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Oni clamped a hand over his mouth, stifling a yawn.
He was sitting on the edge of a rooftop, on the barrier that bordered it, legs dangling off the side, taking in the view. This particular building was situated close to a beach – not Dagobah, thankfully. He still didn’t enjoy thinking of that place – and offered a commanding view of the ocean. His mask had been removed and lay a few feet away from him.
Scrunching his eyes shut, he shook his head, attempting to shake away the exhaustion that was threatening to drag him down. When he opened them, everything in front of him took on a slightly blurred appearance. He squeezed them shut again, scrubbing at them with his palms. He sighed when he saw that his vision was back to normal.
Oni was nearing his eighty-sixth hour – just over three and a half days – without sleep, and he could tell it was definitely starting to affect him adversely.
Now, the obvious solution to this for most normal people would be to simply get some sleep, but Oni didn’t see that as a viable option.
He couldn’t take it anymore. He just… Couldn’t.
The nightmares. The constant terrors that tormented him every time he tried to sleep. There was too much. It felt like every time he closed his eyes he was back in that alleyway watching his mother disappear, or watching Rei’s father beat her bloody, or reliving any one of the hundreds of times the two of them had been hurt or scared.
Oni dropped his head into his hands.
The day he’d been shot for the first time, nearly suffocating on the pain alone, and then the few times afterwards. The numerous times he’d gotten food poisoning from the garbage he and Rei had scrounged up to eat, or the times he was actually poisoned because a restaurant had discovered him scavenging from their dumpsters and apparently didn’t approve. The time that he fell off a roof, breaking both arms and a leg, the panic and pain that he’d experienced before he remembered that he had a healing quirk. The time he’d very nearly starved to death because he’d gone through a period of not being able to stomach anything he swallowed. The day that he’d nearly been strangled to death – much like the time just before he met Rei – but hadn’t been able to use his natural quirk to stop it. Being paralyzed, and forced to experience a total loss of control that shook him to his core.
The day that… that man had… and then the blood on his hands afterwards…
There was a prickling sensation behind his eyes. There was too much…
Even just a few days ago he’d been stabbed, right in the gut, twice.
He pressed his hands against his eyes harder, until he was seeing stars behind his eyelids, swallowing back the heat in his throat.
Why?
Why was there so much?
Oni gritted his teeth. He was only twelve, why was this happening to him? Why couldn’t he have been allowed to have a normal life? Why couldn’t he have had a normal quirk? Or a mother that cared about him? Why couldn’t he have just been allowed to go to school with his best friend and dream about being a hero?
His breathing grew rough as his hands continued to press harder, to the point that it started to hurt, and clenched his jaw hard enough to crack a tooth.
Minutes passed like this, with Oni struggling to keep his breathing under control and digging his fingers into his skin much too hard to be healthy. All the while, a constant mantra of ‘Why, why, why?’ repeated in his head.
Eventually though, Oni managed to get ahold of himself. He took a deep breath, attempting to gather himself, before shifting his hands off of his eyes, wiping away unshed tears as he did.
No. He knew perfectly well why. Why he’d gone through so much. It was because he deserved it.
He was a monster and a villain. A vile piece of garbage that did nothing but hurt others. Someone the world would be better off without.
That… That had to be it, right? Surely there had to be a reason for everything? Why else would it seem like the world itself hated him?
Why else… Why else would his own mother give up on him, if not for the fact that he was a monster?
Oni shifted his hands a bit further, so that they were resting on his forehead, clearing up the view beneath him. He was about eight stories up off the ground. A fairly decent height, and one that most people wouldn’t feel comfortable sitting above with no fence or anything to prevent them from accidentally falling, but then, he had wings. He didn’t have much reason to be concerned.
He let out a shaky breath. He just wanted everything to stop. The pain, the fear, the constant nightmares, he just wanted it to end. At this point he’d give just about anything for a single night of peaceful sleep. More than anything else though, he wished he could go back to a time before he even knew what his quirk was, before he knew what he was.
