The world came to Izuku in pieces.
First was his Quirk, immediately reaching out to sense anyone nearby, coming up with only a few mild lights that weren’t close enough to be a threat. There was a quiet hum reverberating around the room, and when he finally mustered enough strength to open his eyes he was met with a plain white ceiling.
He winced at the bright light above him before sluggishly pushing himself into a sitting position. Izuku felt like his head was full of cotton, the drugs he knew were in his system making it hard to move.
Focus.
Whoever had captured him had decided to deal and bandage his leg and had apparently opted against any form restraints. Either they were particularly stupid or were trying to be kind so they could coerce him into cooperating.
Their mistake.
They had replaced his Hero Costume with sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, so that meant he didn’t have any of his gear. It didn’t matter-he was used to fighting barehanded.
Izuku pulled the covers off of himself and stood, blood rushing to his head as the world tilted.
Fuuuuuuck.
He gripped the bedframe and staggered over to a small sink with a mirror above it. He wasn’t interested in how he looked-he was well aware it was probably like shit-what he wanted was the shards. Well the soon to be shards.
Forcing himself to activate a strength Quirk along with his newly acquired Durability to avoid further injury, he rapped the mirror forcefully, causing it to shatter.
He cringed at the noise but relaxed slightly when no one came running. If they had cameras monitoring him someone would have likely already come to check on him.
As he was picking up a few of the larger pieces, he sensed someone getting closer and silently hid behind the door. It opened and a short woman with bright blue hair stepped inside. Her light wasn’t alert or aggressive, and she was probably some form of medic by the look of her uniform.
Not a fighter.
That was why it was easy, even in his drugged stupor, to slip behind her and put her in a choke hold long enough for her to pass out. Less easy was dragging her into the closet and cutting the bedsheets into bindings, but you work with what you’ve got.
Weapon in hand, he pushed open the door and began staggering his way down the hallway. He had to pause every few steps or he would pass out, so it was slow going.
Fifteen feet to the window.
Several lights were rapidly approaching from the stairwell. There weren’t any doors close enough to duck into.
Twelve feet.
Two lights coming from behind him.
Ten feet.
They were in sight now, two men and a woman coming from his right and two men from behind.
Five feet.
He tried to activate any of his Quirks, but the drugs in his system only allowed his to faintly grasp them and his nausea increased with his efforts.
Two feet.
The woman was saying something, her brow furrowed as the dark-haired man stepped forward. The yellow man’s light and the woman’s felt familiar for some reason, but it didn’t matter. He needed to get out.
One of the two men from behind grasped his shoulder and instinct took over from there.
Izuku rammed his elbow into the man’s nose before quickly throwing him over his shoulder and onto the ground. He threw the glass shard at the dark-haired man who’d stepped forward before turning to the window.
Zero feet.
His palm struck the window and he forced himself to activate Fracture and both of his Strength Quirks.
The glass cracked heavily but didn’t break.
He wound up for another hit but ultimately was forced away. The woman was emitting some sort of purple gas and he did not want to find out what it did.
The world was becoming blurrier with every passing moment but-he couldn’t stop now, couldn’t die here couldn’t be captured again and he would bring this building down before he was.
He threw his other glass shard at the woman, using as much of Force push as he could in his condition.
The world went black before he found out if his aim had been true.
…
Nemuri stared at Midoriya’s unconscious body, his relaxed expression a sharp contrast to the near feral like snarl it had previously donned. There had been no recognition nor hesitation in his movements, and she knew he’d been aiming to maim.
A stream of swears brought her attention to Tensei.
“Motherfucker.” He cursed. He had been the one to intercept the glass shards Midoriya had sent flying at the two of them with a well timed deflection, but had still gotten cut in the process. “What the hell was that?”
Hizashi pulled the injured doctor to his feet, the man clutching his probably broken nose. “If I had to guess I’d say he wanted to leave.”
“No shit.” Nemuri sniped.
