomfortable being held, touched, or anything of the like - the boy would flinch without much thought when Shouta got too close too fast, or when he raised his hand to grab something from a higher shelf - the signs of abuse were prominent, so Shouta could understand not wanting to be touch, to held - at a time, he’d been the same way, still almost was. 

So, out of respect for Izuku’s boundaries, and because it wasn’t something that seemed much important to either of them, he never really bothered with it. 

That is, until now. 

Screaming. All he could hear was screaming, sobs, heaving - it was terrible. 

Shouta had awoken to the sound of screaming coming from down the hall in the room Izuku stayed in. Immediately he’d been on his feet, capture weapon draped across his shoulders as he sprinted through the small apartment and burst into the other room. There he saw Izuku, eyes closed tightly, shape drooping and pouring water everywhere as he cried out from some phantom pain, trying desperately to fight off invisible monsters. His body thrashed and twisted, trying to get away from some imaginary attacker - he’s scared, he’s scared, I need to save him, I need to save him, protect him, protect him - So Shouta ran forward, calling Izuku’s name as he reached out to grab at the child's shoulders and pull him close, the deep desire to bring him in and embrace him with his whole body as long as possible burning his chest bright. 

But, it didn’t happen, instead, as he fell forward to bring Izuku near - he fell through. He fell through, the sensation of water gliding past and against his skin as he moved forward was strange, and in the end left Shouta face first in the kiddie pool. Izuku on the other hand seemed to freeze in place before letting out one last scream and shooting up in time to see Shouta also pulling himself out of the water. 

For all that Izuku could touch everything else, he couldn’t touch Shouta.

They turned to stare at one another, both drenched in water and breathing heavily. Though, for what reason would Izuku need to breathe, was unknown, most likely to calm himself down as he sobbed harshly and his hands grasped either side of his clothes. But Shouta felt pain, he felt so much pain his chest wanted to burst, watching as the child sobbed without anyone to hold him. He couldn’t hold this child, he couldn’t touch him, he couldn’t comfort him - Izuku continued to cry and all Shouta could do in his inner turmoil of wet and frustrated pain was comfort him with his words. 

“It’s alright, I’m here, don’t worry, it’s fine, you’re okay, I’m here, I’m here, I’m here, please don’t cry, I’m here, I’ll protect you, I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore, It’s wasn’t real-” 

“But it was!” Izuku yells at last, cutting him off, “It was real, it was all real, my death, my bullies, the heroes who ignored me when I was harmed, who forgot me, the world's cruelty against me and my life - everything my life was - my life was real, I lived it - ” 

He screamed and screamed and everything was let out. Shouta could only sit and listen with his face twisted in pain and tears in his own eyes as Izuku told of his nightmares that were really his life. As he spoke of friends turned enemies, of this kacchan who gave him the most grief, neglect from everyone including his mother at times, his father who beat him and then finally left, of school, of discrimination, of villain attacks, and turn aways from hospitals - everything from beginning to end, Shouta listened, in his own whirlwind of torment that was his mind, he listened and listened as Izuku let out the nightmares that were his sorrows that eventually lead to his early death. 

Soon enough, an image was painted in his head, a film almost, one that wanted to make him rage on the world, wanted to make him unleash the deepest and darkest pits of hell onto the land and watch all of it burn. 

A boy, empty and absent of life, no glow of happiness, no warmth of safety; a hollow shell walking along the streets, feet dragging, body burned and covered in guck. The words of multiple heroes shaming Izuku would be repeating in his head and on his tongue as they told him of his wrong doings before telling him off - that specific image of a hero, bright blond and smiling wide leaving him on a roof after they’d just broken the young boys only last bits of soul, wet that last bit of fire that had still tried to burn deep. Then it was the picture of the bridge, where Izuku had sat for an hour - a bridge that was just a few blocks away from Shouta’s house, a bridge he now saw every day practically, yet never passed before. A bridge that had he just paid a bit more attention to, had just past a month earlier, could have saved a life. Could have saved the life of a young boy with the heart of a hero, wonderfully bright spirits, and caring eyes that was killed too early - before deciding to stand up and take off his red shoes, dropping his bag right next to them. Izuku would pull himself up and step up onto the rail and overlook everything in front of him before giving a bitter smile and letting himself fall forward, let himself be free, to rid himself of a world that never wanted him in the first place -- And how funny? How funny was it that the time after the child’s long dead and gone he was finally wanted? 

