Over and Over and Over Again
Previously….
The days..weeks..months… had started to blur together; each one uneventful, the same people, the same conversations, the constant masking of every irritation, frustration, inexplicable anger, and at the same time, complete numbness, underneath the surface. Hizashi would open his eyes and wait for his morning alarm to go off, countless nights of restlessness with nightmares from his childhood creeping behind his closed lids. Everyday he would turn off his alarm, get up and go to the bathroom to get ready. Keeping up appearances is a must, otherwise Shota and Nemuri start to ask questions that his thin patience can’t handle.
Mornings didn’t used to be an effort before; having to get up, play and sing along to some tunes as he would head to the bathroom to do his hair, apply makeup, make breakfast, check his schedule for the day ahead, skim through what he had going on for the rest of week, check his phone for any messages from friends… the list goes on. However, these are now decidedly silent as he leaves his hearing aids on the entryway table the moment he enters his apartment after whatever shift he ends with the previous night, or in some cases, the early hours of the morning, only to be put back in as he leaves for the day. Sound has become too much for him. Ironic for the Voice Hero.
---
Yesterday was Friday, so he was up late, or early, due to his radio host job for Put Your Hands Up Radio. Out of his 3 jobs, this was his favorite due to being the only one in the studio for hours and not having to worry about keeping up physical appearances due to his shift of 9pm-2am. No one was ever in the building, as he told the janitor that he could clean up his studio after himself. He knew all the songs, the hits, classics, indies, folk, alternative, you name it. Usually about 3-4 songs could play in a row before he had to briefly interact with his audience, with an hour for his show, and 30 minutes to an hour for questions/ audience callers. His other two jobs required too many people interacting face to face, constantly being watched and scrutinized, every little action has at least one other pair of eyes and/or ears watching, listening.
This last show had been exhilarating, which is something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He didn’t recognize the emotion at first, thinking that it was a strange variant of a panic attack that was bubbling to the surface. It was after he started to find himself silently nodding along and becoming giddy that he realized what he was feeling was excitement.
A man had called in anonymously during his Talk About Anything segment talking about pro heroes and that their real job is to act as government pawns. A facade to do illegal business in the shadows, and on the rare occasion that they are caught, it can be brushed aside as ‘doing their duty to saving the public’ or on some occasions, the framing and downfall of the Pro Hero pawn. How it wasn’t so long ago that the people were in charge and free to use their quirks to help towards the betterment of society as a people, not restricted by the government. Not everyone was on board for ‘pro heroes’ and quirk regulations and Hero Society, and where are those people now? Either confirmed dead or have been missing for some time and are presumed dead, all cover ups for the Hero Commission and others like them. There was a pro hero gone traitor that the caller had brought up named Lady Nagant. It was explained how she was one of the best heroes out there and was a beacon of hope for the new society, yet so suddenly, she was being hauled away to Tartarus for being a traitor. The man mentioned how there have been several groups and organizations that have formed to combat the Hero Society, and just as fast as they form, most are crushed.
Hizashi’s heart was beating fast as he continued to listen, catching on to the slight inflection of the word most. All he could really do was listen to the man speak as he was too nervous, too cautious, to say anything of value or lead on to how much he agreed with a lot of what the man was saying. Too many ears listening in; people in power that could make him disappear too if they wanted. Raising red flags to the Hero Commission was definitely something that he did not want. Besides with a few injections of ‘how interesting,’ ‘what a unique perspective,’ ‘I would have never thought of that,’ and a few other fillers, the show came to an end. However, it was all Hizashi could think about on his way home.
---
Hizashi laid on his side, eyes open, staring at the direction of his phone lying face up on the edge of his bed. It’s Saturday and his 8am alarm was about to go off, letting him know that he has an hour to get ready and head to his Hero Patrol shift. As he continued to blankly stare into space, his phone started flashing many different colors in an alternating light pattern matching the vibrations that were shaking the whole bed. He groaned--another sleepless night. He reached to turn off the alarm as he swung his legs off the bed and sat up. Reaching towards his night stand, he grabbed his medication bottles, Adderall and Wellbutrin, noticing again that one was empty. ‘Shit’. He grabbed his water to wash the singular pill down.
