Y/N nervously fidgeted with her fingers as she sat at the desk. Although she didn't like it, and the police didn't see the need to have to handcuff her, it was still a policy whenever they interrogated anybody. Her wrists chained together and the metal coils around her hands still gave her mild discomfort, but nothing she couldn't handle. Of course, being in this interrogation room didn't help her anxiety, as currently, she couldn't help the level of panic that was going through her head as she tried to calm herself down by focusing on her fingers rather than the persistent and barging thoughts running laps around her mind, the same questions wondering.

The doctor had said that Shota looked different than what she remembered. Did that mean that she was indeed in the future? Or did he mean how much his look changed after... well whatever she had done or was involved in. And also, this meant that he was alive, and that was all that mattered. Well, she still was going to make sure Oboro, Hizashi, and Nemuri were alive as well, but if she was going to be honest, she really just wanted to see Shota again. With so much confusion going around, she needed someone to come around and tell her the truth, and answer all the questions she had. Shota would be the one to do that right? Tell her everything that happened?

She hated the fact that the glass was one-way, she couldn't see who was outside of the room and who would come in. When the doctor told her the news that she'd be able to see Shota again, did that mean he was going to interview as well? Was he like a hero? Did he achieve his goal of being a hero without her? Damn it, if only she could remember. Shota was a hero right? The hero he wanted to be alongside with Present Mic, Midnight, and Loud Cloud right, the Erasure Hero: Eraserhead? And what about her? Was she even included in the agency? How long had she been a villain?

She gulped. What would Shota look like? She doubted he would really change his look, because he always believed things like appearance and fashion were irrelevant and that practicality and effectiveness was much better, sure that Shota still wore only black. She also doubted he lost his notorious eye bags under his eyes, as well as just the same exhausted look. Did he still have long hair? She couldn't imagine him with hair shorter than chin length. How far was she in the future at all? Was Shota like...

She flushed a little bit.

Ripped and stuff...? She looked down at herself. God, she was starved, and she hadn't even realized until right now. There were so many things going around her that she couldn't focus on her stomach. She'd ask the police for a donut or something... and she felt incredibly light... like she hadn't eaten in a long time... there were so many things that she didn't realize had been happening, as she just discovered the dull ache in her shoulders as well as her ankles as she let a groan, rolling her shoulders back, cringing when a pang shot through her. Shit, she was really cold too. Could someone get her a blanket already?

She wondered if Shota felt the same way towards her just as she did for him...

...

What if Shota hated her?

She clenched her hands together at the thought of Shota hating her. Shota had never once acted anything mean or aggressive towards her, maybe having been grumpy or annoyed, but never furious or angry. Shota didn't get angry, he didn't like to express a lot of emotions, or, a lot of extreme emotions. He could be at the peak of happiness and he would just have the smallest grin anyone can see, or he could listen to the funniest joke in the world, and he would just puff out air from his nostrils. He never showed emotions like that.

She didn't want to find out what happened if he was especially angry at her. What if he hated her because of what she had done? Whatever fucked up thing she did, what if he hated her? Wanted nothing to do to her? Wanted her dead. What if he just no longer cared for her anymore?

Her heart shattered at the thought of him turning his back away from her, while she was crouching on the floor, crying and begging him to come back, while she tried to reach her arm out for him, only for him to slap it away from him and mutter some slur or heart-striking insult towards her.

What if Shota hated her?

What if all of this had been for nothing? This hope, this excitement, this eagerness in seeing him again... what if it was all for nothing? What if he didn't want to see her, and would rather punch her in the face more than even have a civil conversation? If Shota turned his back on her...

What was the point?

Why was she even this dependent on Shota? It wasn't like everything evolved around him right? Of course not, if Shota was gone, then he was gone. It wasn't like he controlled her life right? Her life wasn't meant to just be for Shota, right? She couldn't possibly be this lost just because a boy, just because someone she loved, moved on, just because the first person to feel love and affection from someone after years of being lonely had turned away from her, that didn't mean that that was the end? She was just stupid, she was overthinking, just like Shota had always told her.

Shota, Shota, Shota.

It always was him.

