My Mangekyo Sharingan Can't Save My Hero Academia: 11 Eri

Yuta blinked once.

Twice.

"…Eri?"

His stomach dropped.

No. No, no way. No way in hell—

His brain started connecting dots he really didn’t want connected.

White hair.

Red eyes.

One horn.

Bandages.

Bare feet.

Eri.

Eri.

His pulse spiked.

If that was Eri—

Then the man in front of him…

Tall.

Black shirt.

White gloves.

Purple feathered collar.

Plague doctor mask.

A second man behind him, huge, masked, silent.

Recognition slammed into him like a train.

No. No, no, no—

Overhaul.

Yuta’s breath stalled mid-inhale. He wasn't much of an MHA fan and had stopped at the early stages of season 4.

If he remembered right, this girl behind him, Eri, had appeared in episode 4. Running away in the streets of the city before bumping into Deku during his work studies.

and this guy before him was her Tormentor ... Overhaul. Leader of the Shie Hassaikai .

'But how could it be here? This shouldn't be the. ..'

His thoughts stalled.

Come to think of it, the city in question were the Overhaul Arc took place was never named.

Even if it was, he doubt he would even remember it, nor would it have been the first thing to come to mind.

'To think ... Of all the stops I could have woken up at ... Not one stop earlier or one stop later ..'

He gritted his teeth.

'It just had to be here.'

He had wandered into that moment. Months before it was supposed to happen. Without heroes, backup, or preparation of any kind.

'Great .. Just great.'

"Mhmm." Overhaul responded indifferently.

"That's my daughter. It's unfortunate she had to be a disturbance. Now do yourself a favour and move."

"Uh ..."

Yuta blinked. ".. I see. Right. It's no problem."

He moved out of the way with quick steps. "In that case, I'll just be ... Huh?" He stiffened mid speech.

Two small, trembling hands clamped around Yuta’s leg.

He froze.

Slowly—carefully—he looked down.

Eri stared up at him, eyes wide, terrified, glassy with the kind of fear that didn’t belong on a child’s face. Her fingers dug into his pants like she was holding onto the last solid object in the world.

The sight hit him like a punch to the chest.

“…hey—” he whispered, barely breathing. “It’s okay, I didn’t—”

Her lips moved.

“…help.”

It wasn’t loud. Coming out as barely a whisper.

And it shattered him.

'I ..'

Before he could react, Overhaul spoke again—calm, flat, yet clearly irritated.

“Eri.”

She jolted like she’d been shocked.

“What could you possibly need help with from a stranger?” his voice carrying no real curiosity—just warning.

Eri didn’t answer. She just pressed closer to Yuta’s leg, gripping tighter, shaking harder.

Yuta’s mind blanked.

'Don't do anything crazy! Don't be rash ..' The thought had barely formed when he did the stupidest thing he could’ve done.

He bent down, slipped a hand under her arms, and lifted her gently against him.

A small weight—barely anything—but it felt like holding a live grenade.

He turned stiffly toward Overhaul, using his quirk to keep his voice level.

“Um… your daughter seems… really scared.”

Overhaul’s gold eyes narrowed behind the mask.

“It’s not good to pry into things that are none of your business, kid.”

That single sentence almost buckled Yuta’s knees.

Behind him, the larger man—Rappa, unmistakably—shifted his stance. No threat display. Just presence. Enough to remind Yuta he was surrounded.

This was suicide.

Yuta swallowed, throat dry.

Eri trembled in his arms. Her breath hitched. Her fingers dug into his shirt with desperate, silent force.

Yuta fell silent.

'To think ..'

His stomach churned despite keeping a straight face.

Not due to his current deadly situation. Not that at all.

But the fact that ...

'I can .. feel her terror ..' It was one thing to feel fear, but it was another to feel fear not his own.

He had seen children in his neighborhood. With dreams, aspirations and energy. They laughed, played, cried after being bullied and smiled while doing the bullying. Hell, he had been one of them.

Yet now, the raw terror this girl's body movements radiated ... From a child her age ...

'Just what has this girl been through to react like this.'

It unsettled him deeply.

Seconds trickled past. And the more he waited, the faster his heart ran. And in those swarming thoughts, all thinking of the best approach to this matter, a brash, impulsive one that carried little concern to self preservation bulldozed it's way to the top.

