Oh how he hated Valentine’s Day. A pointless holiday. Especially one that reminded him how very unhappy he felt. There was no point working through the day to ignore it, the damn reminder was everywhere. He slept through most of the day but now he can’t anymore. Instead, he’s just outside, feeding the strays and ferals, sitting on a curb with his face too far down into his scarf. What a mess of a day this has been.
The clockwork lady had been busying herself with a rather long shopping list; there were a few of her acquaintances whom she figured would appreciate a gift or two. However, Orianna is not very good at keeping surprises secret. When she (again) encounters one particular recipient in the midst of her walking to and fro, she can hardly contain herself.
❝ Oh! Yes, happy holiday season to you as well, Aizawa. Thank you for your concern, but I am not cold. I am protected from the weather. ❞
She removes one of her shopping bags from her arm, and holds it out to him.
❝ This is for you. Where I am from, the end-of-year celebrations are called Snowdown. This may not be exactly like Snowdown, but I can still give gifts. I hope you do not mind that it isn’t wrapped. I just bought it. ❞
Inside the bag and neatly folded in tissue paper is a soft, dark gray fleece scarf.
Aizawa quirked an eyebrow up in vague curiosity. It wasn’t that he’s disinterested in gifts at all, just the seasonal depression catching him off guard every so often. Sometimes his kids would surprise him with a gift, surprise being used loosely here. As far as acquaintances went, he didn’t expect Orianna to outright give him something.
To be fair, Aizawa didn’t expect anyone to give him anything. At least this would go along with that ugly pink snow jacket he’d been wearing to stave the chill off. His arms were aching from old injuries, as they tend to do when the cold season approached.
He carefully took the bundle, just to examine it and he smiled so faintly under his own scarf.
“Thank you, Orianna. I’m...” Hm... How should he put this. “I appreciate it.” Now he had to give something in return, yes? He didn’t have anything currently. It’s probably better to go get that immediately while they chatted, already situating the second scarf around his neck and shoulders.
The headache was at it's worst when Aizawa came to, still in his office, still at the desk. Dreams like this never occurred, rational thought told him this was a Spirale situation. He closed his dry eyes, willing the pain to recede back enough so he could focus, turning the alarm off his phone and answering the call.
Then came the voice.
Sure enough. This was a Spirale situation, one he wasn't too keen on dealing with. He could just let it happen, die, not deal with anymore problems that came with this damned city but then that would be counter productive, now would it? He cracked an eye open, digging in the drawer for eye drops to at least ease that irritation. One pain of many.
He opened the app and scanned through what new spaces have been revealed. The city itself wasn't large. Claustrophobic even. And now the world seemed just a little bigger. He heaved a sigh, suggesting the little dot gave him enough information that his counter part was still in the city instead of those other branches that needed to be explored. Fine then, made it easier for him. At least he knew the city, having wandered in it for the past six months. No need to play hide and seek in a place he had no knowledge of.
One drop in each eye, closing the lids to deal with the sting and then came the relief. He didn't expect people to help him locate his copy, they had better things to do as in... finding their own copies. What an absolute pain. Aizawa heaved a sigh, standing up and starting out the door.
The real question would have to be: where would his copy hide? This was himself after all. Viral infection that made things irrational and clumsy would probably be an issue, but he lived his life to every rational point. The irrational moments he had would be few and far in between. Damn his past self for giving into irrational thoughts that left him in the hospital with a giant glowering at him for his morals. He spat on the ground.
In the past. No longer a problem. No longer an issue. His copy would also live rationally, that's what made Aizawa who he was. Minimalist, cranky, rational Shouta Aizawa.
Now let's just hope this rational train of thought proved right. Between Archimedes Ward and Golden Ward. If he was hiding, he'd be en route to either work or home. Feeding cats in a back alley. Doing something familiar to bring back that sense of recognizable relief. A calm after a panic attack.
Now it was a gamble to see if he's right.
Aizawa took the high road in this case, finding it easier to search for someone who could be considered a look alike over buildings. New job meant he didn’t get to do this often and he felt like he was out of shape. Something to change then, he’ll have to work on this.
----
It roughly took him a couple hours of scanning the city streets from several perches at the top of each building he came across, but he found him. His double.
Moving in the direction back home it looked like. If a little... Uncoordinated. Must be that virus the voice on the other end stated. Then he didn't have much time before rationality dissolved into irrationality. That's when things got difficult. Aizawa heaved a small sigh into his capture weapon as he made his way down from the perch on an office building, moving through the crowd carefully as he approached his double.
One hand on the other's shoulder stopped him, the aggravated shrug when someone didn't want another touching them but when he hand did not leave, his doppelganger turned around, frustrated.
"What-- oh." He paused, staring at him. "This is..."
"Strange? You don't know the half of it," Aizawa replied, jerking his head in the direction of a less high traffic area. "I have some explaining to do. Follow." It wasn't a request, but by the surprise on his double's face well... He would follow.
"To make a long story short, we're in an unfortunate experiment where only hours ago, we were one person. Now we're not. As to why? I'm not sure, but the end result left us in a bit of a situation. You have a virus. If you're not taken to another place, you'll die and with you, so will I." Aizawa rested his chin on an open palm, staring his doppelganger down.