She was scared of the fact that she was dependent on Shota, that her heart still longed for him, because she was afraid that he would move on, and that left herself with nothing. She's given so much of herself to him, what if he takes all of that for himself and permanently steals the majority of love she had- to him, rather than herself. No, Shota wouldn't be like that? He wouldn't leave her... right? Because this was Shota she was talking about, the caring, kind, sleepy, and charming Shota. The one who made sure she wasn't the one left behind when there was no space for more people to walk alongside each other. The one who stopped all of her bullies despite having been bullied himself? The only one who accepted her quirk not as villainous? The only one who had inspired her to be a hero? To prove to herself that she wasn't just useless and that she had the right and place to be next to Shota?

Shota wouldn't hate her... right...?

The clicking of the door interrupted her thoughts as her gaze shot up from her scarred hands to the door, which was opening, making her suck in a breath as she prepared herself.

Deep breaths.

The first one to enter was a male wearing a beige trenchcoat, a tailored, cripst white dress shirt and a tie under the outer layer. A matching hat of the same color with a stripe of a darker hue of the same beige across his hat. Milky white gloves on his hands, and jet black trousers and shoes. She could see some bits of his short black hair peeking out of his headwear. Black eyes paired with his appearance told her that this was a detective, or at least, what seemed to be a detective from the TV shows she remembered watching.

The detective gave her a small knowledgeable nod as he stepped forward into the room a bit, before stopping just after the doorway. "Hello. Before we start the interrogation, I just wanted to introduce myself, and my partner, who is going to come in after I make introductions. I heard from the doctor outside that you know him well, or at least, know him well enough. I am Detective Tsukaunchi Naomasa. And just to make sure, my Quirk is Lie Detector, and I can tell if you are lying. Now that, I'm done," the detective turned around. "You can come in." He said, before shifting to the right to free room for the incoming person.

She bit her lip harshly as she remembered the Doctor's words repeat over and over in that one second.

"Would you like to see Aizawa Shota again?"

Was this Shota? Was she finally going to see Shota? She had been so confused and lost all this time, that she was just ready to jump out and hug him despite how he felt or how different he was before. Nothing would be better than just seeing Shota again, with his oh, so ever familiar grumpy and sleepy expression, with the recognizable eyebags. The bed hair that he never bothered to fix. Was she finally able to see all of that again? And maybe... no, it had to be Shota right? There was no doubt- otherwise, he wouldn't have said that she knew him well right ?

At first, all she could see was black as she observed as the figure approaching. Footsteps edging closer as she gulped down a breath of nervousness and excitement down her throat as the figure finally revealed itself. Her breath hitched as her eyes widened.

Long ravenette hair perched on top of his head, and messy and tangled curls from either side of his head, covering his ears and his bangs covering up the majority of his forehead. A stubble and some facial hair sprinkled around his mouth and under his nostrils. A crescent-shaped scar took place underneath his right eye. Exhausted eyes filled with grim sincerity, and what seemed like a scarf over his shoulders and covering his neck and upper shoulders area in gray bandages. Clothed in a completely black suit, consisting of a belt, she could tell this was a pro hero. And she definitely knew who she was.

She whispered it out of her lips in disbelief at first, inaudible, as she continued to gaze at the male in shock, her lips trembling.

Was she imagining this? No, she couldn't be right? This had to be him. So why was he so different? He looked exactly the same, fitting every expertise she had of what he would look like, yet...

He was so different.

"S-Shota?" She stuttered, before realizing she might have assumed the wrong person, but yet, she was very confident that this was her childhood best friend. This was the person she loved, no- love. But he was so... different from how she remembered him. He was no longer one of the shortest males in the class, as he looked about six feet. He matured, he had a beard, longer hair, and strained eyes. The scar was new as well.

How could this be Shota? Was he now a hero now? He looked at least a decade older, maybe two. This was Shota? Did that mean she was about the same age as well? She was only a year younger than him... god, she couldn't wrap her head around that this was Shota.