'Give her back? Like this? To him who'll do who knows what? Why?'

His eyes nearly widened at the absurdity if bus own thoughts.

He didn’t want to give her back.

He really, really didn’t.

However, as time ran endlessly, overhaul's patience was wearing thin.

With narrowed eyes, he reached for his glove as his killing intent leaked out.

"It seems that you're ..."

He stepped forward slightly, irritation spiking in his tone—until his eyes dropped to Yuta’s uniform.There was barely any light in the dark alley and Yuta's hoodie was well on, obscuring his features.

Only now did he notice.

“…U.A.”

The killing intent faded instantly, replaced with cold calculation.

It was one thing to slaughter this ignorant brat. It would require little more than a touch. However, things would differ if he was a student from U.A. A child missing in their school, especially after the big scandal of their hero course being attacked, would surely draw unnecessary attention.

If for any reason the heroes set their sights on him, then it would be far more trouble than it was worth.

“A student,” Overhaul said, tone cooling. “Then you should know better than to interfere in the personal matters of a family.”

He turned his gaze.

"Eri's just a spoilt brat. Keeps on making mistakes, injuring herself from playing, disobeying instructions, and keeps running away from home to avoid punishment. It's no concern at all."

Eri flinched again.

'Family?'

The word made Yuta’s jaw tighten.

His thoughts raced out of control.

'If I run, he’ll kill me instantly.'

'If I fight, he’ll kill me instantly.'

'If I grab Eri and somehow escape, he’ll hunt me down report me, label me a kidnapper—'

Regardless of the actual situation, Overhaul was Eri's legal guardian. Not him. He didn't need to know who he was, and he didn't even need to get his hands dirty.

Just reporting that a U.A student kidnapped his daughter ... That would be the end of him.

'I’ll be expelled. Arrested. My mom…'

No matter how he looked at it, the situation remained grim.

He couldn’t do anything.

He. Couldn’t. Do. Anything.

His chakra stirred instinctively—fear, anger, panic—but he knew the truth.

Overhaul was a living death sentence. Yuta had one chance. And how he acted now would determine the outcome. There was no room for mistakes of any sort.

"Is that so huh?" His suspicious look eased.

"It is." Overhaul replied with faintly hidden irritation.

Yuta exhaled slightly.

His shoulders loosened.

His grip on Eri gentled.

His face shifted into something calm, understanding, almost embarrassed.

Like everything suddenly made sense.

He let out a small, awkward chuckle.

“…oh.”

Overhaul stilled.

“I see,” Yuta said, slipping into the tone of someone realizing they made a harmless mistake. “That explains it. Sorry. I was… actually worried there for a second.”

He adjusted Eri lightly in his arms—not possessive, not protective, just enough to sell the idea he misunderstood.

“Reminds me of my little brother,” he continued, voice steadying. “Kid’s always getting into trouble and playing the crying card when he doesn’t want to go home.”

Overhaul’s posture eased noticeably.

Yuta kept going.

“My parents died,” he lied smoothly. “So I’m the one who has to keep him in line. Hard job. I get it.”

The big one—Rappa—tilted his head the slightest bit, observing.

Overhaul nodded once.

“Then you understand,” he said simply. “She needs discipline, not strangers indulging her behavior.”

Yuta forced a tight smile.

“Right. Sorry. I’ll… let you handle it.”

He lowered Eri slowly toward Overhaul.

Her hands seized his shirt with a strength that didn’t belong to a child that small.

“Don’t,” she breathed—barely audible.

The whisper stabbed him.

But his face stayed neutral.

He gently pried her fingers off his shirt one by one—each tiny hand harder than the last—and placed her on her feet.

"It's ok little one. Your dad knows best ok. He just wants the best for you."

She looked up at him with wide, trembling eyes.

He couldn’t look back.

Overhaul placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Come.”

She didn’t resist. Her body just folded, defeated, as she followed.

Yuta stood perfectly still.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Didn’t turn.

Not until their footstep

s faded into the dark.

Only then did something inside him crack.

He backed into the wall of the alley, sliding down to a crouch.

His fists clenched so violently that his nails pierced skin.

Warm blood filled his palms.

He didn’t even feel it.

“…I’m sorry,” he whispered to no one.