He thought to himself, ‘this is my third day without my Adderall. I need to remember to pick up my refill today. Again.’ Irritation already leaking into his morning. He headed to the bathroom to get ready, repeating to himself ‘adderall adderall adderall adderall adderall’ over and over and over again in hopes of remembering what he needed to do, hoping this time that it would work.
It’s 8:57am by the time he walked out the door, 2 cups of coffee down, 1 extra cup for the road, his granola bar for lunch stuffed in his back pocket, hearing aids in and turned on, and phone in hand as he checked any messages that needed his immediate attention while he walked to work.
Nem
Plans for Saturday night? Told Sho that you already agreed to go out and you’re the only reason he agreed. So the correct and only answer is Yes let’s go!
Sent Friday 4:37pm
Nem
I just listened in at the wrong time in your show when I got up for some water. That person who called in talking about pro hero conspiracies was c r a z y! Might see you later today, but if not, definitely see you tonight or else!
Sent Saturday 1:43am
Sho
Did you actually agree to Nemuri’s plan of going out tomorrow night or did I do something to piss her off?
Sent Friday 5:02pm
He sighed, knowing that there are only so many times that he can decline his friends without them starting to think something was up, and he was out of excuses this time around. Instead of texting both of them separately, which involved way too much energy, Hizashi opened the group message between all 3 of them.
Zashi
According to The Socialization Compromise of 20XX, the time frame for dancing tonight is 9pm to 1am. I’ll get us past the line at Beats and a VIP table. Let’s gooooo! 🕺🕺
Sent Saturday 9:02am
Sho
I can’t believe I agreed as late as 1am for social events. That’s too much human interaction for how early in the morning it is.
Sent Saturday 9:08am
Nem
And I can’t believe I agreed as early as 9pm. Two can play at that game, spoilsport 😘
Sent Saturday 9:12am
After receiving responses from both, Hizashi put his phone away in his remaining empty back pocket. His patrol check-in spot wasn’t too far away and only took 20 minutes to walk there at a normal pace. From there, he would be briefed on new activities going on in the area he was assigned to that day that would be any cause for concern. Today, he was assigned to the Business District, which he found odd as he’s not usually assigned there. His usual districts are more shopping and tourist areas, due to his status of being a minor celebrity and Pro Hero. If there’s ever any concern or danger, most of the time, people find him approachable and have no issues coming to him to ask for help.
---
The streets and sidewalks were bustling with the business class headed to and from lunch. It’s been a mostly uneventful day--a few minor traffic incidents, a lost dog wandering around, and the most thrilling, attempted petty theft of a small coffee and muffin stand. Hizashi was bored… He already walked the streets countless times, weaved in and out of the alleyways, stopped by a few businesses to check in, and nothing was out of the ordinary. Right now he was on the roof of one of the smaller buildings--about 7 floors in total--sitting on the edge with one leg dangling off and the other tucked in under him. He had turned his hearing aids off about 10 minutes ago so that he could enjoy his time up there in solitude. He slowly gave a half assed look around down below to ensure that people were still moving about their day, and surprise, everything was still just the same. Hizashi closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath and slowly started to release it. He found that doing this a few times helped him to alleviate a lot of his pent up emotions and energy, but lately it hadn’t been working.
After a few minutes of his breathing techniques, he opened his eyes and glanced down again, this time he was shocked by a head of bright blue hair that stuck up in a crazy, wild fashion that could only belong to one person. He blinks and rubs his eyes roughly, he looks harder down below at the person rushing past people beside him. Logically he knows it’s not him. It would never be him, but nonetheless he continued to look harder. This was a man, too tall, too old, too serious, to ever be Oboro. Oboro was dead, many many years dead and gone, only alive in his constant nightmares. Only alive in his constant guilt.
