Chapter Text
Life is not fair, he has always known that. There is no justice for the weak, things are hard for the innocent, it is always a constant war, many things that have no solution or sink into oblivion. Discrimination that burns like third degree burns, being humiliated by a "weak" or "villain" quirk or having none at all.
Water droplets slide down the surface of the window, tracing different wet lines on the glass as the storm rages outside.
Aizawa Shouta, 21-year-old Omega, from his position on the hospital bed where she rested, watches the rain pounding against the window of her assigned room.
There is nothing interesting about it, everything is drab, gray. Where once there were colors now they are extinguished and faded.
Shouta, an Omega, an underground pro-hero, has heard a lot, observed a lot, experienced a lot; after all, that comes as, not only part of his job, but also part of his own life. He knows the darkest deep down, he faces situations that Daylight heroes don't face, he listens more, he knows more.
His dark gaze never leaves the window, his ebony hair falls like a curtain to hide part of his face. His heart beats unrestrained, his throat a knot of anguish, torn to shreds.
He prays and begs in silence, without a sound, without moving, just still, very still.
But... Not all the knowledge he has acquired would help him soothe the pain he has experienced, would not help him understand the pain tearing at his chest, nor would it help with his torn soul at the prospect of an empty nest, a nest that should have been inhabited.
Sour, his smell is so sour it would starve someone of oxygen, he knows it, he might even say it's a smell of death....
No, he's not dead, he feels like he is, but he's not. He's just bleeding out, bleeding and bleeding and bleeding nonstop because they're gone. They're gone.
Why are they gone, where are they, how did it happen?
Shouta didn't care for them, he didn't protect them the way he was supposed to. A fraction of him, that part that is always ruled by logic knows, knows it's not his fault, he was helpless, they were supposed to be safe.
A hospital, an area designated to pro-heroes, replete with security, replete with verification and organization. It wasn't supposed to happen, it wasn't supposed to ever happen.
Everything had gone well, he has arrived with their husbands, their alphas, holding their hands and as they comforted his constant nerves because, they were coming, they were on their way.
And then they were in the room, a lot of pain, a lot of screaming, but they did it. They did it. And they were there, small and helpless, crying non-stop like a troubled little pair who gave the doctors no respite.
Shouta... Oh, Shouta couldn't describe that warmth in his chest, that emotion bubbling in his stomach and the surge of love as the two of them were settled in his arms while he had a sweaty forehead and was breathing in agitation.
The pain, the nerves, the tiredness and anguish were forgotten when they were in his lap, where they belonged, where they fit perfectly while everything was warm and cool at the same time.
He went crazy with love as if for the first time. With giggles and sobs of happiness he had buried his nose in one of them. Tiny locks of ebony-colored hair like his, his nose taking in a milky scent combined with a slight hint of the smell of damp earth and jasmine. He had placed a delicate kiss on the little boy's face, his cheeks painted with a constellation of stars, for, oh, those freckles he once had on his own face as a child and faded with time, and to see them now on that sweet face is simply dazzling. He went to delight in the quiet cooing of the little creature, eliciting a coo of his own pure contentment.
With a swelling heart, he went on to bury his nose in the second, purple hair (like that of his husband's late mother, wonderful woman who was like a mother to him) tickled him, making him snort a restrained laugh, because, are those unruly locks? Maybe he'd have the horrible habits Shouta has with his own hair. He would hum with satisfaction, the sweet milky smell combined with a faint scent of coffee and lavender, oh, he was dead in love, how could his puppies smell so sweet and tender? How dare they completely disarm him with their soft cooing as they sought comfort in his lap? They were his puppies, his sweet, cute and cuddly puppies, who were, are and would be loved madly.
He loved them so much...
"I'm sorry, Aizawa" The doctor's face had been full of regret when she entered his room, only an hour after he had caressed his puppies on the cheeks with his wrist, delicately perfuming them on that soft skin. He had allowed his puppies to go in for a checkup while his husbands kept him company to wait for the okay for discharge.... And he would be the only one getting the discharge.
Shouta had tensed in his bed, because those words were not good, that look did not bode well, the smell of the alpha doctor was sour, causing him to almost growl, but his husbands took his hands, both to reassure him and to keep the three of them grounded. Because it was not good, it did not bode well.
And then the doctor said it, the words left his lips and Shouta screamed.
The scream from his throat was heartbreaking, trying to get out of his bed and pounce on the alpha doctor, because, missing? What do you mean, missing? He would rip his throat out and run to the cribs, because it couldn't be, he had had them in the safety of his arms, his nest was ready and his week free to carry out the printing press, to scent her cubs, to introduce them to the rest of the pack.... Missing? Stolen?
It took his two mates to hold him, for how could they neglect his cubs? How could they have let them take his cubs?
