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Part 2 of Memento Mori
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As my heart gives out

Summary:

Alternative ending to my book “Before my heart gives out”
I suggest reading it before starting this one.

 

Spoilers to the orginal >>>>>>!!

Izuku survives after getting kidnapped by the league of villains.
However is he really safe? And for how long?
What would happen if he were to live?

Notes:

Hey guys! So many of you have been asking for an alternative ending so here you go!

 

Three chapters are already posted on the link i my instagram Bio!
Check it out if you dont want to wait!

Chapter 1: A last ditch effort

Chapter Text

The world tilted and morphed yet never settled. His head ached, his skull throbbing as he tried to tune back into his surroundings. Dust and dirt caked the air around him, making it incredibly hard to breathe. Something heavy was weighing down on his chest, the crushing pressure made it impossible for his chest to expand. He tried to move, the action brought intense, overwhelming pain, erupting in his leg from a wound he could not identify.

He couldn't feel his arm, a desperate part of him hoped it was from the boulder currently restricting his blood flow. His breath came in heaves, panic rising, almost suffocating with its intensity. It surprised him, really, that he was breathing at all. The third bomb was smaller than the others. It seems its sole purpose was to take out the warehouse. To take him out.

He could taste copper on his tongue, it made him almost wretch. Tears sprung to his unseeing eyes, a groan escaping his lips as he tried once again to lift the boulder caging him in. His limbs felt heavy, unresponsive. His entire body burned, pain flaring with every muscle he tried to use. He was going to die here, wasn't he?

“-Ku can you hear me?” The soreness in his head amplified as he tried to listen. The new presence brought overwhelming relief. The voice was familiar. Achingly so. “You’re going to be okay! We’re going to get you out of there, do you hear me?” And as if calling out to someone else, “ Uraraka! I need you to move this boulder!”

The weight crushing him to the ground disappeared, as whatever was holding him down was floated into the air. A new kind of pain erupted in its place as the blood rushed to his legs.

Something pressed into the wound, his vision turning white for a moment, overtaking the previous darkness.

“Shit.” The hero hissed from his place above him, “You need to stop moving okay? This is going to hurt.”

“Ai- Aizawa?” His throat felt raw, the words sandy and stinging.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be alright. I just need to keep applying pressure.” Shouting to someone behind him he continued, “Ca-all an ambulance!” His voice cracked. Shattering his composure.

“What- what do we do?” Shinsou was here too? What were they doing here? His mind felt foggy, detached.

“Help me get him out of here. This structure isn’t going to hold out for long.”

Without truly registering the words, he felt two pairs of arms wrap around him.

They lifted him, the movement bringing unfiltered agony, racing through his entire body, and lighting his nerves on fire. Something wet dripped onto his forehead. His mind distantly noted that it was starting to rain.

That was good? Right? It meant the fire would disappear. He wanted it to.

______________________________

They walked slowly, carefully, trying their hardest not to jostle him. However, before they could make it out of the rubble and into the open street, a rumble sounded around them.

The ground shook, pebbles vibrating from their resting place at their feet.

A great massive boom resounding through the air as a figure crashed into the building situated right next to them.

From the dust and smoke emerged none other than All Might. The man looked worse for wear, blood sluggishly oozing from a wound on his shoulder. Dirt and grime covered him, making him look almost deranged.

Another crash was heard as a new figure joined the scene. His presence alone sent shivers running down Shinsou’s spine. His body freezing as if his limbs were no longer his own to control.

“This isn’t good, we need to get out of here.” Aizawa hissed, readjusting his grip until most of Izuku’s weight was resting on Shinsou. “Take him to the others, I need to make sure they don’t see you.”

With that, the man took off, using his capture weapon to launch himself in the direction of the fight.

Izuku was heavier than he expected, or maybe it was his own body that felt weak. As they staggered across the rubble, he couldn't help his gaze from straying towards the battle taking place near them.

A crowd had formed in the distance, as if following the match. Like all hero fights, the danger didn’t deter the audience.

All Might and the villain were fighting with an intensity that rivaled the greatest wars. Their punches created whirlwinds, shaking the very earth with their movements. Every hit echoed through the ravaged field like thunder.

Craters formed in their wake, remnants of a fight between titans.

It felt surreal, to watch this. Two men with powers rivaling the gods, fighting amongst the mortals. The hair on his arms stood on end as the battle raged between the two entities. It made his veins throb with a constant state of alertness.

It felt as if he was never meant to witness this immense display of power. As if the events were momentous, yet forbidden to his earthly eyes.

He couldn't let it consume him though, couldn't let the sight suck him in, swallow him completely. The fate of the boy leaning against him rested on his ability to keep moving. So he did. He pushed through the urge to remain there, as if stuck in time and marched forward. Each step feeling heavier than the last.

Kirishima and Todoroki rushed to their aid. However, before they could get to them, another rumble reverberated through the ground beneath their feet.