As he sits back into his previous position, he pulls out his granola bar and rips it open. After taking a bite, he senses that he’s being watched from behind. Acting like he didn’t notice the presence of another person, he started swinging his dangling leg and pretended to take another bite of his lunch. Thankful that he already had his aids switched off, he swung around and prepared to use his quirk as needed if the presence became violent. When he turned around, he saw Eraserhead with his arms crossed against his chest, eyes closed, leaning against the door that led to the building's stairwell.
Shouldn’t you have your hearing aids on during patrol? Aizawa signs.
Lunch break. He signed back.
Eraserhead pulled away from the door and walked to the edge where Mic was just sitting and looking down. What did you see down there? Eraser asked.
Mic hid his shock. How long were you standing there for? I saw unkempt blue hair and my mind wandered…
Shota knew exactly what he meant. Sho’s eyes softened as he looked at the blond. He knew that Zashi had been having a hard time recently this past year, but anytime Sho had tried to help, he only seemed to push Zashi further away. Trying to change the subject he responded, Long enough for a sneak attack. Lucky you’re not a villain. I could have had you in record time. He smirked over at Hizashi teasingly by trying to get a rise out of him so that Zashi could move forward and not dwell on his negative emotions.
Hizashi weakly smiled over at Shota, knowing he was trying to change the subject. Oboro Shirikumo was a topic that no one ever wanted to talk about.
Nice try, Eraser. I knew you were there. I don’t need my hearing to know that someone is watching me. He smirked towards his friend. You’d only catch me if I wanted to be caught.
Shota gave a small smile, Believe whatever will help you sleep at night, Mic. Aizawa tapped his own ears, signaling that Mic should turn his back on, so he did.
Shota spoke, “I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer. Or you were ignoring me.” He shrugged his shoulders while saying that last part.
Hizashi frantically started to pat his body for where his phone could be, and felt it in his back pocket. He pulled it out and noticed 2 missed calls and 3 texts from Sho.
“Ahhhh I’m sorry, man. I must not have felt it going off! It wasn’t intentional!” Hizashi spoke, shrugging apologetically and giving Shota a sheepish smile. He meant it too. He had no idea that his phone was going off, otherwise he would have answered it so that this exact situation wouldn’t come up.
‘Damn,’ Hizashi thought, ‘I need to get my shit together. Stop getting distracted! Focus! I just need to play it cool and he’ll head back to his sector. I need to act better tonight so that he can see that there’s nothing to worry about and that everything is fine and that he doesn’t need to worry and then he won’t have any reason to tell Nemur- WAIT! Did he already tell her when he couldn’t get ahold of me?? No I can’t have that! I-’
“-think that toni-”
“Did you tell Midnight that you couldn’t get ahold of me?” He blurted out, unaware that Shota was talking to him this whole time, and for the life of him, could not repeat what Shota was talking about. “Sorry… I just thought that I should text her or something to let her know that you found me and all is good, in case you did message her or something…” he trailed off.
Aizawa sighs, “No, I didn’t message her. I was going to try to find you first before I did. You know how she worries.”
“Hahaha… ya… she does get pretty worked up over us.” Hizashi tries to play it off and scratches the back of his head. “Were you going to, umm, say something about tonight?”
“I was asking if you’re sure that you’re ok to come out tonight? I know you were up late last night for the studio and that you have another patrol shift tomorrow morning. Also,” Shota paused, really looking at his friend before asking his next question, “I’ve been hearing some of the kids saying that they still haven’t gotten their English exams back from almost 2 weeks ago. Do you need some help? I could do it for you if you need to catch up on other things or sleep or anything. It’s close to the end of the school year, so this time is always hectic for us teachers.”
‘Shit.’ He forgot about the stupid English exams in his teaching bag.
“Nahh, I already got those graded,” he lied. “It took me a while because some of them were just that bad. I’ve been planning a little bit of extra homework around the areas that most of the kids missed so that they can get some extra practice in. Thanks for the offer though!”
Shota was just about to say something else when a scream echoed from the streets below. Both of the Pro Heroes turn to where the scream came from and start running. Using his scarf, Eraserhead swung down below, whereas Present Mic used the buildings and fire escapes to parkour down. Once they were both on the ground, searching for where the scream could have originated, they saw a group of young women embracing each other and making very loud squeals of excitement amongst each other.
