A day with eri and her big brother

There are days where Eri feels like she is the loneliest person in the world. She knows it's not true –- Papa and Dad and Toshi-nii are there, but why is Eri always the one that is crying? Surely the reason that makes the most sense -– says her 7-year-old logic -– is that Eri is the only sad person, and the rest of her family isn't. Look at Papa, for example. His happy and cheerful self always matches with his bright, sunshine-colored hair.

Those were the thoughts running through Eri's head as she entered the 1-A dorms at 4 a.m. –- teary-eyed and panting from running.

She feels bad for running away from Dad and Papa when they were actually just trying to calm her down from a nightmare. Eri knows she should’ve said thank you. Still, she doesn't feel like saying it right away -– not after telling them to "shut up!" because they "don't know anything about being sad" when all her papa said were simply soothing murmurs of "shh it's okay sweetie, you can cry. It's okay to be sad."

This was also why she doesn't immediately go to Toshi-nii's room and knock at his door. She has just snapped at her parents and ran away from the UA teachers' dorms, so she just doesn't want to face the problem right now and feels too guilty to see her parents. If she goes to Toshi-nii now, he's only going to tell Dad, and that's definitely a no-go for Eri right now.

"Who's– Eri?"

A voice cuts through Eri's train of thought. It's Deku, her favorite hero who held her as she was saved from the bad place (Lemillion was there, and she likes him too, but don't tell anyone that Deku is still her number one favorite -– even compared to Dad and Papa). At any other times, meeting her hero/idol-crush would be an exciting and fun thing, but all Eri can think about is the panic and things that will happen once Deku tells Dad and everybody else that she is here.

Thankfully, her green-haired hero knows very well the dread of being found out in the middle of the night panicking -– let alone being found out by a whole class of chaotic adolescents who will throw a massive racket before returning you to your father, who is their homeroom teacher. So, Izuku decides that the best course of action is to make sure she doesn't go into a panic attack alone in the dorms' common room at such an ungodly hour.

"Eri? Hey, hey, breathe Eri," Izuku hovered near the panicking child, "you're okay– I'm the only one awake right now, okay? Nobody else is here."

Thankfully, Izuku's words were exactly what Eri needs to calm down. Moments like these are reasons why Izuku is sometimes thankful for his childhood... well, circumstances.

Deku should be fine, Eri thinks. He's really nice after all.

"Do you need Shinsou-kun or Aizawa-sensei?" Izuku continued, only to notice the panic rising back to the girl's ruby-colored eyes, and she furiously shook her head.

Izuku, you idiot, Izuku thought, mentally smacking himself to a wall. There's a reason why she's not looking for Aizawa-sensei or Yamada-sensei in the first place.

"O-Okay, it's okay, Eri!" Izuku blurted out in a panic. "How about my room, then? We can do some coloring or writing."

"But Dad and Papa will–"

Eri would really like that. She loves coloring. Also, she gets to color with Deku, her favorite hero! But Dad and Papa would definitely look for her and want her back.

Eri's logic makes perfect sense to Izuku too, but he could work around it as long as the text he receives back from his homeroom teacher gives Izuku the affirmative. After glancing at an "okay" in his message notification from Aizawa-sensei, he continues to reassure Eri.

"I've sent them a text," he told her and immediately continues when Eri tenses at his response, "Aizawa-sensei says it's okay to let you stay. Can I carry you back to my dorm room? I have a couple toys I think you'd like."

A nod from Eri, a tight hug, and Deku's comforting hands running through her hair were simply what's needed for Eri to break down into little sniffles in her hero's embrace as the two left from the dorms' common room.

Deku is weird and different from Papa, Toshi-nii, or even Dad. When Eri cries, people usually say things like "it's okay" or "I'm here", but Deku just stayed quiet the whole time she cried–soft caresses and a warm hug present during the whole time.

It's not that the way her family takes care of her or Deku's way is bad, it's just... different. Even now, in Deku's room, the green-haired student has only been silent as he gave Eri a pair of plushies (it looked like Dad and Papa in their hero costumes, by the way) and rummaged his shelf for a set of paper and art supplies. He still hasn't talked or asked Eri anything.

On the other hand, Izuku knows very well how overwhelming it can feel when people try to comfort him -– his mom was always kinda pushy whenever he starts to cry anyway. Eri doesn't need know this -– obviously.

"You're not talking or asking me anything." Eri started, sounding more like a statement rather than a question. The blatant confusion in her voice did make Izuku can't help but chuckle.

"Should I?"

"Uh... I don't know..."

Izuku had to hold back his desire to coo and ruffle Eri's hair at how adorable the little girl is. Instead, he continues laying out a sheet of A4 paper and placed a couple sets of coloring pencils on a small table near his bed.

"It's okay to not be sure, Eri." He told her, "Let's just draw some things, okay?"

Another nod. Hugging the custom EraserMic couple plushie (made by yours truly because Izuku ships his teachers very much and can't find merch for underground heroes), Eri began to take a couple colored pencils and draws as Izuku flips open his hero analysis notebooks. It stayed this way –- a peaceful silence accompanied by the sound of pencil scratching paper –- until Eri quietly broke the silence with a question.

"Am I... Am I the only one that cries a lot, Deku?"

The latter blinks –- processing the question.

"No, Eri, many people cry too."

"But I never see anybody but me cry?"

"Uh.. well, there are always times when you just want to keep sad things to yourself, I think."

"But Hound Dog-sensei said it's bad to hide sad stuff?"

Ah, Izuku thought. That's good. He has been wondering whether Eri had access to therapy or not (which he wished he did at her age, but -– oh well -– what's done is done, isn’t it?).

"Well, people know you're sad, but you don't have to tell them why you're sad. So, you're not hiding it, right?"

"Oh..."

"Y'know, when people ask you stuff when you're sad, you can promise to answer them next time when you're not as sad. They will understand, especially Aizawa-sensei."

Izuku won't lie that he panicked a little when Eri stops drawing, drops her black-colored pencil, and stared at him as she somberly cried to him.

"But– But– People like Papa and Dad say they felt sad before, but they look so happy. And... and then there's me." Eri looks down before staring back to Izuku's eyes again.

"I am sad and I look sad–I cry a lot, see? If they were sad, why I never see them sad, Deku?"

For a 7-year-old, Izuku's mind supplies, that sounds pretty logical.

I mean, if you're the only person crying and breaking down while everyone just doesn't, it makes it seem like you're the only sad and helpless person, doesn't it?

However, it didn't stop his panic alarms from screaming at his head because Oh shit at her age he stopped trusting adults completely, but Aizawa-sensei is, like, the most trustable person ever, and losing trust in people who actually, genuinely care is worse than losing faith in people in general. I know it's not the best time for this shit, but I need to make sure Eri knows and understands this completely.

"Eri, you do know Aizawa-sensei really cares about you, right? Him and Yamada-sensei. They both want the best things for you, and you should trust them, okay?"

"I know that. I do– I really really do!" Eri's eyebrows furrowed, still not understanding the flaw behind her logic, "But... It's just... It doesn't– I don't know, Deku..."

It still doesn't make sense to her, Izuku guessed. After a couple minutes of thinking, an idea popped up in the older boy's head.