A distant shout of "Look out!" desperate and horrified, sounded behind them. The voice was only drowned out by the rain and the shockwave that came right at them. The impact split the concrete, separating them from the other students. Almost knocking him down, had he not braced himself for it.

Too busy trying to remain upright, he didn’t see the wave of shrapnel and rubble coming right at them.

Something caught his side and pushed. The next thing he knew he was tumbling down. Skidding across the ground, skin scraped raw as he rolled across the dirt.

Wheezing as the breath was knocked out of him, he didn't give himself a moment to rest. His body already moving to get up, to check on Izuku. Make sure he was okay.

The first thing his mind registered was All Might's triumphant position, his hand was held high, fist pointing at the sky as he heaved, Aizawa standing a couple of feet next to him.

The crowd roared, loud and overwhelming to his ringing ears. Yet, even as the noise heightened and the chaos reigned, he could focus on nothing else. It felt like they were the only people frozen in a bustling crowd, standing there, as if in the eye of a hurricane. He watched, as though in slow motion, as blood spluttered from Izuku's lips, a soundless cry spilling from his throat as his knee gave out. The crimson red seemed to draw him in until it was all he could see, as the boy's body crumbled to the ground like a ragdoll whose strings had been cut.

That sight would forever be engraved in his mind, a picture straight out of his nightmares. He felt hollow, unmoved as he realized just what had happened.

A metal rod was sticking out of Izuku’s chest, his soot-covered costume rapidly darkening with blood.

Izuku had pushed him out of the way, the teen had put himself bodily between him and the incoming threat.

With a detached kind of horror, he saw a small smile stretch across Izuku's features, as if the teen was pleased. Satisfied.

His body moved even as his mind reeled. Limbs feeling steadier than his psyche as he stumbled towards the boy's fallen body.

This was not happening. It couldn’t be.

The rain was beating down on them, a tangible curtain forming around them, blocking out the rest of the world.

All he could hear was Izuku's faltering breath, all he could see was his pale, broken body lying on the ground before him. "No, no s-stay with me, where's the ambulance!" He screamed at no one and everyone. Wide, hysterical eyes looking up at his gathered classmates. Uraraka had a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob as she huddled into Iida's side. Bakugou was shouting at someone on his phone, his rage reverberated through Shinsou himself. A perfect picture of the storm that brewed within him.

With delicate, tentative movements, he cradled the boy's upper body, letting Izuku's head rest on his folded legs. Trembling fingers came up to push the teen's hair out of his eyes, tears already spilling down his cheeks. It felt wrong to touch him. As if at any second they would break. Shatter along with the boy in his arms like fragile glass.

“Hi-hitos-shi” Izuku's chest convulsed, trying in vain to expand and failing miserably.

"Why-"His voice broke "Why would you do that?" and he knew, even then, that Izuku wouldn't have even given it a second thought. It didn't stop him from feeling as though a part of his soul was crumbling into dust.

"I- I'm n-not s-sorry" Blood was pooling on the ground under them now. The liquid mixed with the rain and seeped into his clothes. The cold he was feeling had nothing to do with it, however.

“Don’t talk, y-you’re going to be alright. You’re going to be fine. Do you hear me?” his voice was breathy, hysterical.  Everything’s going to be fine.” His heart felt like it was being shredded into pieces. Washed away with the downpour along with the tears that slid down his face, indistinguishable from the rain.

"It- its o-okay." The words were broken and faltering. The pain was now evident on the teen's features, his eyebrows scrunching with agony. Yet, his pale green eyes were clearer than he’d ever seen them. “I- I was never m-meant to li- ive this l-long.”

"Stop! You're not going to die! Do you understand! You're not allowed to die on me! Y-you promised you wouldn't-"He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. They had promised each other. All those nights ago, in his room. They had so much left to do. They were supposed to have more time. “You promised.” He repeated feebly, another sob wracking his body as he clutched desperately at his fading love. Afraid he would disappear at any moment.

He could hear Yaoyorozu and Kirishima openly crying now. Bakugou was silent, however, crouched near them on Izuku's right, his phone held loosely in his hand as if he'd forgotten about it.

"Where are the medics? Come on! Someone go get them already! WHAT’S TAKING-" A touch to his cheek made him falter, gaze immediately drawn back to the boy shaking in his hold. The touch was feeble, as light as a feather, surely leaving a blood trail in its wake. It brought warmth to his chest even as it threatened to tear him apart.

“H-Hey” Izuku’s eyes were somehow meeting his own now, the calm green pulled him into their depth, as if by a trance. “It-it’s raining Hi-Hitoshi.” A small, fragile smile stretched the boy’s face. Bloodied yet no less precious. He could feel it, the last remnants of life tethering the boy to the waking world. Unraveling like loose threads on a torn tapestry, as brittle as powdery sand, slipping through his fingers. “I- I al- always h-hoped it would ra-ain.”