He just wanted it to be over…
Oni eyed the ground all the way below him, the single stray person that was out this late at night, entering the very building he sat on, that looked to be no bigger than an ant. He inched a bit closer to the edge. Maybe he could…? It would certainly put an end to things.
He shook his head, leaning back away from the edge, resting back on his arms. No. He couldn’t think like that, not with Rei waiting for him to get home when the sun rose.
He sighed. Rei…
She would no doubt freak out if she knew what had just gone through his head, and rightfully so. She was the one, single person that actually cared about him. If nothing else, he had to stay alive for her sake.
He sniffled. He couldn’t just leave her behind. Not when the world had treated her just as harshly.
As tired as he was, head bogged down with exhaustion, Oni didn’t notice the other presence on the roof until he heard a foot scuff against the ground. He recoiled immediately, spinning around as he rose to deal with whoever had made the mistake of sneaking up on him, only to freeze an instant later as a familiar figure came into view.
“Hello Eraserhead.” He greeted, blinking a few times, willing away the blurriness that swam in his vision. He sat back down on the barrier, this time facing away from the edge.
“Oni.” The man said. “What are you doing up here?”
“What, a guy can’t sit down and enjoy the view every once in a while?” Oni asked, gesturing in the direction of the ocean.
Seeing Eraser’s unimpressed expression, one eyebrow raised, Oni scoffed.
“Give me a break Eraser. I’m tired. Didn’t really feel up to fighting anyone tonight, decided to just sit and enjoy the view.”
The hero was silent for a few moments, studying Oni, before speaking up again.
“You look like shit.”
Oni forced a single laugh out, squeezing as much sarcasm into it as he could. “Real rich coming from the guy that consistently looks as though he just climbed out of a dumpster.”
“I’m serious, Oni. You don’t look so good. How long has it been since y-.”
“I’m fine, Eraser.” Oni cut in. “Why don’t you go find someone else to harass. I haven’t even done anything to annoy you tonight. You shouldn’t have any more reason to arrest me than the usual vigilante stuff.”
He stood, ignoring the way his vision swam with the action, before moving to walk past Eraser so he could fly away.
Suddenly, before he could take more than a step, he found himself on his knees.
“Oni!” He heard. “Are you oka-?”
Oni saw a hand approaching him out of the corner of his eye, and before he could stop himself, he flinched back from it, falling backwards. He scrambled back until he hit the barrier.
He couldn’t help himself, and were he not so tired, he wouldn’t have had such a reaction. But in that moment, all he could see was a punch swinging at him, or a kick. All he could see was someone else trying to hurt him.
Everything was out of focus, and by the time he managed to will away the blurriness, he recognized Eraserhead kneeling down a few feet away. The man was actually displaying a modicum of emotion on his face. It looked like… concern?
Oni must be more tired than he realized. Eraser had no reason to be concerned for him. In his eyes, Oni was nothing more than a nuisance, just another criminal to fight and hurt and arrest.
He was right of course, but that didn’t change the fact that he had no reason to be concerned.
“Oni, seriously. You’re not okay.” Eraser said, inching a bit closer. “How long has it been since you slept?”
Oni ignored the way his heart was thundering in his chest, shaking his head as the world seemed to tilt.
“What time is it?” Oni questioned.
“Almost midnight.”
Oni’s face drew up in concentration as he tried to focus long enough to do the math.
“Then, eighty… six? Yeah, that sounds about right. Eighty-six hours.”
“Eighty-s-.” Eraser huffed. “Oni, you’ve been awake for almost four days? Why?”
“Technically I think it’s closer to three and a half days.”
“Oni that’s not the point. Why would you stay awake that long? Why haven’t you slept?”
Oni was silent for several long seconds, doing his best to comprehend the question, before muttering out his answer.
“Can’t.”
“What do you mean ‘Can’t’?”
“I can’t.” Oni repeated, bringing a hand up and bumping it against the side of his head. “They won’t let me.”
Eraser had a frown on his face as he continued to inch closer.
“Who? Who won’t let you?”
