Aizawa yawned loudly as he sat back in his chair, before reaching out for the thermostat cup, bringing the ridge to his lips and tipping the container as he sipped his coffee. He sighed deeply, already worn out from just announcing the obstacle race and the cavalry battle, before standing up and heading to exit the announcer room, going back to the teacher's lounge in the main building. It was a long, lonely walk, passing by a large crowd of viewers that buzzed excitedly, predicting who would win the tournament and such. He could help but have his ears perk up at the mention of his students.

"That icy kid is probably gonna win! The green hair dude, he's smart and stuff, but we haven't even seen his quirk!"

"I don't know about that, I feel like the explosive, angry child is gonna win, he looks like he's gonna kill everyone. What was his name... Bakugou? Dude, that kid looks like he'll murder them. I wouldn't be surprised if he did win!"

"No way, my daughter is going to win! Have you seen her during the cavalry battle?"

He shook his head and continued to walk past the group of murmuring adults. He didn't understand the concept of betting, of course, something would be 'bet' on, which was more like predicting something, and though optional but usually the case, money is laid down for if the predicament is correct. He didn't understand how people found entertainment or satisfaction from winning one, well, he could see if money was involved, but otherwise, he didn't understand.

People were always irrational, sadly that was the reality he lived in.

As he reached the room, he took his lunch, which was more like a snack with a juice pouch, and ate quietly as he lazily strode in the lounge's couch. Flashbacks hit him as he thought about the last time he participated in the Sports Festival, as a student. He remembered the thrill and the adrenaline it brought, the new allies and foes he made as he competed.

The cheering of the crowd and the excitable yet nervous boulder pressed on his chest and shoulders. The first year he competed was a tag game, but a different and altered kind that was able to maintain a large number of children. The victor of that game would have to have been tagged the least amount of times. Twenty people were always chosen as taggers, and the role of who took the role of one had to tag other people, this was determined by the custom-made PE suits for that. Quirks were used to either attack or defend, and he found himself just barely being able to pass that phase, he was in the thirtieth out of the fortieth people that could move on to the next game.

The next game was a form of capture the flag. Similar to this years' cavalry battle game, the students were allowed to make up groups of 4 and each one had a flag they had to defend. Grabbing other team's flags, each flag gave the holder a various amount of points, dependent on their placement from the tag game. The top three times that had the most points at the end would carry on into the annual finals where it would be a one-on-one fight with the ones that he remained. Surprisingly, in all of his years, he was able to make it to the finals, and in his second year, he was able to be in third place.

He remembered all the little details, but he could never forget Y/N's cheering. Her voice, although was mangled, to him, it was clear and distinct to him, it was only between the two of them. The way she strained her voice, yelling for him to win and take the top, something about that filled with a confidence and strength he didn't even know he had. It gave him the need to impress and to meet her expectations, and even when he didn't and came home empty-handed, she was still somehow prideful of her best friend, an anti-social and boring person as he was, she wasn't afraid to show off that she was friends with the Eraserhead.

But in his third year, even without the support or help from Y/N, he still had managed to make it in the finals. He told himself that even when Y/N wasn't there, she would be there in his heart, as cliche as it sounded. Yet, he still remembered the feeling of exhaustion and the feeling of dissatisfaction all those years ago, and those feelings were still present today. He was tired of living honestly, dissatisfied with the way his life is like, but he had no plans on dying so soon, after all, even if living was something he couldn't have faith in, even death he couldn't have faith in. These feelings mingled into the emptiness he felt in his heart, and the huge, gaping hole in his heart desperate to be filled. He wasn't trying to be in the top, he wasn't trying to even compete. Yet, he still managed to get in the finals.

Sensoji was his first opponent to fight, he reminded him of the explosive student he had trouble taming, their personalities and egotistical issues were one-in-one. His Quirk was similar to, recalling that his Quirk was 'Blast.' Aizawa used to be especially eager for combat-related exercises and activities, but the absence of Y/N had made him the living husk he was back then. As soon as the round started, Sensoji rushed at him, throwing his fists around. He didn't quite remember what he did, but he did stand there, and was able to avoid his fists entirely, using as minimal energy and movement. Sensoji didn't use his quirk the entire time, knowing he could erase it, showing how much of an idiot he was. Nevertheless, he lost because he got bored and walked out of bounds.