The pain he felt, snaking into his heart, was unbearable, making him want to howl into the night. Scream at the world for this unfairness. For this cruelty.

"No." He pulled the boy closer to his chest, head burrowing into the boy’s neck. Wanting nothing more than to be close to him, to have him open his eyes and talk to him. "Please. N-No."

“They’re here!” A harsh, desperate sound shouted from behind them. “What are you waiting for?! Get him up now! They’re here damnit!” Bakugou’s desperation was palpable. His eyes wild as he screamed. The rain beating down on them made the boy’s hair fall over his eyes, making him look almost deranged.

His words sounded distant to Shinsou’s ears nonetheless.

“Kid, you need to let him go.” His mind barely registered the meaning of the stranger’s words. Arm unconsciously tightening around the boy in his arms. “We’ll do our best to take care of him. We just need you to step away first.”

“H-hey man, we’ll go with them, but you have to let them take care of him. Yeah? Just l-let them s-save him. “ Kirishima cooed softly, voice breaking with emotion. His words snapped him out of his daze.

Taking it as their cue to get moving, the medics swarmed around them. Lifting Izuku onto a stretcher in a moment. Moving faster than Shinsou’s mind could keep up with in its addled state.

Was he in shock? Was this why he felt so… detached? So disconnected?

“W-where-” The whisper sounded broken even to his own ears.

“Kamino General Ward, let’s go!”

It was there, under the heavy rain, cold and unforgiving, that Shinsou almost lost everything he ever loved.

Exhaustion weighed down on him heavily as he gazed at the ambulance’s lights, getting dimmer in the distance. Gathering himself and whatever rationality he could salvage, he got up.

Would he lose his everything still? Was it wrong to hope that for once, life wouldn’t be so cruel?

They- they were supposed to have more time.

_________________________________

What happened next, Shinsou couldn't even begin to tell. His mind felt foggy, and unfocused as he followed along with the movements and actions around him.

The hospital was packed, people swarmed the space, moving with purpose and direction as they worked. A pair of hands gripped his shoulders, steering him through the crowd and into a vacant waiting room. The touch was gentle, tentative as they guided him into an empty chair.

Dark eyes stared at him, a mirror image of the worry and anguish he felt was reflected in the man’s gaze.  Aizawa was covered in soot and dust, clothes a little torn but ultimately, he was thankfully, uninjured.

The metal handles of the chair were cold to the touch. Sending shivers down his spine as they made contact with his skin. The unexpected feeling seemed to break something within him. Like a rubber band that had been stretched taut, he snapped back to reality abruptly and sharply.

Everything was suddenly too loud to his ears, too bright, and too sharp to his senses. His chest constricted as his lungs worked on overload to expand. Looking down, all he could see was red, red, RED.

It coated his clothes, his arms, his fingers, crusted and sluggish, and his mind couldn't help but bring him back to Kamino. To the cold body he’d held within his arms.

He could smell it in the smoke that clung to his dirty shirt. Feel it in the blood that seeped into the seams of his pants and slithered beneath his fingernails.

It made everything feel so, so wrong.

He couldn’t describe it any other way.

His hands were rubbing together now. He doesn't know when he started doing it. Fingers scraping against his skin roughly, as if to dispel the blood and make it disappear. The action only seemed to make it go redder.

Hands, so very gentle gripped onto his hands then, stilling them with the pressure, making Shinsou’s body freeze.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s alright.” Aizawa soothed, voice low as if talking to a wounded animal.

He felt something wet land on his arm and vaguely wondered if he was still outside.

I- I al- always h-hoped it would ra-ain.

Looking up he was met with the white, pale tiles of the hospital’s ceiling. “It-it’s raining Hi-Hitoshi.” He whispered to himself. He didn’t notice Aizawa’s eyes narrow in confusion and worry, nor did he hear Kirishima’s sharp intake of breath.

It’s only when he looked back down, eyes blurry and damp, that his mind connected the dots.

Trembling fingers rose to meet his cheeks, startling as he found them wet. Had he been crying this whole time?

“It’s alright, It’s going to be okay.” Somehow, it felt like the man wasn’t saying that just for Hitoshi’s sake.

Around them, Kirishima, Todoroki, Uraraka, and Yaoyorozu had all taken up seats. Iida, however, was pacing the room, muttering intangible words to himself.

Bakugou was crouched in one of the room’s corners, hands buried in his hair, quiet and calm. His eyes, however, spoke of a buried storm and a raging inferno.

One thought seemed to collectively go through their minds then. One thought alone.

A doctor stepped into the room then, blood coated the front of his scrubs. His face was serious as he spoke.

“Anyone here for a Midoriya Izuku?”

 

 

 

 

Link for early part 2, 3 and 4 On my bio here

Insta bio link

Chapter 2: Give up on it all

Notes:

Hope you guys like this!

Chapter Text

“Anyone here for a Midoriya Izuku?”