“False alarm, I guess,” Mic said to Eraser. “Well, I guess, I better get back to patrolling and shouldn’t keep you too long out of your sector.” He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant but really just wanted to be alone again. “See you tonight?”
Eraserhead looked at Present Mic intently for a few seconds, then sighed, looking down. “Alright,” he grumbled, “I’ll see you later tonight, unfortunately. I swear that woman is trying to kill me.” Eraserhead turned and started to leave, giving a small wave, “Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will. Later, buddy!” Mic waved him off. He headed out and started to walk the streets, patrolling, for a few minutes, and after making sure that Aizawa really did leave, he let out a deep breath.
‘Thank god. Maybe I really am losing it.’ He thinks letting out another sigh. ‘Maybe I should actually tell my therapist the truth and that I need hel-’ Mic’s train of thought was broken by quick movement in the shadow of an alley ahead of him. He put his headphones on and dipped into the closest alley next to him and using the building around him, Mic stealthily jumped from building to building until he could peer down into the one with suspicious activity. He saw nothing. The only movement coming from a few rats scurrying about in the left over trash bins.
He suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder and whipped around only to find that there was no one there. He started to reach out to see if he could make contact with anything that could be there, but all he could grasp was air.
“I just want to talk,” a man’s voice said next to him. Mic swung around again only to find once more that there was no one there. He tried to focus to see if he could possibly feel any presence around him, but before he could concentrate too much, he felt his headphones get ripped off his head and tossed to the side. Now he was pissed. Whoever this was, was toying with him.
“Think you could calm down enough to listen?” There was the voice again, but this time right in his ear. Mic swung his arms, but they still didn't come in contact with anything. “Oh coooome ooonnnn,” the voice dragged out, “You might like what I have to say, Hizashi Yamada. Present Mic. Teacher at UA High, radio host, pro hero, sometimes DJ… the list goes on… Don’t you ever get tired?”
“Who are you?!!” The voice kept moving around and Mic couldn’t seem to ever reach it. His temper was getting the better of him now and all focus and thought of reason was out the window. “How do you know my name?!” he yelled out to the air.
“We know many things. Knowing your name should be the least of your worries. My my… look at how quickly you got upset. The fact you’ve held on for this long is a miracle.”
Mic was breathing hard from running around trying to find where the voice was coming from. “Who is ‘we’? You wanna talk? Show yourself!”
“We are an organization that has built and grown, despite most others like ours. We are by far the most successful. And we are very much interested in you.”
Mic stopped, catching on to the voice inflection of most once again, just like from his show last night. He shook his head. The voice doesn’t belong to the same man as last night and many people emphasize words when they speak. It’s just a coincidence.
“I can see it in your face. It was there for a brief moment, but you talked yourself out of it, didn’t you? I’m surprised you even caught on to my hint in the first place. The boss was right with how fast you’d catch on and how smart you are. After all, we’ve been watching you for a while.”
By this point, Mic had composed himself. He was right then, about this having to do something about last night’s show. “You wanna talk? Fine. Let’s talk.”
Seeing how the Pro Hero had recomposed himself, the mystery man slowly started to unveil himself from his invisibility quirk. His eyes never left the face of Present Mic. He needed to make sure that the hero wouldn’t lash out at him suddenly because he knew he was no match. He could see the mixture of emotions that that hero had swirling around in him and understood them himself all too well, and knowing the slightest movement could unleash everything.
The man that revealed himself was an average looking guy. Shaggy brown hair, a nice, but not expensive, white button up shirt tucked into some black slacks. He looked like any other man in the business district going about their work day. The man slowly raised his hands in show of surrender, every movement calculated to show that he was no threat.