The uninjured doctor cleared his throat. “If I may offer some insight,” Hizashi gestured for him to continue. “As you are aware, this hospital specializes in injuries for Heroes and other law enforcement branches. It’s not unusual for some of them to be…jumpy so to speak after waking up. I believe he was one of the students from the U.S.J. attack, correct?”
Nemuri nodded.
“Well then it is possible that under the influence of the painkillers and sedatives he panicked and still thought he was with the Villains.” He glanced at the Midoriya’s prone form and winced. “Speaking of which, would you mind helping me get him back to his room? I’ve already alerted some of the other staff but the sooner we hook him back on the IV the better.”
Hizashi bent down and scooped the limp body into his arms, following the doctor into one of the side rooms without another word as the doctor with the broken nose murmured quietly into a walkie talkie. He guided them into a side room as a nurse appeared and began tending to Tensei’s cuts.
“He in any of your classes?” Tensei asked.
Nemuri nodded. “His name is Izuku Midoriya. Never causes any trouble and keeps to himself for the most part. Pretty sure he’s bored out of his mind half the time in class though.”
Tensei stared at her in disbelief. “With U.A.’s workload?”
“The kid’s smart, what can I say?” They thanked the doctor and began making their way towards Aizawa’s room. “What I’m more concerned about is the way he reacted. While it’s true that he might have just been confused, that’s a very extreme reaction for a kid.”
“That does seem concerning. I can’t imagine Tenya acting like that, and he was in the same attack.”
Nemuri recalled the icy determination in Midoriya’s acidic green eyes. “We’ll keep an eye on him.”
…
It was hours after Nemuri and Tensei had left, the former needed for a press conference about this shitshow. Normally Hizashi would join her, but Nezu had taken one look at the blond and released him from his duties until Shota woke up.
Which he still hadn’t.
This was far from the first time one of them had been injured-it came with the territory of being a Pro Hero after all-but it never got any easier. What little skin could be seen on Shota was deathly pale, his husband’s chest raising and falling far too slowly for comfort.
He needed a break.
Quietly shutting the hospital room door, Hizashi made his way to the vending machine. Considering this was a hospital exclusively for law enforcement members, it was filled with things ranging from protein bars to energy drinks to gummy bears.
Collecting his chocolate bar, he nearly stumbles when he sees a purple haired teen curled up behind the machine. His arms were tightly clutching his legs to his chest and there was a definite note of anxiety in the boy’s eyes.
Probably visiting someone. Hizashi deducted, but it didn’t explain why he looked five seconds from a panic attack.
“Hey, little listener.” The purple teen jolted violently. “Are you alright?”
Wary eyes followed his movements closely. “They’re not letting me see my friend.” He said eventually. “They said he’s too dangerous for visitors.”
“Who’s your friend?” There was probably more than one person submitted to the hospital that had had a negative reaction recently-
“Izuku Midoriya.”
Or not.
“He was caught up in the U.S.J. attack and he was injured badly enough that he’s been here for two days and they won’t let me see him.” There was a slight snarl to his words and his already pale skin was furthered whitened as his fingers pressed against each other.
Hizashi crouched down next to him, keeping his movements predictable and slow. “I might be able to help you,”
The boy narrowed his eyes. “You’re not a doctor.” It wasn’t a question.
“No.” He agreed. “But if they’re labeling your friend dangerous-” Violet eyes hardened. Need to tread carefully now. “-then if I’m there to supervise then they might let you visit.”
“Why would they?”
Hizashi released a blinding grin. “Who could say no to this face?”
He was met with a bland stare.
“Tough crowd.” Hizashi muttered. “Come on kid, let’s go find a doctor.”
The lanky teen slowly got to his feet, his tall frame stretching out like a cat. It reminded him painfully of Shota, the kid’s eyebags not helping the similarities. He might as well have been a younger purple version of him with those observant eyes flickering around, wary in a way no kid his age should be.