The entirety of the room's occupants seemed to hold their breath as Aizawa and Shinsou both shot to their feet. Their movement was mirrored by Bakugou and Kirishima as they followed after them a moment later.

“Right here, I’m his guardian.” Aizawa’s voice, although steady and low, seemed to waver as he spoke.

“Is Izuku okay?” Shinsou asked, the urgency in his voice barely masking the desperation in his tone.

The Doctor’s eyes seemed to narrow slightly, a calculating look fleeting across his features as he regarded the underground hero with a heavy gaze. His scrutiny shifted to the kids surrounding him briefly, before focusing back on Aizawa and Shinsou.

He appeared to have reached his own conclusions, his gaze hardening as he nodded slightly to himself. “It is too early to say, I’m afraid.” The man began softly, almost tentatively. “Midoriya’s condition was critical before he ever got to the operating room. The wound to his chest was severe.” The man gathered himself before elaborating. “He arrived here with a collapsed lung and a failing respiratory system. Furthermore, the EMTs reported multiple occurrences of heart failure on the way here. It was only by sheer luck that we got to him in time. Just one inch deeper and the rod would’ve pierced his heart.” Taking in a deep breath, he continued. “Thankfully the thoracotomy went relatively well.” At the questioning and confused glances he received, he explained. “In other words, the foreign body was removed and the lung was debrided and then repaired. However, as you all already know, the trauma to his chest, although urgent and severe was not his only injury.”

Shinsou, Uraraka, and Kirishima visibly flinched at his words. Bakugou and the rest of the gathered students were a little more subtle in their reactions.

They had all seen, all too clearly, the injuries that marred Izuku’s body. Out there, under the rain.

“Without going into details on the numerous fracture wounds and the severe bruising we detected throughout his entire body, the trauma to his right arm was unsalvageable. The bones to his forearm and elbow were crushed beyond repair and infection had already begun to set in." The next words seemed to physically pain the man." We had no choice but to amputate." Sharp intakes of breath could be heard as each one of them processed the doctor's words.

Aizawa’s voice was cold, detached as he spoke. “Can… Can we see him?”

“I’m afraid only you, as his legal guardian, are allowed to see him at the moment.” When Aizawa looked ready to charge past him then and there, the man continued. Voice grave as he spoke. “However, there is still something you should know.”

The doctor’s tone alone was enough to stop him in his tracks.

Around him, the rest of his kids had similar reactions. Their momentary indignation at being unauthorized to see Midoriya was momentarily forgotten. Dread seemed to pool around them in waves as the Doctor spoke once more.

“You have to know, each time a person flatlines, their body is shutting down, even if it's just for a moment. Midoriya went through multiple instances of cardiac failure. The consequential oxygen deficiency in his brain and organs may cause complications. We won't know for sure what they are until he wakes up."

“But he will wake up, right?” Kirishima asked desperately. Eyebrows furrowed in fear and worry. A naïve hope trying to shine in his eyes. When the Doctor hesitated, he repeated his question quietly. “…Right?”

With steel in his voice and a tremor to his words, Aizawa voiced his suspicion. "You mean to say if he wakes up at all."

"Right now, with his breathing primarily relying on the machinery attached to him, the odds are, regrettably, not in his favor.”

The silence seemed to descend heavily on the occupants of the room. The temperature seemingly dropping as the doctor’s words reverberated throughout the space.

A couple of sparks interrupted the stifling air, startling some of them enough to jump as Bakugou barreled through the group and out the door. A quiet grumble of needing air as he marched away. Kirishima hot on his tail.

"This isn't happening," Shinsou whispered, voice inaudible. His clenched hands trembled at his sides. Barely reacting as Aizawa rested a trembling arm onto his shoulder in silent support.

"He'll wake up," Uraraka spoke with a determined certainty. Anxious to believe it herself. “He just has to wake up. Right Aizawa-sensei? Izuku’s going to be okay, right?”

“R-right.” The teacher’s voice broke slightly as he tried to gather himself. He needed to stay strong in front of his students. He couldn’t fall apart now.

“See, even Aizawa-sensei knows it. Momo, why are you crying?” Her voice had risen then, going unnaturally high as she whirled to face her classmate. The girl in question was frantically wiping away tears. She’d only known Midoriya for a short time, but she’d considered him a friend nonetheless. “There’s nothing to cry about! Izuku’s going to be fine!” She was shouting now. “Stop crying! He’s-”

“Uraraka!” Iida interrupted her spiral, his hands coming up to grip her shoulders. “Uraraka," He repeated in a quieter voice. His fingers came up to wipe her cheeks almost delicately. "…You're crying too."

That finally got her as she rose trembling fingers to touch her face. Tears doubled as she finally noticed the cause behind her blurred vision.

“Are you guys going to be okay? I can wait until your parents get here, I already called-“

“You can go Mr. Aizawa. Please, just go check on him." Todoroki, the only one visibly in control of his composure, urged quietly. His eyes hid the raging inferno buried beneath them.