“I was in a similar situation like you once.” the man started to say. “I was angry and frustrated and every little thing pissed me off, even the things that used to make me feel happy. I felt like I was spiraling and that there was nowhere to go and no one who could help me because no one actually knew how I was feeling. I tried to talk to my friends, but… by the end of it, it felt like they only just wanted me to say that I would do better and that everything would be fine, because that’s how they wanted me to be. They didn’t care how I actually felt, just wanted me to go back to being happy and normal. And I tried. I tried so hard, but nothing worked, it only kept making things worse. And then I snapped. It was… a disaster. I had nowhere to go, I was so lost mentally and emotionally and everything was closing in on me and then… They showed up and helped me. They told me about their organization and what they stood for and how they are trying to help the average person get away from the bullshit and tyranny of the government. I was skeptical at first, but I’ve seen how their actions help others with my own eyes and I think that you could really use their help. The only thing in return, is that you help them too. Help us help others. You want to help out the people, don’t you?”
Throughout the man’s speech, he slowly started to put his hands down and cautiously walk closer to Mic. Whereas Mic, listening to everything the man was saying, started to droop his shoulders, his entire face had gone blank. Hizashi didn’t realize it, but at some point, a single tear slid down his cheek. How could this stranger know exactly what he was feeling? How was he able to put it into words so easily? Hizashi was absolutely dumbfounded at how accurately this man had put his entire being from this past year into a few sentences.
“Who…who are you?” Mic was hardly able to get the question out. The man smiled gently, reached out, and placed his hand on the side of Present Mic’s arm.
“Who I am is not important. Who you’re looking for, all the answers you seek, is the MLA. The Metahuman Liberation Army. They can help you. We can help you.”
Mic stands there for a moment then shakes his head, his face hardening. “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t relate to anything that you just said.” He needed to get away from here. This was a trap of some sorts, and yet, everything that this man had said showed nothing but sincerity. “Now leave, before I arrest you as an accomplice of a terrorist organization.” Mic turned and started to walk away, which quickly turned into a full on sprint across the roofs of the buildings of the business district.
His patrol shift ended with no other hiccups and nothing to report to his supervisors. He thought, for a brief moment, to report what had occurred on that rooftop, as the pieces clicked together about the encounter and how he had just randomly been assigned the business district as this man, this group, wanted to get in contact with him. This was purposeful. Whoever these people were, were able to influence or change his patrol shift. Something in him told him to keep it secret though. Part of him wanted to stay on the rooftop and continue to listen and see what path he could get led down, but then his hero training indoctrination kicked in and took over as a reflex.
---
Hizashi was back at home again, sitting in the living room with his teacher’s papers out, grading the stupid exams that the kids took over a week ago. He had to get these done like he told Shota he had already, especially since he made up more work for himself in needing to make an extra homework assignment based off this test. With everything on his mind, it was becoming so hard to focus on the papers in front of him. He may be able to turn his ears off so that any outside noise wouldn’t bother him, but the constant noise coming from his brain just wouldn’t shut up.
By the time he was half way through grading the exams, he had had 2 glasses of whiskey, 3 snacks, and gotten half way through the dirty dishes until he found a stain on his shirt. He had to stop to go start a load of laundry, remembering that he was supposed to be going out tonight and that he needed to charge his phone, another 5 papers graded, and then the laundry was done and he had to start getting ready to go out.
He took a cold shower in hopes of collecting his thoughts and to rush him along so that he wouldn’t be late by spending hours in the shower. After his hair was blow dried, he threw the top half up into a messy bun, leaving some front strands down with the rest of his hair. He applied some makeup to cover his never ending eye bags, eyeshadow to brighten up around his eyes, and a small amount of blush to try to liven up his cheeks. He went to his closet and pulled out some tight black jeans with a few rips down the legs and a dark blue button up shirt that had small gold accents swirled around it. He tucked his shirt in and buttoned up, leaving the top 3 undone. He grabbed a pair of sleek black glasses, slipped on some black dress shoes, put on a few gold necklaces and rings, and headed out the door.
He pulled up to the front of the night club Beats in his blue mustang, the valet quickly running towards him.
“Mr. Mic, sir! Welcome! Would you like the usual?” one of the valet boys asked.