When he was gone, he was finally wanted, because Shouta was later and the world was cruel - but now, now Shouta wanted this child, to care for and comfort and hold close; this was his child, his Izuku, his son.  

Shouta listened, and even though he knew it was futile, tried to hold his child, tried to make this right, to bring him close and whisper words of reassurance and comfort into his soaked hair, but all he could do was let his arms pass through Izuku over and over and over and over again as he kept trying to hold him. The tears that had flooded his eyes were now pouring over like broken dams crashing under the waves. He wanted to hold his son. More tears fell as he thought about the world and how bad it was to Izuku and how it hasn’t even been a full year since the two had met, since they started talking, since they started living together - but Izuku has become so much to Shouta now, has changed his life in strange and subtle ways, and he just wants to hold him, care for him right now, he’s in so much pain, please, why can’t I even hold my own child, kami, please- 

While not actually able to grasp Izuku, Shouta had held Izuku for the first time as they cried over the world and its unfairness. 

(And down in the depths of Shouta’s mind all he could think about was the similarities between Izuku and Oboro, of their deaths and how it was his fault, of how the world let them down, of how young they were - but he tried to remember a difference, he tried to remember and it worked; because while Oboro had been his friend and was now dead and a scar on his heart, he was the past while Izuku was the future, was his son, and even if dead, was his life now) 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

Nightmares became much more frequent as of late, it was like that first night set everything else in motion when plaguing their dreams - both Izuku’s and Shouta’s. The young boy seemed to have repeating nightmares about the day of his death, about what happened before he jumped and remembering how it felt after. To have his lungs filled with liquid as the air was forced out. Shouta’s own coming from memories of a long time ago when he was still a teenager himself, still training to be the hero he was now, watching as buildings fell and people were crushed. 

There were many nights spent sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the Tv as they tried to forget themselves, tried to remove their beings from existence, disperse any connection to the past. Some nights, as they sat, their minds far away from their body, one of them would quietly murmur into the air, sometimes it could be considered words, most times it was just the randoms of syllables and mutters that were intangible. 

“Why do you sleep, if this keeps happening?” Shouta would ask some nights, never caring that he’d asked once before, never caring because he never remembered. 

“Because if I don’t I forget that I’m dead,” Izuku would answer over and over every time Shouta asked the question, because he never remembered answering it the nights before either. 

“Why do you sleep, even though this happens?” Izuku would always ask afterwards, as if he’d forgotten that Shouta was human and living and needed sleep as such.

“Because if I don’t I’ll forget my mistakes,” Shouta would reply, his voice staying the same, but his face twitching down. 

They would sit like this for hours, just staring blankly at the Tv, at the wall, before going back to bed robotically, their minds drifting far too off, never really remembering the events of the night, only that they’d woken up because of a nightmare and eventually fell back to sleep. 

Who knew finding family would drag up old baggage? 

Who knew it would all lead to this? 

How a strange shadow in the rain became a child who wanted to become a hero, became a problem child who followed him around, became Izuku who was nice to talk to and great company to keep, became a dead boy who was lonely and suddenly reminded Shouta too much of his dead friend, became his roommate that strangely loved his bathtub and kind of terrorized his cats, and finally became his son who Shouta would die for. 

It’s almost been a whole year, and Shouta can’t get over how things went from a strange normal to light hearted to dark and heavy so very quickly. 

He doesn’t know how, just that these things did indeed happen and that this was life now, and the best thing to do was to try and move forward and make as many good memories to cover the bad. So, with permission from Nedzu, Shouta decided it was best to give themselves a break. To give Shouta a new memory, and to give Izuku the thing he’d always wanted but couldn’t receive because of the hand the universe gave him at birth. Because the world pushed him a little too hard. 

So there he was, standing in front of the gates of UA, empty bucket in hand and getting ready to walk in. The school was empty except for a few teachers here and there, as well as a few students who needed to be here for clubs or extra studying. Izuku wasn’t next to him yet, couldn’t be due to the lack of water, so as soon as Shouta was inside he filled the bucket with water and began to wait for the boy. 