“I can wait until-“

"Please," Shinsou spoke up then. “I don’t want him to be alone when- when he wakes up.”

That seemed to snap something within them. That’s right. They needed to stay hopeful. Midoriya was a fighter. He would get through this.

He had to.

____________________________________

Breaking News: Tonight, in a devastating broadcast that aired directly from the league of villains, the identity of the vigilante Shadow was finally brought to light. In a shocking turn of events, it was revealed that our infamous protector was none other than missing child-runaway, Izuku Midoriya. A picture was shown on the screen. His current condition is unknown as the broadcast was cut off rather abruptly. Intel shows that he might have been taken to the Kamino ward hospital-

“Is there any news from Eraser?” The engine hero asked as he turned off his phone and stuffed it in the pocket of his costume.

“I’m afraid not, Tensei-kun. We’ll just have to find out when we get there.” Nedzu answered, eyes trained on Tsukauchi. The detective’s eyes were trained on the road ahead. Trying his best not to get into any accidents as he sped his way towards the hospital.

_______________________________________

 

Aizawa walked on autopilot. Feet leading him without conscious thought as he followed after the doctor. Who, he now realized, he didn’t even know the name of yet.

Not that it was even close to his main concern at the moment.

His mind kept going through the man's words, spinning and twisting them in his mind. Like a broken record, he tried to decompose and stock them in the hopes of gaining some semblance of control over the situation.

The white, sterile halls of the building felt eerie and all too ominous as he walked through them. The smell alone threatened to make his head spin. Not failing to make his skin crawl uncomfortably. He never did like hospitals.

His job never made it easy to avoid them, however. He should be used to them by now.

Vaguely he noted that his mind seemed to focus on anything and everything but the subject of his worry. As if his own subconscious was trying to shield him from going down that particular rabbit hole.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour's walk, but couldn't have been more than a few minutes, they stopped in front of a door.

Various sounds accosted his ears the moment he stepped inside. The smell was even stronger here than it was outside.

His heart stuttered in his chest as his eyes finally found their target.

There, nestled in a bed all too big for his small form, was his ward.

Looking paler and smaller than he'd ever seen him before.

An image of his bleeding form under the rain flashed through his mind’s eyes and he stiffened with the effort to hide his flinch.

His skin was ashen, almost blue. Dark circles were prominent against his pallor. His kid was lying on the crisp, thinning sheets. As white as the walls surrounding him. Looking so incredibly young and even more vulnerable.

With silent, slow steps, he walks towards the bed. His gaze fixates and focuses on fragments, but never the whole picture. Like pieces of an unfinished, lost puzzle, he sees the countless wires, he sees the tubes, and the needles. His vision tunnels and shutters like the lens of a shifting camera. Zoning in on the bruises and the cuts. The scars and the bandages that practically cover the entirety of the small body before him.

It makes the bile rise to his throat, bubbling and burning his stomach. His word threatens to spin even as everything remains perfectly still. Unfazed and unmoved.

He lets his body fall against the chair, slumping onto it, shoulders hunched with the burdens and the worries that surround and suffocate him. His arm moves almost on its own as it stretches to move the hair out of his kid's face. His fingers linger on the raised skin above his eyes as it grazes them with a tenderness he hadn't known he possessed.

How had he not known? How had he not noticed? He should have figured it out sooner. Should've done something. Should've done more.

“Aizawa-san.” The doctor speaks quietly, as if afraid to break the silence that had settled the moment they entered the room.

The hero only grunts. Waiting for the man to say his peace.

“There is one more topic I need to broach with you. As much as it pains me to do so.” His throat bobbed, stomach dropping.

What was there left to say? What could possibly be worse than what he'd already heard?

"I was hesitant to broach this topic this early, especially in front of the children. But you are his legal guardian and the decisions, therefore, fall to you." He had a feeling he wasn't going to like where this was going. “Given Midoriya’s previous pre-existing condition." Oh, that... Yes, he hadn't let himself think about that yet. Hadn't allowed himself to feel it. Any of it.

The doctor visibly swallowed, voice tight as he continued. Expression close to devastation. “Given his sickness, I am obligated by law to present you with all the options.”

"I hope you're not going where I think you are going with this." Aizawa’s voice was dangerously low as he spoke. Eyes narrowed with violent intent.

“Aizawa-san, you are a hero, you’ve seen the real world. You have to know that his condition isn’t going to get better. It would only be humane to consider-“

“Why you-!”

“Lucius,” A calm voice interrupted them before Aizawa could even begin to speak his mind. “I’ll take it from here.”

The doctor- Lucius- only nodded solemnly before taking his leave. Shooting one last look at Izuku’s unconscious form before leaving.