Getting permission was easier than Hizashi thought it would be. They still had Midoriya under sedation-apparently the second time he’d been awoken hadn’t gone much better-so with a Pro Hero watching the unconscious boy the hospital allowed it. The purple teen which he now knew as Shinsou, had been borderline harassing the staff to let him in, and when he had been refused, had resigned himself to stalking the hallways.
“How do you know Midoriya?” Hizashi asked in an attempt to make conversation. They were nearly to the aforementioned boy’s room at this point and Shinsou hadn’t said anything since introducing himself.
Hitoshi’s shoulders stiffened slightly. “We live close and go to the same school.”
Hizashi brightened. “You got to U.A. as well?”
“Yeah.”
“What class?” He inquired.
Shinsou’s expression shut down. “1C.” He practically spat. “I’m in general studies.”
Ahh, probably tried to get into the Hero Course. “It’s nice to have someone you know at a new school. Were you guys childhood friends?”
Hizashi resisted the urge to grin as Hitoshi relaxed minutely. “Nah, we met only recently. He only moved in a little while ago.”
They reached Midoriya’s room and Hizashi paused before opening it. “Are you ready?”
Hitoshi took a deep breath. “The doctors told me that he had never been in danger of dying, and that he’ll make a full recovery.”
“But you’re frightened that if you open that door it won’t be true.” Hizashi understood on a painful level.
Shinsou visibly steeled himself. “He survived a Villain attack. I can open a door.”
He still didn’t move.
“It’s not a competition.” Hizashi said gently.
Hitoshi released a shuddering breath as his hand shot out like a viper and quickly turned the knob before gently pushing the door.
The room is one reserved for ‘dangerous patients’, and it showed. There wasn’t a window or anything that could be easily broken or turned into a weapon. The hospital bed was built to accommodate the restraints that were locked around Midoriya’s wrists and ankles, and even the IV in his arm was sturdily built.
Shinsou slowly made his way towards that bed, hands shaking lightly as watched the unconscious boy.
Hizashi remained at the entrance, unwilling to break the moment.
“Alive.” Hitoshi released a shaky breath. “Alive.” He reached towards Midoriya before snatching his hand back and glancing at him sheepishly.
Oh? Hizashi restrained a grin. Puppy love was so cute. “Do you know how long it’ll be until he’s discharged?”
Shinsou shook his head. “They wouldn’t tell me. The only reason they even let me in was because of my U.A. student card.”
“I’m sure he’ll be up and at ‘em in no time.” Hizashi reassured him, glancing at the aforementioned boy.
And found two acidic green eyes staring back.
…
There were people in his cell.
They had clearly learned from his first escape attempt, and had moved him to a much more fortified room. The drugs were still messing with his head and his arms and legs were restrained, leaving him options for escape.
“Oh, thank god.” The purple haired boy practically deflated with relief. He was lean and his stance showed a lack of preparedness and training. Hopefully it wasn’t an act.
Why do their lights seem familiar?
The blond man felt much more dangerous. Though he smiled brightly, asking, “How ya feeling little listener?” every instinct in Izuku’s body screamed that he was a threat. His light was a bright yellow that ebbed and flowed like a wave, inconspicuous one moment but overwhelming the next. His posture was casual, but the type of casual those with enough power gained after enough battles won, enough blood shed, and enough pain endured.
He’d be the one to watch.
Something was nagging him in the back of his mind. Why didn’t he feel under threat? Why was he so relaxed? Why did he feel like he knew them?
“I can’t believe you,” The boy said with a tone somewhere between worried and exasperated. “You just had to get caught up in a Villain attack.”
When had he been in a Villain attack? Weren’t they Villains? Were they attempting some sort of reverse psychology on him?
Remember remember remember remember.
“Are you okay?”
I haven’t been okay for years.
The blond came closer.
Izuku met his gaze and began to pull.
Remember remember remember remember.
The man’s light was heavy in the way powerful Quirks were. His muddled brain could make out that it had to do with sound, but not much else.
He was so focused on the blond that he didn’t realize the purple teen had bent over to hug him. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”
REMEMBER REMEMBER REMEMBER REMEMBER.
“Shin…sou?”
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