It was a few minutes before a small ripple in the water led to the top of a head poking out. Emerald eyes stared up into inky ones, and a face lifted out to reveal a large smile and freckled cheeks. Shouta smiled back, giving a quick ‘welcome kid’ as he stood from where he’d been leaning against the wall. He watched as hands rose from the water to hold the edge of the bucket, as eyes peered over as well to see the things around him. Shouta let out a huff of amusement when he saw Izuku’s eyes grow wide and start to sparkle practically in amazement, turning back to look at Shouta for a quick second before once more hungrily scanning all the details of the inside of UA. 

From there Shouta lugged Izuku around in the bucket, taking him to all the training grounds, all the classrooms, the teacher's lounge even when he saw no one in there, as well as to some of the other on ground facilities, making sure to explain everything he could about each place as they moved. Occasionally Izuku would reach an arm out to point at something, and Shouta would stop to tell everything he knew about whatever it was that caught the kids attention. 

Finally, Shouta walked back to the classrooms, specifically heading to his own, class 1-A. When he entered, he walked over to the podium that stood in the middle front of the room and placed Izuku down on it, allowing him to see the whole classroom from his position. 

“This is where I teach - the next generations of heroes all grow and learn here,” He paused, taking a breath and letting it out, “I know, that had you taken the exam, pass or fail, you would have been sat in this class, I would have been your teacher,” For all that Shouta has learned about the boy, for all that he’s heard and listened to, he knew for a fact that Izuku would have ended up here, would have pushed and clawed his way into his class. The thought makes Shouta proud, and as he turns to see Izuku looking down in the bucket, hands gripping the bucket edge, knuckles white, he feels himself soften. 

“Izuku, look at me,” The young boy hesitates before finally turning around, his eyes were watery, more so than usual. Shouta held his gaze, forcing as much warmth and care into his own eyes as he could muster before he spoke, “I’ll tell you as many times as you need me to, but you can be a hero. You are a hero, doing what you do now, being yourself, you’ve helped me, and I know, had you still gone on, even without my answer, you would have been a hero. And I would have gladly been your teacher - I don’t doubt you’d be one of my best students, though, probably my most chaotic one as well…” Shouta chuckled a little to himself, thinking about how much of a pain Izuku would have been running around. He’d probably be the type to run around and break his bones all the time… 

Feeling a little worn, he continued on, wanting to get to his point, “But, at this moment, while you can’t necessarily be a hero like those around you, you can still be something else…” he gulped a little, averting his gaze as Izuku seemed to peak up at the notion of being able to do something else, even if not exactly being a hero, “If… If you don’t mind taking another title instead of ‘hero’ or ‘student’, I… I wouldn’t mind calling you my son…” Heat rose around his face and all he could think about was how awkward that sounded to his own ears, but he still waited and watched as Izuku started before ducking into the water fully and out of sight. 

A sense of panic and dread filled Shouta as he thought the worst about the situation, about how he must have messed up, must have crossed a line that wasn’t ready to be crossed, might never be ready to cross . But then suddenly there was a large splash and his body was being engulfed by water, the feeling wrapping around him like a hug, and it only took him a second to realize what was going on. With a quickness he used in battle, he wrapped his arms around himself in the only way he knew could replicate and give a hug to the younger. To his son. He grasped himself tightly, trying to give as much affection as he could in his display, I wish I could just hug him, kami it’s all I could ask for at this point… 

He felt the water pull back a little, and looked up to see Izuku’s head forming once more, the rest of his body still engulfing Shouta. Tears were streaming down his face, but he was smiling, just like the day Shouta asked him to move in. He was overwhelmed with joy. 

“Y-yeah… That’s… That’s fine, dad - I would really love that title,” 

Shouta felt warm in a way he hasn’t since Oboro was alive. 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

They had been laying on the couch in their living room when Izuku started talking. The Tv had been playing some old documentaries about some of the first generation heroes from long ago, and the two had just been relaxing, enjoying the next hour or so before they went to bed. It was then, in the middle of some speech about how most heroes in the beginning had been vigilantes when Izuku brought up the topic of the day Izuku moved in. 