"I apologize on behalf of my colleague. He's seen way too much suffering over the course of his carrier. I'm afraid it has made him lose sight of the hope and faith one could hold onto." The newcomer looked composed. His face was drawn into the perfect picture of composure. If Aizawa wasn’t a trained professional, he would’ve missed the tightness that overtook his features when he laid his eyes on Izuku. “I’m Doctor Hiro. I’ve been Midoriya-Kun's physician ever since the accident all those years ago.” He continued, a knowing, sad look prominent in his gaze.

“Are you going to tell me to give up on him too?” His earlier anger had shriveled up, seeping his remaining energy out of him like a leech. He was just so tired.

"No. No, I am not." The sincerity in the man's words was almost enough to startle him. "I believe in Midoriya’s resilience. He is a fighter. In more ways than one could expect from a child his age. I believe in his strength. In him. Will you?”

Without waiting for an answer, the man turned around and walked out of the room. Leaving the hero alone with his ward for the first time.

His kid. His sick, injured, dying kid.

Sitting back in his chair, the one he hadn’t even realized he’s risen from. He took a moment to look at Izuku.

Silently, solemnly, he took a hold of his kid's hand, his remaining one, his mind noted darkly. Fingers tight against his cold ones. Painfully aware of the rhythmic beeping that accented the air. The buzzing and whirring of the machines around him were louder now that he was alone in his solitude.

It made it hard to shut off his emotions. To turn off the flow of raw pain that seemed to seep out of his very being.

And so he sat there, tears silently spilling from tired eyes. Hand clutching onto his kid’s hand. As tight as his hold on the hope he desperately wished was real.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3 and 4 already posted here

insta bio link

 

 

 

Chapter 3: To rest

Chapter Text

The world felt… heavy.

That was the only word that came to mind when he tried to describe it. Heavy and warm like the weight of a blanket draped over him, soft and secure. It brought out from within him an emotion he'd scarcely had the fortune to feel. A safety he rarely possessed.

The first prominent thought in his addled mind was that he was dead. Because more shocking than the safety he felt, was something far more disturbing.

A haze warped his vision, making him feel dizzy from the accosting lights. Lights, which for the past four years, had been completely absent. Lost within the darkness he dwelled in every day.

The colors blurred and morphed. A vivid painting that fluttered with the flickering of his eyelashes. Each time appearing brighter and livelier. Tears welled up in his emerald eyes as he, for the first time in years, saw the world.

Blinking rapidly he willed his vision to clear. For this beautiful, mesmerizing world to remain real. For it not to disappear like the smoking wisps of a dying fire.

To his added surprise, it didn’t.

Instead, it settled bit by bit. Twisting into a fully formed image of the world.

Yellow was the first thing he saw. So much yellow it would’ve made his eyes hurt if he wasn’t so entranced by its brightness. His breath hitched in his throat as he realized just where he was.

The bright, smiling face of the number one hero looked down on him from all around. Smiling brightly and grandly as he posed in various forms and postures. His childhood room felt foreign yet all too familiar. His All Might bed sheets crinkled beneath his hands as he threaded his fingers through them. Squeezing trembling limbs as if to see if it was all real.

He wondered if it was all a dream. A nightmare perhaps, meant to taunt him with everything he could never have.

Straightening from his lacks position against the bedpost, he let his feet fall onto the soft, carpeted floor. Toes curling as they made contact. Was this really real?

Looking around, he froze as he came face to face with a perfect replica of himself. He would call it his reflection if it wasn’t so… foreign. So unfamiliar.

The scars he knew for sure adorned his body, were suspiciously absent. His hair was cut shorter than he's had it in years. Curly green locks framed his face perfectly.

His ten-year-old face, that is.

Because despite not having seen himself in years. He knew for sure that he’d grown and matured over the last four years.

Delicate, unmarred fingers rose to trace the unblemished skin around his eyes. Finding it almost wrong for it to be so smooth and soft to the touch.

“Izuku?” A voice called, startling him out of his stupor. “Izuku, are you ready, sweetheart?” It was her. Her voice. A voice he'd cried himself to sleep trying to remember. Trying to keep it alive and vivid in his memories.

What was this? Was this heaven? Was he dead? Was this- and he couldn't dare to believe it- real?

"M-mom?" His voice cracked as he called out, squeezing his eyes shut as if to ward off the chance that this was all a figment of his imagination.

“Honey, what’s taking you so long?” Come on down now, we’re going to be too late.”

His legs moved both urgently and hesitantly. Painfully so. It was as if his mind and body were fighting against two prominent impulses. The need to run towards her, to sprint into her arms and bury himself there. And the devastating urge to run as far away as possible. Hide from the all too real likelihood that this was all in his head. An illusion, a dream fabricated by his all too broken mind.

“I- I’m coming.” His feet moved for him. Having decided before he could cower away. Moving down the stairs, practically skipping the last few steps as he rushed towards the sound.

“Finally!” There she was. More beautiful than his feeble memory could recall. Standing there as if no time had passed. And maybe, in this world, it hadn’t. “All set?”