He was sure the results would have been different if his number one supporter was there. He felt worthless- powerless and unmotivated- to do anything without her by his side. He hadn't noticed what it was like to be without Y/N, and when he had a taste of that, it was hell, simply. He didn't know how to live anymore when the girl that meant the world to him was gone. He started realizing things he didn't know were true a long time ago, and it was that everything he did involved or orbited around her. Everyday tasks became difficult, such as eating or doing school work, not when all he could do was sulk around and think about Y/N.

Useless. Not enough. Never enough. Weak. Can't be a hero. Powerless.

Shaking his head to get rid of the self-degrading thoughts, finishing his lunch then getting back up. Striding across the streets to the arena, he was greeted by Hizashi, who was currently having a bipolar mood. It was rare for someone like him who was always positive and lively, to go from that to immediate sincerity.

"Shota."

"Yes, do you need something?" the ravennette asked, curiously and annoyed.

Normally when Hizashi would want to rant or annoy him, he would do purposely, not caring or hesitating to do just that to him. He wasn't sure how he tolerated him, as he was constantly running his mouth around, but when it came to this, it was definitely something else. Hizashi never cared much or was hardly serious for the most part, other than his career as a teacher and a hero. He ever cared about the past or the present, and what Aizawa did in either of those, but when there was something that intrigued and bothered Aizawa, but as a best friend -annoyingly- he would keep hoarding him and persisting for him to share. Of course, his walls were high and guarded, and barely was impenetrable by anyone. Sometimes, Hizashi was able to break through, but other times, he was allowed to keep to himself. It was just the same that it was with the two of them.

"Why are you still hung up on Y/N? Did something happen between you two, before, y'know..." he questioned.

"Hizashi, how much times do I have to say-"

"Then I'll match that many times with how many times I ask. Shota, this is important. This is your past. This is what is holding you back!" Hizashi tried reasoning with him.

He knew he was lying about Y/N, but he wasn't exactly sure what. Was it something that he did to her? Was it something he said? He had no clue, and he couldn't lay a figure on what could have happened. Shota was a well-guarded and armored person, who stubbornly refused what he felt. Hizashi has seen it before numerous amounts of time, where stress and emotions would build up inside the erasure hero. Those pent-up and bottling feelings were self-destructive and took a bigger toll on him more than Shota could imagine. He was a hero, yes, a person who never allowed someone close to him, but he was no more vulnerable than everybody else. He had self-harming thoughts towards himself, in which he had little to no confidence in himself, with only desperation rather than confidence helping him in his career. Shota was a man who didn't like change, but he still doesn't know how much he's changed from that day he told the news.

He was angry- no- furious that Shota was lying to him, but he knew he had his reasons. Feelings and emotions, or simply just himself, is the most dangerous weapon towards himself, and he knows that. He's afraid to show them, he's afraid to allow them to control him, which is why whenever his heart longed for something, he locked up his heart, and threw away the key. Everytime he desired something, he would secure it even more to make sure he didn't come back wanting. Instead of ever following his heart, he would use his brain and logistics more, solely relying on them. He never allowed her to show that he cared for him or Nemuri, or the students because he was afraid for the very reason he lost Y/N.

He lost Y/N, and he quoted "because my emotions took over me." That was the reason why. Hizashi knew he deserved at least an explanation, but with these emotions that Aizawa was feeling, he didn't have the courage to tell him about it. Hizashi, observant of that and having taken notice of, allowed himself to do this for years. But now, fifteen years later, was too long, and it was time that he needed to share. All of these feelings built up over the years will surely explode, the thin line of his sanity would surely snap like that, and who knows what he could lose from that.

Before he had to receive an answer, he had to save him first, save him from himself.

"It isn't holding me back," he muttered quietly. He wanted to yell at the top of his lungs just to prove his point that it wasn't holding him back, that it wasn't his weakness, to convince him to leave him the hell alone. It infuriated him that he could think that despite everything. "Why would you say that?"

"Shota, I'm just trying to help you-"

"Thanks, but there isn't anything I need help with. Much appreciation, now can we stop talking now?" Aizawa urged, cursing to himself. This wasn't helping him at all, this was only adding more fuel to the fire, why couldn't he see that? Why couldn't he just leave him the hell alone? He never asked for help, if he did, he would rather do anything but that.

"Sho-"

"The finals are about to start," he quickly interrupted, looking at the time from his cellphone.

"Oh... yeah, okay," Hizashi turned before preparing his throat for another round of announcing.

A/N: We all know Sho is lying when he said Y/N is holding him back.

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