That she can never have the old Shota again. What if he changed? What if he was no longer the kind and thoughtful Shota he was back then? What if this Shota was now mean and cold towards her? She couldn't imagine it, but the type of gaze that he currently had told her something different. They seemed like stone cold daggers piercing into her soul as she couldn't stop staring back, attracting her further, subconsciously scooching a little closer towards the male, before he said an utterance with his deep and raspy voice.

"Y/N," he replied with parted lips as he stared directly into her eyes, as if searching for something, or studying her, as his eyes travelled across her form.

Y/N...?

He said it with such coldness in his tone, his eyes almost seemed hollow and dull, yet there was something underneath, something that she couldn't quite reach or understood under that tired and stone-like graveness. He clenched his jaw just after he said that, as he continued to survey her from above, a gloomy and intense aura surrounding him, making her want to cower.

Who was Y/N? Was that her? Was that her name? Was that someone else's name? No, it must be her name right? After all, Shota wouldn't call her that right? What if he was implying someone else though?

"W-who?" she stuttered, shrinking a little in her seat as she balled her hands into fists and gripped nervously onto the fabric of her pants. Was this really Shota? The one currently staring at her with an emotionless face? It was different from the past Shota, his fixed expression was one of dejection, but that was just always his front. Shota was happy back then, so why did he currently stare at her with that kind of face?

What had she done?

"That's your name." Shota narrowed his eyes at her, almost as if he was suppressing all of his emotions he felt directed towards her, his whole form tensing a little bit as the detective paced towards the table she sat on, and took one of the two seats across from her, Eraserhead following him and sitting in the only remaining seat in the room.

The stares of them both overwhelmed her, as she looked down at her feet, making her bite her lip as she felt her chest hurt a little. Why was Shota so cold to her? Why couldn't he tell that she was uncomfortable and had no clue what was happening. Couldn't he act at least a little empathetic towards her? There was no softness in his black pits, but she could tell something must have between them, the way that Shota tensed up his jaw like some kind of aggression or precaution against her.

What had she done to Shota?

She bit her lip at the images and imagination that ran through her head, wondering which scenario had made Shota hurt by her. Were they together but she broke up with him? Had she turned her own back at him and left him? Was it the sudden transfer to villainy that left Shota with betrayal and detriment? Was it having to move away which resulted in Shota harbouring loneliness and despisement for her? What horrific mistake had she done to have him like this? The happy and strong Shota suddenly changed into a guarded and cold older version. Appearance wise, he was still quite similar, but there was a sudden change in his personality, like something had suddenly caused him to change drastically, affecting his mentality and emotional state.

Or maybe she was just overthinking and that Shota was still the same as he was.

That was the stupidest thought she ever had, of course it's the initial option. Why would he be like this?

"M-my name..? I-... I c-couldn't remember that... I d-don't remember much..." she mumbled off, avoiding eye contact with Shota as she looked at her arms and crossed them across her chest to lay her forehead on it. The excitement of seeing Shota again leaked out of her after seeing what Shota acted like towards her.

He didn't want anything to do with her. Who would want to deal with someone like her anyways?

She swallowed a gulp as her lips quivered a little.

"What do you remember then?" Shota asked with a gruff voice, his posture stiff as he sat straight up, his fingers intertwined with one another as he brought his chair closer to the table to hear better. He rarely blinked while he observed her, looking over to Tsukaunchi, the detective giving him a nod as he activated his quirk, his eyes turning white.

"I.. I remember... Hizashi... Oboro... Nemuri... you... going to UA..." she whispered. Even though she was reflecting back at the happy memories, she was filled with desolation, wondering if she would ever get the same Shota she had from what she remembered. She couldn't be happy at the memories they created, because there was a doubt in her mind that with Shota right now, she couldn't recreate the same joy she earned from their school life. She wondered if Shota could even remember them, as she could remember them vividly, but he must have forgotten most, if not, all...

Tsukaunchi stayed silent, his eyes were now a milky chocolate brown, and after she finished talking, his eyes faded back into white pits.

"What else?"

Y/N took in a deep breath. "My... my mum... my step-father... I-..." she couldn't continue any longer, finding herself yet again, at a loss of words to further describe who else she could remember.

Shota nodded, looking over to Tsukaunchi, who sent a mutual nod back.