“M-mom.” His body moved before he could stop himself. Rushing towards her, wrapping his small arms around her waist. He knew he was squeezing a little too hard. Knew that he was holding on too tight. However, he couldn’t get himself to care. Because here she was. Alive and safe, standing right in front of him.

It was everything he ever wished for.

"Oh, sweetheart, is everything okay?" Her voice was low and warm as she spoke. Her arms squeezed him back just as tight. Not even moving to push him away as if she knew just how much he needed the contact.

“Y-yeah…” He whispered, voice breaking once more as tears welled up in his eyes. “Everything is perfect.”

They stayed there for what could have been an eternity, but would never feel like enough.

"Let's go, honey, like I told you before, some ice cream will surely make you feel better." Sinking. That's what it felt like. Like his heart dropped low into his stomach. Breaking the hazy, dreamlike atmosphere around them.

“Ice cream…?” He asked, voice barely masking the rising dread he felt welling up inside of him.

"Yes, just picture all the flavors you could get. Although I'm sure you're going to pick the All Might-themed one again!" She laughed, her voice sounded somewhat akin to liquid joy. Melting into the air and brightening it. "You know there are other heroes out there! Maybe you can get the-" She rambled on, a trait he now knew for sure he got from her. Although he couldn't get himself to focus on her words.

His mind felt muddled again. Distant.

“C-can’t we stay here?” His words broke her tirade, making her stop just as she was slipping on her last shoe.

"Oh, sweetheart," And her eyes. Her loving, green eyes, fill up with so much understanding it hurt him. She looks at him like she knows. Knows what he's afraid of. What he wants to prevent. She knows and she doesn't- can't- won’t stop it. Her gaze is painfully apologetic although she makes to move to speak. Instead, she wordlessly holds out her hand.

Izuku is helpless against her silent request. Knowing that he could never deny her anything. Not now, not ever.

He takes her hand, even though his feet dig into the ground. Even as his mind screams at him to stop her. Stop them from stepping out of that door and into that car.

Her hand squeezes around his own, warm and delicate and all he can do is follow along. Feeling once again, so utterly and entirely safe.

“It’s okay Izuku, everything is going to be okay.”

 

__________________________________

 

 

“Hey… Hey Shouta.” He knows who the voice belongs too without even looking up. His face is pressed again a thick, slightly scratchy surface. “You need to wake up.”

“Is… Is this really happening Hizashi?” He asks, knowing all too well how vulnerable he must sound. The cold skin beneath his own answers his question. Even as his best friend utters the words. As if cementing the notion.

"Yes. Yes, it is." Comes the voice hero's solemn, low reply. His tone is practically dripping with sorrow and remorse. "They wouldn't let me in until I showed them my hero license." He continues as if to ward off the dark atmosphere that had gathered around them.

“It’s been one week, Hizashi. He should be waking up by now!”

“He will.” The hero says with conviction. Toxic green eyes intense in their belief.

“How do you know that?” Aizawa’s voice breaks despite his effort to keep himself composed. “They want to move him to the long-term section today. Do you know what that means?” He asks almost desperately. “It means they don’t think he’s going to be waking up anytime soon.”

“He’s going to wake up.” The hero repeats. Eyes just as hard and intent.

“But, what if he doesn’t?”

________________________________

 

 

His fingers caressed the door’s handle. Feeling a disturbing sense of déjà vu as he got into the car. A soft, familiar tune going off the moment his mom turned the engines one. Everything happening around him felt uncannily staged. Down to the dust marring the car’s window and the song his mother always hummed while driving. It should have felt eerie. Maybe a little frightening. Yet, all he could feel was a disarming sense of safety.

Like the film of an old movie. The scenery passed by around them as they drove.

The sense of anticipation he should have been feeling was absent. Completely missing from his usually anxious mind.

“Izuku honey,” His mother spoke in a soft, warm voice. Eyes trained on the road ahead. “Where do you want to go?”

“Aren’t… aren’t we going out for ice cream?”

“Look around you sweetheart.” The outside world seemed to shift around them. Morphing and melding as if they were going so fast that his eyes couldn’t keep up with the shifting onslaught. Looking to the car’s control panel, he realized that his observations were all wrong. The car wasn't going fast. In fact, it was barely moving at all. Instead, the world around them was moving. “Don’t you want to go back?” Her eyes were trained on something behind him and he turned to follow her gaze.

Looking at the scenery outside was dizzying at first. The motion only served to make his head spin. However, the more he looked the clearer it became. Instead of the green and yellow of shifting trees and passing forests. Images began accosting his mind.

His first steps, his first day at school, his fourth birthday, and his lost friendship. A mother’s hug, a crash, and his world turning upside down. It was all there, right there within his reach.

His first meeting with Ryu, his training, and his first patrol. Meeting Shinsou, saving people, running from the police and the heroes.

Finding his lost friend. Losing a part of himself all over again.

Making friends. Having a family.