The young boy had been laying on the arm of the couch as he spoke fondly of the day, reciting how it seemed to be from his perspective. How Shouta had just seemed so awkward as he laid on the ground, yet contemplative at the same time, as if he’d been trying to solve a difficult puzzle but knew nothing about the topic choice, so he was just buying time. Told about how funny it was in Izuku’s eyes when he watched as the hero seemed to grow even more awkward and stiff as he grabbed and showed Izuku the paper. 

Explained that when the topic had passed, he’d felt so happy in that moment that there was only one thing on his mind as he listened and watched Shouta leave for patrol. 

“ ‘I will follow you until you die’ was what I thought when you asked me to move in with you… The thought was only strengthened when you smiled at me, as if I meant something, as if I was real in your eyes, as if I was real for the first time…” A fond smile kept its place on his face, “I actually told myself that I would stay longer if the universe let me, that I’d follow you to the ends of the Earth, space, and time if allowed…” Shouta looked on with embarrassment coloring his cheeks, but a warm feeling in his chest. 

“I always thought of how similar I was to lore, Nure Onago, and decided it would be cool to play that role, ya know?” Izuku turned to face Shouta, eyes closed as he smiled brightly, “So, you know what that means, right dad? You smiled back at me when I had done so first, so now you’re stuck with me!” Izuku jumped to engulf Shouta in water, only pulling away to let his head form as he laughed, and Shouta couldn’t help but smile down at the freckled boy. My son… 

Things would get better, so much better so that Izuku could be happy like this all the time, better so that Shouta could be happy with him. 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

(If only they knew how soon Izuku’s words would come into effect) 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

It was the day of the USJ field trip, and Shouta had decided to let Izuku tag along with him and his class, allowing him to see what the large structure was like in action. Izuku had been ecstatic at the news, and couldn’t help but jump around in excitement at what was to come. Shouta was happy to see the boy smile, a small one of his own decorating his face. Informing him later that he had to be stealthy, lest he get caught and cause a ruckus, the two went their separate ways until it was time for the field trip. 

So now here they were, standing inside the USJ as 13 gave their speech about quirks and how dangerous they could be, while Shouta internally scorned All Might for being so ignorant to use all his time up before his class even started when he was supposed to be there for the day. Izuku appeared in the corner of his eye just like the first day they’d met, and he couldn’t help but cool down a little, letting go of the anger he just felt. He should worry about that later, and instead try to show Izuku how much cooler this place could be when in motion. 

That is, until a few seconds later a portal was opening up down by the fountain in the center of the building. He watched as villains poured out, and without a second's hesitation he was pulling his goggles down, and pushing the kids back while yelling at 13 to protect them. Grasping his capture weapon, he bolted for the stairs, meeting Izuku’s eyes one last time before jumping into the fray of the fight. 

He never glanced back up to see if Izuku stayed or left, but deep down, he prayed the boy would leave if things started to head further south. 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

Izuku watched from his spot in the water as a portal opened up, as villains flooded out like a swarm of bugs, and as his dad lept head first into the center of the villains group, moving to protect his students like any good hero would do. Like his dad would do. He watched with horrific fascination as the hero worked through the villains like they were nothing but bugs to be stepped on, missing the hits from his opponents. Izuku stared as he saw hit after hit just slide against his dad, as if the attacks were just like his water and could only just glide past him. He watched as the villains went down one after another after another after another. 

He was also the first to notice all the other students ( kacchans peers, he belatedly realized) fall through some of those portals as well, landing who-knows-where amongst all this ruckus. From the resounding splashes far behind him, Izuku has to figure that they were all spread around the USJ building, probably to make them easier targets, meaning the villains probably have some minions spread around the place as well . 

In his mind, all Izuku can think is about how much he wants to help, how much he wants to rush around the place and find the students and guide them back to the front gates. How much he wants to appear at the school and inform them of what was going on - but he can’t. No one else besides his dad knew he was here, and with his looks and the situation, it wouldn’t be far-fetched a mindset to think the students would assume he was a villain tricking them. As well for the fact that Izuku couldn’t get close to any of the staff in UA without a water source, and with the building being as big as it was, he wouldn’t be able to get anywhere if he tried. 

