Irrational Years

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Your point of view.

"CLOUD!" Oboro yelled, pointing towards the kids. You didn't know what was happening but you felt the tension in his back like an electric current. Then everything came crashing down. You heard the rocks everywhere, felt Oboro crumple. His back pinned you to the ground. He was warm, so warm, but the usual whoosing of air in and out of his lungs sounded irregular, breaths struggling. He laughed, a weak, labored sound. His heartbeat started getting quieter. Your ears laid back flat in confusion and a worry you didn't understand. The heartbeat you knew so well faltered. And then it stopped. You could hear Aizawa fighting in the distance, hear him yelling in pure determination. You felt Oboro growing strangely cold.

You hoped that maybe if you stayed with him he would warm up again.

Workers came and lifted him into a bag. To warm him maybe? You stayed hidden in his shirt, but as they loaded you into a truck you peeked out to see Aizawa standing in the rain. Water streamed from his dark hair. His head bowed in defeat even though it seemed like he'd won his fight. Standing in the rain without an umbrella. It reminded you of that rainy day the first time you'd seen him.

You snuggled back into Oboro's shirt. You knew you'd see Aizawa soon when Oboro woke up.

The workers set Oboro down in the truck gently, then slammed the doors closed.

You lost track of time, but the next voice you heard was different. Your ears pricked in curiosity. The voice was muffled, like through a wall.

"Stand back" it said, and then a small explosion sounded, followed by the clatter of a door falling in. Your ears twitched nervously as footsteps drew crisp and close.

"Is this the one?" another voice asked.

"Yes." Confirmed the first voice.

You were lifted along with the bag containing Oboro. You felt the motions of being carried and driven and carried some more.

Finally, they set Oboro down. Light streamed in as they unzipped the bag. You stayed still and hidden.

There was a pause.

"This is the wrong one," a dangerously low voice accused.

"It was the only one there!"

"We weren't supposed to get the cloud kid! We were supposed to get the boy who can erase quirks!"

A new voice interrupted.

"So, you failed to bring Shota Aizawa."

Both of the earlier voices fell abruptly silent.

"You failed... Even after we set up that villain to send a blast over him."

Heavy, clipping steps approached.

"But it's not a complete failure. UA... where all the best powers are collected. We can use this boy."

A new voice, crackling with age, spoke up "I can tell his quirk is strong. He'll make an excellent subject!"

Your fur began standing on edge with each new voice, until you were fluffed into a ball of unease.

The elderly speaker continued talking as he lifted Oboro, examining his face, his arms, his hands.

"What's this?" he said suddenly, and you felt his bony hand press around you. You struggled, but he pulled you out of Oboro's shirt by the scruff of your neck.

Four people surrounded you and Oboro. There was an old man in a white lab coat, holding you, a tall broad shouldered man in an immaculate suit, and a shorter couple of guys with scars and tense expressions.

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