“The nightmares, Eraser.” Oni said, bringing his hands up to his face. He could feel the burning behind his eyes again. “They won’t stop. Every time I close my eyes it’s like every single bad thing that’s ever happened to me is being replayed to torment me.”
“Oni…”
He pulled his hands away to look at Eraser.
“Did you know I got stabbed last week Eraser?” Oni asked. “It wasn’t even because of my vigilante work. I was just walking down the street and took a shortcut through an alley. Then all of a sudden there’s a knife in my stomach. I broke the asshole’s legs, obviously, but I ended up vomiting blood for the rest of the day. And I can still feel it.”
He ignored the fake look of shocked concern on Eraser’s face as he continued.
“I’ve been shot before, and poisoned, and- and burned and electrocuted. And so little of it was because of my vigilante work, it’s just my life.”
What was he doing? Why was he telling Eraser all of this? Why was he wasting the man’s time, which could’ve been spent on people that were worth it?
It was like the words wouldn’t stop, now that they’d started.
“Did you know I was almost strangled to death about three days after my fourth birthday, Eraser? And then less than a month later I was almost crushed by a collapsing building. And then not even a year after that I watched my sister almost get beaten to death. And then-. And then a year after that I was… I was…”
Oni looked Eraser in the eyes, dropping his hands to his lap.
“Am I a monster, Eraser?”
The hero didn’t answer right away, looking on in stunned silence. Oni tried to ignore that as he averted his gaze, training his eyes on his lap.
“Because I’ve been trying to think of a reason why all this keeps happening to me, and the only thing I’ve been able to come up with is that I’m a monster, that I deserve every bit of it. I mean, I hurt people, I hurt my mother. I’ve been nothing but a nuisance to you ever since we met. Even now I’m just wasting your time. Surely that has to be the reason why.”
He clenched his fists, he could feel the burning getting worse, and his vision was going blurry again.
“But… I can’t… I just want…”
There was a hand on his shoulder, and before Oni could even flinch away from it, a pair of arms was wrapped around him. They pulled him forwards, pressing him against something warm, holding him tight against it. Were he even slightly more aware of what was happening, or slightly less exhausted than he was, Oni would’ve broken something before flying away. But as it was, he could feel himself starting to give in to the warmth.
“You’re not a monster, Oni.” Eraser’s voice sounded out and oh-. That must be the warm thing Oni was being held by. “You didn’t deserve any of it, any of that stuff.”
Oni’s hands drifted up, seemingly of their own accord, and his arms began to wrap around Eraserhead.
“But then… Why? Why else would she leave me like that? Why would my mother just abandon me like that?”
His arms tightened around the man. “If I’m not a monster, then why does the world seem to hate me so much?”
“You’re not a monster, Oni.” Eraser repeated. “Everyone else is.”
One of Eraser’s hands moved to the back of Oni’s neck, and he almost melted at the warmth of the contact.
“If your mother abandoned you, that means she’s the monster, not you. No matter what you think you did wrong, you haven’t deserved any of what’s happened to you.”
Something warm trickled down Oni’s face. It seemed like everything he’d been feeling, everything from his last almost four days of being awake and maybe even further beyond, was bubbling to the surface all at once. He couldn’t stop it, as he tucked himself into Eraser’s embrace as far as he could, and as a choked sob finally escaped his throat.
It poured from him all at once, escaping from his body as hot tears soaking the front of Eraser’s shirt, as trembling limbs that held onto the man like a lifeline, as sharp stuttering breaths. He couldn’t stop it, and deep down, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to.
He lost track of how long this went on. His already skewed perception of time was rendered hopeless altogether as he finally released his pent-up emotion. Years of anger, grief, fear, sadness, and a myriad of other feelings finally having an explosive outlet.
Throughout it all, Eraser was mostly silent. He held tight to Oni, whispering reassurances that Oni wasn’t even aware enough to comprehend.
By the time it ended, Oni couldn’t even hold his eyes open, puffy and slightly swollen as they were. His fingers were cramped from where they’d been gripping into Eraser’s shirt, but he didn’t even have the strength to move them. His entire body was all but limp as Eraser continued to hold him.