It’s not like he could stand by his dad's side and help him at all. He can’t protect him from a hit, and can’t even hit back himself. If only I was alive… So, for now, all he does is sit and blend in with the water around himself, watching as the fight goes on. 

His eyes stay trained on his dad, watching as he finally seemed to get into a fight with one of the bosses for the operation. The man was covered in hands and constantly scratching his neck, seeming to mutter things as he did so, scratching more and more as Izuku’s dad got closer and closer, taking out more and more villains as he went. Hands-man ( what was his name? Izuku hadn’t heard it- )  finally lept in when his dad was distracted, his pale hand clasping onto the hero’s elbow as he came forth. Izuku’s eyes widened in fear as he saw his dad's elbow slowly peel away and crumble to dust, blood beginning to pour out lightly as the muscle started to show. They fought for a while, Izuku’s dad getting more hits in than the villain, making sure to take extra caution to stay away from the pale hands. 

He gets another hit with pales hands, and this time Izuku has to turn away, he doesn't want to see how badly his dad got hurt, doesn't want to see how much blood might spill from his wounds, doesn’t want to - at least, he does until he catches a glimpse of it . Sees the large dark blur moving at speeds that seem almost impossible for people with speed quirks. Sees it stop suddenly and snatch his dad from the ground as if he was a ragdoll. Sees when the things smashes and crushes his body into the ground. 

The giant bird thing, ( because that wasn’t human, it couldn’t be human, and oh kami if it was, because how could a person just do that- ) was gnarly and mangled and large, it’s skin was a deep purple almost, and the whole top of its brain was exposed. The thing's large fists lifts again, his dad still in its hold before once more swinging down with all its might. Izuku listened as the sound of his dad's bones shattering and crunching filled the air. As the Hands-man began to laugh maniacally, as the giant bird thing continued to slam its fist into the ground with his dad still there. 

Izuku couldn't handle it, he couldn’t just watch, no he couldn’t just sit still. He screamed. He screamed and burst forward. 

NO, STOP, STOP HURTING HIM, STOP, STOP STOP “STOP HURTING HIM! LEAVE HIM ALONE!” I WON’T LET YOU TAKE AWAY THE ONE GOOD THING THAT’S HAPPENED TO ME- “I WON’T LET YOU HURT HIM!” 

Izuku threw himself at his dad, at the bird, letting himself engulf the two as his body spread out the way it does when being touched by another person. The Hands-man called his bird thing ( A nomu- ) back, surprise coating his scratchy voice. The young boy just pulled himself back together, kneeling over the dropped body of his dad. His skin was purple and black all around his legs and arms, and his chest seemed awkward and caved, but his face was fine, for some ironic and terrible reason his face was alright. And kami did it hurt Izuku to look at; to see everything the hero was feeling in his eyes, to see his mouth gaped wide trying to breathe, tears streaming down his face, blood coming from his nose, mouth and ears - to just barely hear him whisper out Izuku’s name . 

“I-it’s o-o-okay dad! W-Why?” Tears were pouring down his own cheeks as he recited the line he knew his dad seemed to hate the most, a smile on his face as he saw his dad's eyes flicker with tired amusement. Izuku just knew that his dad would roll his eyes if he wasn’t so focused on keeping his gaze, “B-beca-ause I- Because I Am H-here!” Izuku continued to sob as he stood, making sure to plant himself between his dad and the villains. Shaking like a leaf in the wind even though he knew he wouldn’t get hurt, Izuku clenched his fists and held them in front of his body. 

If I can just trick them for a little bit, just long enough for help to arrive, maybe… Maybe I can save dad… 

So began his game of make believe - Izuku moved and bounced, splashing his body against the Hands-man when he came to close, pushing him back and pretending as if he was waiting for a perfect opening of attack. Occasionally he’d throw his fist in the villains face hoping and praying the water went around his hand and into the villains mouth to choke him. Izuku punched his fist into the area where his eyes were, hoping to blind him for a second. 

But all he could was stall, not actually block, not actually cause damage. It wasn’t that long before Hands-man seemed to figure it out either. The villain walked forward, going straight through Izuku before turning around with glee in his deranged eyes. Izuku could only panic as he listened to the villain laugh. 