And then it hit so hard, like a strong wave washing over him. He collapsed limply into his husbands arms, and there was no more. Everything was a blur, there was no sense, no direction, and it didn't matter.... It didn't matter because his cubs are gone, stolen.
Outside he hears chaos, but it doesn't matter, his gaze will remain on the window because he has no strength, he can feel it there, in the empty hole in his chest and the tarnished pieces of his soul, his puppies are already far away, torn from his arms.
He is not dead, Shouta knows that, but he is bleeding to death.
No, life is not fair, it is not merciful. It's cruel, it's merciless and it's like.... Like life doesn't get tired of hitting him over and over again.
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She howled in frustration, angry at the rain, because of course it had to be on a stormy day when she had to do this, just her damn luck (or punishment for her actions, because how could she be doing this?).
The whine coming from the grocery cart she stole from a dingy alley forced her to turn her amber gaze to the pair wrapped in plastic around the cart to keep the water from soaking the black and purple duo. The woman's heart pounded in her throat, the claws of regret clawing at her lungs viciously, but she couldn't not do this, not if she wanted her family to live another day, just a little longer. It was cruel, that person's personal issues and pro-hero's was none of his business, but he ended up in the middle and that was fucking bullshit.
The phone rang, leading her to hiss another curse before picking it up and taking the call.
"Got it?" the individual asked in a gruff voice causing her to suddenly shiver (and no, it wasn't from the cold rain).
"I do," she replied without hesitation, trailing off to another blind spot, away from the camera at the next intersection. "That was two," she adds as an afterthought, glancing down once more at the duo snuggled up to each other.
"Well, make sure you get rid of them." Then she froze, blood boiling in her veins and heart in her throat.
"What?" she questioned very quietly, because what the fuck?
"I said, end both of their lives and throw them anywhere, I don't care" He says with great disdain and even mockery that make her nauseous.
"You never- You never told me that's what you'd do, you said it would be a ransom, a payoff!" He gritted his teeth hard, barely leveling his breathing because what the fuck? That hadn't told him, it was a personal vendetta, yes, but it consisted of a kidnapping with ransom demand and safe delivery. The puppies would come back, they were supposed to.
"Do I have to repeat myself?" The threat is there, the deal is easy to break, and she is viciously reminded of it, and her heart plummets to the floor, because it's them or her family, and she? She couldn't sacrifice her family. "Well," he hums satisfied with her silence, knowing the answer to the unspoken question.
And just as that call came it was gone, leaving her blank, in the pouring rain. The sound of police sirens echoed in the distance, just in the direction of the hospital, and she knows she should just get the hell out of there, take care of her job and get on with her life.
But she wasn't a killer, much less one who would murder a couple of helpless puppies. Amber eyes looked back at the pair, her cheeks were wet and for a moment you'd think she was crying, but that wasn't possible and surely rain was involved.
"None of your business."
True, the lives of the pups, the pain of the pro-hero was none of her business, she is doing this for survival, to protect her family.
"Fuck this!" She exclaimed in fury, more tears shedding and not just rain. She activated her quirk once more, helping them disappear from the perception of the individuals on the street and ran, ran and ran with her mind at a million a minute, thinking, trying.
At some point he picked them up in his arms, wrapped them up enough and continued his run to the subway, go farther and farther away from Musutafu, at least as far as possible and follow.
Follow.
Follow.
No matter if her arms are already cramped, if the puppies' cries make her more nervous, if exhaustion numbs her body, she runs and runs to the place in her mind, memories imbued in that place because she once belonged there herself.
On and on and on.
She slowed down in front of the place, totally drenched, watching with her heart pounding and almost hyperventilating from lack of air, but there it was, just as she remembered it. She turned her amber eyes once more to the pair, watching their small figures hiccuping and sobbing from the cold.
"Please don't die of hypothermia, please." She pleads like the hypocrite she is, a cowardly idiot who bows down, but not enough. She runs to the door of the place, lit with a single beacon on its small entrance roof. And she, she squats down and carefully lays them on the cold floor. Both puppies stir in desperation, pulling their arms out of the blankets and beginning to sob louder. Once again she activates her quirk, this time just for herself in case the door opens. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," she tells them from the bottom of her heart, because this will not let her sleep, this will slowly consume her because these cubs were not even taken to their nest, they were not fully scented and they will not know their pack. These little cubs were ripped from warm and loving arms, all because she was a coward.
She looked at the left wrists of each puppy, the plain ribbon with each of their names because at least that will leave them, she will no longer be more heartless than she is being, she can't. "I'm so sorry, Izuku, Hitoshi," she whispers regretfully to them, finally standing up and leaning to the door, where with her hand made into a fist she slammed the door hard at least three times in a row and then turned away.
She runs from there, without looking back as she hears a familiar voice exclaim in anguish while the last thing that will drag her away will be the fierce cries of two newborn puppies.