Mic flashed a big smile, “Ya got it right, kiddo! Thanks!” He got out and headed towards the doors. The bouncer at the front stopped the next person in line from going in as he let Mic through the ropes to head straight in. “Midnight and Eraser are coming as well, let them know I’m already here.” He informed the bouncer loud enough for only him to hear. The bouncer nodded. He went straight to the VIP entry section and the host welcomed him warmly.
“Welcome, Mr. Mic! We weren’t expecting you, but we always have your table ready on Saturday nights just in case! Will it just be you tonight, sir?”
“Just the usual 2 others. Can you have the barkeep send my drink over and in about 20-30 minutes send another round plus the other two’s usuals?”
“Of course, sir. Right away!”
Mic headed up the stairs to the VIP balcony to his table placed in the far corner. The table is secluded from the rest of the balcony, but it was also by the railing so that there was a nice view of the floor down below, which is usually filled with sweaty bodies dancing their night away. He watched and listened to the music, which wasn’t too bad tonight. He looked at who was DJing that night and recognized the girl as one of the club’s regular alternating DJs on staff.
A waiter brought his drink as he kept jumping from thought to thought, staring down at the mass of people below. He was envious of their carefree faces and wished, not for the first time today, that he could be happy again. He downed his drink in one gulp and stood up. It wasn’t enough to make him feel anything yet. He walked back down the stairs to the bartender there and ordered another whiskey and downed that in another gulp. Saying thanks, he passed over some cash, turned off his ears and weaved his way to the middle of the dance floor. The music vibrated his body and the beat controlled his movements. He closed his eyes as he started to dance, letting the bodies around him push and pull as they all bounced and swayed around each other. He wanted to disappear, to let go and blend in with the crowd, to pretend just for this moment, that he was one of them and that he wasn’t on the brink of self destruction.
It felt like an eternity had passed with him like this, feeling absolutely nothing but the bodies around him. It wasn’t until someone grabbed his hand tightly and pulled him forward into their own swaying body that he opened his eyes and looked. There Nemuri was, looking as beautiful as ever, holding their intertwined hands up as she twirled around. He softly smiled at her and they danced, letting her lead, for a few minutes before heading back to their table. Hizashi looked up and saw Shota leaning over the railing by their table looking down at them, drink in hand. As Zashi was following Nem up the stairs, he switched his ears back on and winced at the sudden volume of the club.
As they got closer to their table, Shota turned around in order to sit down at the table. He had half of his hair pulled up like Hizashi, except that Shota had all of his usual hair in his face pulled back in his bun. He had on a half white, half black button down shirt, his 2 top buttons undone, and sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, and black pants that weren’t tight, but form fitting.
‘He really is such a beautiful man…’ Hizashi thought to himself as he sat down in the seat next to him. ‘I really messed up what could have been between the two of us. Maybe one day…’
“Hiz, you might want to wipe the drool from your mouth,” Nemuri whispered over to him teasingly, as she took the seat on the other side of Hizashi. He shook his head back and forth to clear his thoughts and moved to wipe some of the sweat from his head. He quickly turned his head to check his mouth for drool, just in case.
“Ahh looks like the drinks have already come! I knew I timed that pretty well! First round is on me, guys!” Hizashi grabbed his drink and toasted it towards his friends.
“To old friends and new memories” Nemuri cheered.
“To there only being 3.5 more hours until I can go to bed.” Shota pointedly grumbled towards Nemuri who scrunched her face towards him teasingly.
Hizashi smiled as he looked at his friends, when a pang of sadness hit him. He wasn’t quite sure why until it dawned on him. His sadness came from the realization that his mind had already been made up about the MLA the moment that man on the roof offered him a way out of his torment. He had known it subconsciously, but it was finally hitting him like a bag of bricks. He was going to find and talk to a member of this MLA and most likely join their organization, and in doing that, he would be betraying his friends. Betraying everything that he had once stood for, all those years ago when he applied and got accepted into the hero course of the best school in the nation. Betraying all of his teachers, mentors, coworkers, friends… None of them would understand what he’s been through and why he would do this. It’s a loss that he will try to postpone for as long as possible.
“Thank you for being my friends.”
They all tapped their glasses together and drank to everyone’s toasts.