“Hmm, so you’re actually worthless, aren’t you? Your strategy was good for the most part, but over all your stats were too weak to be of much use,” He turned back to the broken hero, and Izuku could see the broken man glaring with bright red eyes at the man, still choking on his own blood and breath. Realizing there was nothing left he could do, Izuku rushed to his dad's side and fell to the ground, a stream of sob filled apologies leaving his lips as he watched the Hands-man slowly kneel down and press one of his hands against the hero's stomach. Nothing happened for a while until his dad blinked, and Hands-man forced his eyes to stay closed while he pressed his other hand harder into his body. 

Izuku just stared and listened as his dad wriggled helplessly in pain, his breaths wet, heavy and filled with agony. He couldn’t do anything, and kami did he hate himself for how useless, worthless, stupid he was in the this situation, why didn’t I just go the the building for help? I could have probably found someone, someone, anyone was better than no one, and now here I am, watching my dad die slow and agonizing under the hand of a villain - Kami it’s all my fault, it’s all my fault - why am I so useless -  

The villain continued to laugh and laugh and laugh, occasionally screeching about how powerless Izuku was, about how did he enjoy watching his father die in front of him, about stupid useless things Izuku didn’t want to hear anymore. The young boy just trained his eyes on his dad, watching as his life slipped away. 

Blood began to pour out of his mouth now, and Izuku knew it was almost time. So, with tears in his eyes and a smile on his face even though his dad couldn’t see it, Izuku leaned down and placed his head by his dad's ear, and one of his hands on his cheek. His hand melted, the water of his body just gliding against the skin there, and gently he began to whisper. 

“It’s alright, It’s alright, I’m here dad, I’m here,” He took a breath, “I promised I’d stay by your side, didn’t I dad? I promised I’d stay, so don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” 

He continued to whisper as he felt his dad's body still, tears pouring down his twisted face, his teeth clenched as he eventually just kept softly repeating ‘dad’ over and over into the air as the heroes finally burst through the door to save the day. 

With one last look at the dead body of his father, Izuku quickly dove into the water, deciding it would be best to head home. 

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

The funeral was a quiet and small affair, Shouta hadn’t been very close to anyone after all. He’d had no living family, and no other friends outside a few underground heroes he’d closely worked with, a detective from the precinct, and the UA staff. Class 1-A came as well out of respect; for protecting them until his last breath, and for being the first teacher on their road to being heroes, for setting the basis of what they would do in life. 

In the will, when read between the people, said that Shouta’s cats would go to Hizashi, because he thought he’d take care of them best, with a note saying he could re-name them if he wanted. If Hizashi had said no, then Shouta asked Nemuri to take care of them, with the same note. 

They never did change the cats names. 

After that, the will asked that he be cremated with his hero costume on and his sleeping bag, and didn't that get a few watery laughs out of the crowd. As well that his placement be next to the grave of one Midoriya Izuku; no one knew the reason for that (possibly besides Nedzu) but they respected his wishes. 

While sad, life went on…

~ The Wet Boy ~ 

It was warm and a gentle breeze seemed to be blowing through the air. A light shone through his eyelids, causing Shouta to open them, the usual achy dryness absent in the motion. He stared straight, his inky eyes taking in the sight of a clear blue sky looming above him. Not a cloud in the sky, though neither could he seem to find the sun. Moving his head, he took in his surroundings on either side of him, long swaying grass filled with the occasional flower went on for miles on either side of him, though when looking down to his feet, he could see some wooded area, indicating a possible forest. 

Am I dead? He wondered absentmindedly, It would make sense as the last thing I remember was listening to Izuku’s cries… He blanked, Izuku… 

His thoughts didn’t seem to raise any alarm, the air around him keeping him calm. It was familiar, nice, bright, and warming. 

Peaceful. 

Does that make this the afterlife? 

Finally sitting up, Shouta stretched his arms upwards and watched as his loose t-shirt hung around his body. He doesn’t remember buying this at any time in the past, nor does he remember buying the sweats he was in either, but they were comfortable, so he didn’t mind too much. Standing up, he let his body relax, noting that his hair wasn’t falling around his shoulders but instead was held up in the bun, before once more turning around to see where he was, finding a small building not too far off behind where he’d just been laying in the middle of the field. 