"What do you remember about some of the people you've just mentioned?"

"Well... we were friends I guess... went to the same school at UA together... how happy I felt around you guys..." She was desperately trying to evade out of his gaze, but she could feel the intensitivity of his glance as he was burrowing holes through her head from the way he observed her.

"Do you..." he seemed to have stopped, hesitating on what he was about to say next as he tensed his jaw again, the arm splayed across the table was clenching its fist, as his breath hitched. His lip quivered a bit making Y/N grew nervous as she wanted to reach out to comfort him. Whatever he was going to ask next must be really pushing him out of his comfort, and that made her anxiety grow larger than the monster it had already become inside of her, almost taking over her lungs, and her fingers. What was Shota going to ask?

Despite the unease she was at, she reluctantly looked up to meet his eyes, giving him a reluctant and reassuring nod, as his eyes widened a bit, before quickly narrowing and tilting his head down from her. This made her pout a little bit, but she knew that he understood what she was trying to say, and that she was somewhat glad he looked to her for guidance and reassurance. For once since she's met, she saw through a crack of his armor and saw a bit of Shota that she knew had always been inside of him. The Shota who smiled at her with kind, gentle eyes with the same tender feeling when being in his arms. That assured her that he was still there, somewhat, before he quickly changed into his indifferent and composed persona.

If some bit of the old Shota was still there... what had happened?

He opened his lips again. "Do you... remember how you died...?"

She died?

"I-I-... what?" She questioned again as she placed a hand over her chest, feeling that her heart was still beating, looking down as if she didn't believe the beats she felt through her hand, hearing it drum through her eardrums as it grew louder and louder.

When did she die?

How was that possible? People couldn't... come back after they've died right? That just wasn't possible, of course it wasn't, people just can't come back from the dead. Even at the era of quirks, it was impossible to revive the dead, it was absolutely absurd and inhumane to want to force life into one's body once they've drifted to another place? Yet, it seemed to have happened, because here she was. Hearing her heart pounding in her chest as she stood frozen in front of her childhood best friend and lover. This must be some crazy dream right? Yes, of course, that filled in all of the blanks. All of this had to be a crazy ass dream and she's just in bed about to be late to school and she had to wake up somehow or that alarm clock will wake her up with it's painfully loud ass ringtone.

Right...?

How did she die?

Flashes.

Flashes of different memories, of trying to breathe, of crying, trying to apologize, losing air. How she gripped her neck tightly as she resisted the urge to breath. Wetness covering her cheeks and stuttering and broken phrases rolling off her tongue.

"S-so...r...y... S-sho...a..."

Tears began to develop in her eyes as she shook in her seat.

'Sorry Sho. Guess you didn't want me around.'

Her hands gripped onto the edge of her chair firmly, her entire form trembling and twitching, her knuckles turning white.

'Why'd you leave me?'

A tear rolled down her cheek.

'I just wanted to be happy.'

"I-... I d-died...?"

The answer was clear, but she wanted to hear it from Shota himself. She wanted to deny it, she couldn't have done it... right? Was that why she couldn't remember anything? Even if that was the reason, there was no explanation of how she was still alive if she did really die. How did she die? She needed to know how her life ended, how she could afford her life ending and leaving Shota's side forever, how she could have just stopped trying to achieve her goal. Did she throw her life away? Why was she given a second chance? Whatever happened in her second chance? Was that when she committed all of these crimes?

Endless questions raced through, filling her brain to the brim with so much of these inquiries that needed answers immediately, the desperation, the need. The urgency to know what happened to her and explain why she was in this type of situation.

"Y-yes. You died Y/N," Shota answered, swallowing a visible gulp down his throat. That was the first time she ever heard Shota stutter in a sentence. Never in his life had he ever stuttered. The detective looked to his side and patted his shoulder for consolation, which had helped none so ever, before looking at her, making her feel even guiltier.

To what extent did she hurt Shota?

This must be why Shota had been acting like this. Had her death really affected him this much? How long ago did she die to have caused such a huge impact?

"S-shota... p-please t-tell me how... tell me... h-how I died..."