At some point, Eraser must’ve shifted himself, because he seemed to be leaning against the barrier along the edge of the roof, and Oni was tucked into his side.
Oni let out a shaky sigh, before speaking, his voice sounded rough.
“I’m so tired, Eraser. I just want it to end.”
“I know kid. I know. I wish I could tell you that things get easier, but life rarely affords anyone that sort of luxury.”
They both went silent for several long minutes. Oni could feel himself starting to slip away, but he did his best to fight it. He didn’t want to fall asleep, didn’t want the nightmares.
“I’m sorry that I give you so many problems, Eraser.” He finally said. “I know I do nothing but annoy you, and waste time that you could spend saving people.”
He felt a hand settle on his head. “Don’t say that Oni. You might be a problem child to rival those in my class, but you’re not a waste of time, and I know you’re doing the best you can. Besides, if nothing else, it’s refreshing to see someone that actually seems to know what they’re doing.”
Oni didn’t have a response to that. He fell silent once more, and continued to try to fight off the exhaustion that was still threatening to overtake him. Though, he could tell that his resistance was growing weaker by the second.
Eventually, it grew too difficult for him to fight anymore. His thoughts had become sluggish, and at this point he doubted he could even move enough to shake his head.
So, finally, he relented. He gave up on trying to fight the exhaustion, and the warmth from Eraser, and resigned himself for a few hours of nightmare-fueled terror.
He finally let go, letting himself fall under.
…
He wouldn’t realize until after he woke up, hours later, once the sun had begun to peek over the horizon, that there weren’t any nightmares. There was nothing. It was a blank, restful, peaceful sleep.
It almost made him feel bad for slipping out of Eraser’s arms and launching himself off of the building.
When Shouta woke up – he hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep too – Oni was gone.
It wasn’t surprising, but it made him regret not being able to stay awake. He wanted to make sure Oni was alright, especially after everything he’d learned.
The things Oni had told him… It was a shock to say the least. Before that moment – right up until Oni turned around and Shouta could see the exhaustion in every inch of the vigilante’s face – Oni had only ever been a source of annoyance, something to make his job harder and to give him no end of headaches.
Another, much smaller piece of him, was constantly impressed by the drive and skill displayed by Oni, that seemed to rival Shouta’s students, but he’d be caught dead before he ever admitted that to anyone.
But after the discussion, reality slapped Eraser across the face, opening his eyes.
Oni wasn’t just a vigilante, he was a child. A hurt, scared child.
Obviously Shouta knew that Oni was a child beforehand. The kid’s size, voice, and general mannerisms were clue enough, even if his face was covered most of the time. But he’d never realized just what lay inside of that childish exterior, why that child did what he did.
There were so many red flags and revelations all thrown at him in such a short amount of time that he hardly knew what to do with all the information.
Shouta wanted nothing more than to help Oni. He didn’t know the specifics, but he’d be willing to bet that Oni didn’t live in a good situation, and based on their discussion, he was getting hurt on a regular basis. If he were capable of doing so, he’d want to ensure that Oni had a good home to live in.
However, he also knew that unless he ran into the vigilante again under similar circumstances, with the kid ready to collapse with exhaustion, then there wasn’t much chance of him getting any more information. It was even more unlikely that Oni would let him try to help.
So direct assistance was out, but maybe he could go about it in a bit more roundabout manner?
Shouta had been trying to catch Oni for the better part of a year now, and not once had he been successful. It probably wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to continue to report that he was unsuccessful in apprehending the vigilante. After all, the only people he reported to had no idea what it was like to run around as a hero, constantly at risk and pushing oneself to the limit. None of them would be able to tell a difference if Oni got away a bit easier than in the past.
If he couldn’t provide direct support, the least Shouta could do was start taking it a bit easier.
He sighed, pushing himself up to his feet. It wouldn’t be much, but hopefully it would help Oni at least a bit.
Shouta just hoped the kid would be okay.