The small building seemed to be a home, two-story tall with a western like touch. A long porch hugged the building all around the front, side and he assumed the back, a nice dark brown compared to the light brown and white of the house walls. Large windows adorned what he could see of the front, two on each side of the front door as well as a four above it. A balcony also hugged the building, but only from the front it seemed, sitting as the same dark color as its twin below. A small flower garden seemed to run along the porch, and a small plot of land about ten feet in front of the house indicated a possible garden for food. 

Looking at the place brought no memories to Shouta; this place didn’t seem to have any connection to him in ways of the past, but a strong feeling took over him as he stared, a strong pull to move forward. So, trusting his gut, Shouta took a step, slowly trudging his way over, and just in time it seemed, as the front door suddenly opened to reveal a person walking out. 

There stood a young boy, familiar dark hair now soft, curly and highlighted with green gently moving in the wind instead of drenched and plastered to his face. His skin was a light tan, and freckles adorned his cheeks and arms from where Shouta could see. He was carrying a tray, something that was most likely sweet from the scent that was carried through the wind and to his nose. The boy placed it down on the ledge of the porch, wiping his hands on his shorts before looking off into the distance every which way as if expecting someone, until his gaze landed on Shouta. 

Ocean deep emerald eyes met his own inky ones, and they grew large and excited. A relieved smile was brought to Izuku’s face, one that showed his teeth, scrunched his nose, and crinkled the edges of his eyes. Shouta’s own smile decorated his face, small and gentle like always. Without a second thought, the young boy was bursting off the porch, flying down the steps and sprinting Shouta’s way, causing the man to quicken his own steps as he moved forward. His body tensed as the young teen came barreling into his body, trying to keep him standing. 

His arms wrapped around Izuku’s body, warm, solid, living, breathing, and here - Shouta squeezed and pulled him closer to his chest, embracing him with all the force he could. Their first hug, Shouta squeezed harder as he thought about finally being able to hold his son in his arms. He didn’t want to let go, not now, not ever - and it seemed Izuku felt the same, because the young boy just pressed himself further into Shouta’s chest, as his shoulders began to shake. 

Pulling a hand away from Izuku’s back, he began to run it through his soft hair, cupping the back of his head and cradling him close, as well as dropping his face to bury into the curls, whispering gentle and kind words as Izuku’s quiet cries turned into soft whimpers and sniffs. Kami, it feels so good to finally hold him, I don’t want to let go- 

“Dad…” It was muffled and quiet, but Shouta heard. 

“I’m here Izuku, I’m here,”

“I stayed dad, I promised I’d stay,” 

“I know Izuku, I know kid…” A hiccup, and Shouta couldn’t help but try to hold him closer, as if by even loosening his grip the slightest bit would rip his son from his arms and away forever out of his reach. 

“I was so afraid when I couldn’t protect you… I was afraid you would leave - that I would leave - but you didn’t, I stayed, you stayed…” Izuku let out a small sob. 

“I know, and I’m glad Izuku… I’m so happy to see you, I’m happy you’re safe,” 

“Me too dad, me too,” 

It was a long while before they let go of each other, both enjoying the feeling of being held after so long with so little contact, so little connection. They basked in it, sucking up all they could from this moment, all they could of the love and happiness and warmth, before Izuku pulled back and grasped Shouta’s hand, leading him back to the house, their home apparently. 

Stepping inside is like walking into another version of his apartment from when he was alive. It didn’t look the same, not at all, but the feeling? The liveliness, the brightness, the warmth and calm, and just familiar feel of family? It was all here, hanging in the air like it had been waiting for Shouta to come home just to greet him. Inky eyes roam over all the furniture he can see; all of it was pleasant and comfy looking. Pictures adorned the walls, ones he’s never taken, but clearly remembers storing in his memories at some point or another. Even his cats are here strangely enough, as well as a few extras he notes, watching them twirl and twist around his and Izuku’s ankles or bathe in the light from the sun streaming through the windows. 

Looking around, he feels warm. He feels happy. 

He feels happy, and it shows as he smiles light at Izuku, at his son , when they both walk into their spacious kitchen to finish whatever treats Izuku had started earlier. One thought floats through his mind as he moves around with Izuku. 

Being dead wasn’t too bad. 

~ The Wet Boy ~