Tell her that she died of a natural death. Tell her that she died like a hero. Tell her that she died of food poisoning. Anything, but what she was thinking of right now. Tell her that she was wrong.

Were those tears in his eyes?

"Y/N..." he sucked in a breath. "You killed yourself."

She froze immediately as her eyes widened, her body parazlyed in the seat as she stared in shock at the ravennette male.

She committed... suicide...? Why?

"Y-you're lying Sho... I-I... w-why would I h-have..." she murmured as she tried to search an answer from his expression.

All she could see was the guilt in his eyes.

"S-shota...?"

Shota remained silent, his head tilting down, the shadow from his hair hiding his eyes, as Detective Tsukauchi placed a firm hold on Shota's shoulder, squeezing it tightly as he gave a slight nod to Shota. "I will be continuing the interrogation, please pay no mind to Eraserhead."

So he really is a hero.

Y/N nodded bitterly, as she spared one more glance at Shota, her chest prickling her as it seemed like her beating organ was completely fractured at the sight. She didn't know what type of hero 'Eraserhead' was, but from the looks that the detective gave him, Tsukaunchi must have known him well, or highly respected him as a hero, not a single judgeful glance at the hero. Shota must have been a strong-minded and serious hero, seeing him like this...

Seeing Shota like this...

It utterly broke her, as it fragmented her view of heroes. Heroes aren't perfect. They were human beings, they were still functional and emotional people with weakness and vulnerabilities. All she saw Shota as was Shota, while others saw him as the 'Eraserhead.' Well known or not, he promised to only be a hero without the selfish motivations of fame, money, or reputation, that was what made him strong. That was what made him as a hero, strong. He had nothing to lose, yet that's why he fights so hard, because that's how heroes are supposed to fight like. Why did it have to be any three of those to have motivated them to fight for the betterment of people and society?

Because people aren't aware of how weak heroes can be. Only people who really knew Eraserhead, saw the flaws in other popular, notable heroes out there. That they weren't perfect heroes.

Which resulted in breakdowns for the mentally strong heroes, such as Eraserhead.

Nothing is ever worse than seeing a hero cry, because that's when everybody starts to lose hope. For themselves, and everything relating to them. She knew that, which was why she swore to be a hero for Shota and others, when they were at their worst, to support them, even when she was never known or heard by another. So when heroes grew weak, she could also help them be at their strongest.

She wanted to be a hero so she can never see Shota cry.

"Shota... d-don't cry..." she whispered out to him, before glancing at Tsukauchi concerningly. Shota's body twitched at her words, before he shook his head violently, clenching his fists tightly as he raised his arm over his upper half of his face so she couldn't see his eyes, while his mouth was left agape.

"Ms. Y/N," the other male called out kindly. "He'll be fine," he said with an assured face. Y/N swallowed a gulp and nodded, turning her head to face Tsukauchi, and ignoring the temptation to face Shota and check up on him if he was okay.

"According to Eraserhead and your files, your death was confirmed as a suicide. Do you remember how you are alive right now?"

"No... I don't know how... I-I should b-be dead... right...?"

"Yes." Tsukauchi's eyes turned brown then faded back to white. "Okay, do you remember anything else? That hasn't happened before the time you died supposedly?"

"... I-I remember a m-man... blue hair... red eyes... tall and scary..." she mumbled, shuddering at the memory of the man, as she wrapped her hands around herself.

"Shigaraki?"

Shigaraki? That was his name?

"I-... I suppose s-so... I d-didn't r-remember his name..."

"Can you describe any other details about him?"

Y/N shook her head 'no,' before exhaling depressedly. "I'm sorry... I-I h-haven't been v-very helpful here..."

"It's fine, don't worry. Are you aware of the League of Villains?"

The League of Villains? Shigaraki? Was she a part of this group? Was Shigaraki a member of this group?

Blood. Yelling. Fire. Pain. Swords. Pain. All For One? Kuro... giri...? Da...bi? Toga...?

Why was she suddenly remembering all of this?

A/N: was motivated at the beginning just decided to slap a part 2 because I didn't feel like writing more. Ooof. Hope you guys like it :D