There was a bit of doubt behind those tired, dry eyes, in which Aizawa slid over his own bottle of eye drops. For the relief at the very least. He took them, used them, and muttered a small sound of thanks.
"Sounds strange," his copy replied. "Sounds irrational at best."
Aizawa nodded in agreement. "The ramblings of a mad man, yeah? I know. I do not want you to die and nor do I want to die. That would be counter productive."
"And so where is this place that's supposed to be a cure all?" His copy challenged.
Aizawa gave a thin smile.
"An app on the phone. I hear it'll take you to a place just like this to live your life how you see fit, away from this mad house of a city we live in," Aizawa replied, pushing his phone in his copy's direction.
"It'll be counter productive to fight about it anyway. You're tired, getting weaker perhaps?" Aizawa asked. His copy looked at him suspiciously but after a few moments of debate, he slid the phone back and nodded.
"Just figured it was the flu or something. I was going home to sleep it off."
"As would I." Aizawa took his phone back. "Let me buy you a drink. Coffee, black, no sugar and cream yeah?"
His copy stared at him before he nodded. "I suppose you would know my preferences. I'd like that. Let me pay?"
He set the coffee cup in front of his double and sat across from him.
"Truth be told, I'm surprised you didn't run," Aizawa started, taking a sip from his own cup.
"I thought about it but given you already found me the first time, I'm sure you'd find me a second time. It would just be a waste of time," his copy replied, holding the cup between two trembling hands. Aizawa just watched for a moment and he gave a soft sigh.
"There's an old latin proverb I learned back in school. Momento Mori. Remember you will die." Aizawa stared at his coffee cup.
"I remember learning that." His copy agreed softly. "I'm not keen on dying at this moment."
"Neither am I, but should it happen. I guess it'll happen. One way or another." Aizawa shrugged.
"Would it be painful?" His copy inquired after a few long minutes of silence.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Probably not as painful as it was this morning," he admitted.
The silence continued on, which stretched on for awhile, what felt like an hour. In reality, it was only ten minutes.
"Alright." His copy stated and Aizawa lifted his head to stare at him. "I'm tired. Let's just get this over with."
Aizawa gave a stiff nod, setting his coffee cup down and switching over to the app on his phone.
"Do me a favor?" Aizawa said, glancing up from his phone. His copy hummed, watching him wearily.
"Try to find happiness for the both of us."
There was only a soft, quiet chortle as Aizawa pressed the in app button.
"Sure. I'll try," his copy murmured, fading away, leaving the hero alone. He exhaled through his nose and set his phone back on the table.
A quiet prayer to no one that he hoped he just didn't condemn a soul just now.
Heading home but the cold’s bothering him. Aizawa had stopped by one of the coffee shops on the way home, still entertaining the idea to just moving into the Golden ward. He huffed into his scarf, rubbing his hands together in the warmth of the cozy little shop while he waited for his name to be called. Ultimately, it’ll be written wrong.
He glanced up from staring intently at the floor at another person who walked in and gave another sigh. Well... There’s trouble. One he knew at least.
He woke up at his desk, awkwardly laying against his chair so when he moved he could hear as much as feel his neck cracking. He exhaled through his nose, stretching his arms out and stood. Might as well go home, there wasn’t much work to be done here at the very least. He pulled on his coat and left, turning the light off. Aizawa glanced up from down the hall when he saw someone walking down.
“Evening, Kite,” he mumbled just loudly enough to be more than just noise. “Or it feels like evening with winter’s late hours. You heading home?”
32 year old department chair of History in the University
Still has chronic depression and narcolepsy.
He grew up with abusive parents and left them the minute he was able to. Pursued History as a major and works at the very same University he graduated from. He never looked back.
Overworks himself to keep his hands and mind busy or else he starts thinking back on bad days.Â
Still a minimalist. He still looks unkempt and homeless but his home and work space is damn near spotless, given the fact he just doesn’t own anything.
Grumpy, but he means well. Anyone who gets past that knows Aizawa is a perfectly fine individual. You can catch him feeding cats outside his home in the early hours of the morning and late at night. Tends to call friends when he can’t make it home to feed the strays and ferals.
You can catch him helping kids who have been in the same situation as him. He doesn’t trust the police and he will get into heated arguments with people over the well being of a child.
He will frequent cafes and coffee shops close to work. People assume he never leaves work, like... He almost lives there.
“Well my office is cleaned out and somewhat organized. New years resolution is to stop sleeping in my office and actually go home for once. Maybe just move closer to work. Maybe look into getting a proper schedule for sleep.” Who was he kidding? That’s never going to happen. None of this would.
“Or just continue to go see a therapist and see where that gets it.”
He watched the count down from inside his office, the blinds pulled away as he watched the clock from university grounds. He exhaled through his nose, popping the top of some shitty cheap beer while the seconds counted down.Â
12:00 A.M. January 1, 2019.
Aizawa closed his eyes and took a swig, frowning and setting it away. He could hear the celebration off in the distance, but the grounds here were silent. He stared back at his computer and closed the top, feeling the tug in his chest but nothing that could be dealt with or acknowledged right now. He refused to acknowledge at the very least.
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