Living. Really living and…and dying.

“I- I don’t- I don’t know. “He expected to turn around and find disappointment staring back at him. However, what he saw made his heart lodge itself in his throat. Her eyes were squinted in understanding. No judgement to be found. It made his chest constrict and his eyes sting with unshed emotion. “I’m just so tired mama.” He whispered, feeling just a little broken.

“Oh, honey, I know.” Her gaze held within their emerald brightness so much raw love it made his insides feel warm. “I know baby. You’ve been so brave. So very brave." He leaned into her outstretched hand, finding comfort in her touch. Her fingers trailed over his eyes and his cheek. Her touch brought another realization. One he confirmed as he looked down at his scarred hands.

“I’m sorry. I’m-“Scarred, hideous, broken.

“You’ve grown so much. My beautiful boy.” Her eyes shined with tears as they trickled down her face. Making him want to wipe them away before they even touched her skin. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see it.”

The world was shifting faster now. Colors and hues blended into a blinding white that seemed to feed into anything and everything in its wake.

Looking at the road ahead. A tunnel was forming. As if caging in the light.

“Is this real?” Was this all in his head? Asking this made the blood in his veins freeze in fear. The answer was something he’s been avoiding for a while now. Are you real? He wanted to ask.

Her only response was to bring her hand right over his heart. Her touch made him feel an intense warmth that seemed to trickle into his very soul.

Do you feel that? Do you feel me? It asked.

“Do I have to go back? Can’t I stay here? With you?” His voice was desperate. Pleading.

“I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. I'll always be right there, with you. No matter what."

“I’ll- I’ll see you soon?” He found himself asking, voice softly vulnerable.

“Take your time, love. There’s no rush.” She breathed, her eyes crinkling with her teary-eyed smile. The light around them was getting brighter, seeping into her very essence. “I love you so much Izuku. Never forget it." She whispered over the rising white noise. Her voice echoed in his head.

“Mom?” White, so much white. “MOM?!”

I love you. The wind whispered before the world turned dark.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

chapter 4-5 already up here

link in my bio

Chapter 4: That's okay too

Notes:

Shorter chap this time! but don't worry the next will be longer!

Chapter Text

When he opens his heavy eyes, he finds that the world has shifted.

No longer was it bathed in white. Instead the walls around him were adorned with a dull gray. The room is eerily bare. Faintly, he hears the hum of machinery and a rhythmic beeping echoing throughout the place. A sharp, raw sound that cuts through the silence.

A pale figure lies prone on a bed, the sole object residing within the room. Chest barely rising and falling in tandem with the beeping sounds. Some sort of hazy mist surrounds him. If he squints, he thinks he can make out colors within it. Swirls of purple and black, and some yellow.

It’s only then that the realization dawns on him. The startling fact that he was, in fact, staring down at himself.

Although all he sees is his comatose, broken body, his ears pick up on other things.

Soft voices, whispering to each other. Closing his eyes, he tries to focus on the sounds. His heart rate stutters as he hears soft whimpering. Were they… were they crying?

His hand feels warm and he thinks that maybe, someone was actually sitting there right beside him, holding onto his hand. The ghostly sensation almost makes his eyes water.

His feet move to subconsciously get closer, but the moment he does so, an invisible force halts him in his tracks.

A glass barrier appears to shine to life right before his eyes. Separating him from the rest of the world.

His hand rises to push against it, but the invisible wall remains firmly in place.

“Wh- what is this?” He asks aloud, without much thought. Mind entirely focused on trying to get to the people on the other side, wanting nothing more than to comfort them. “Let me through!” He shouts in frustration. Fist banging against the barrier. “Why can’t I get out?”

“Why can’t you?” A soft, sly voice startles him. Making him whirl around to face the newcomer. His breath hitches as he looks at the boy in front of him.

A dark, midnight black bandana is tied around his eyes. Covering the upper half of his face. A green hood is pulled up over his hair, masking his identity from the world. Or at least it would, If he wasn’t so familiar with it.

“Wh-what’s happening? H- How are you-“

“You?” The boy finishes, amusement evident in his tone. A knowing smirk forming on his features. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He continues, stepping towards him. Walking leisurely and with a confidence Izuku knows all too well. “After all, It’s your fault were stuck here.” He says matter-of-factly.

“M-my fault?”

“Yup.” Making the p pop as he joins his arms behind his back. “I mean… don’t you want to go back? There are still people who need us. ” The walls behind them shifts and a crowd roars to life within it. Like the ripples of a rumbling lake. People are gathered and are shouting encouragements. Standing right outside of the hospital. Posters proclaiming their love and appreciation for Shadow are held in their hands.

“Of- of course I want to go back.” He stutters out, words coming out weaker than he intended. “But, there are so many other, better heroes.” He says like it’s an irrefutable fact. “They don’t need us.”

“Hmm…” With a wave of his hand, the scene evaporates back into wisps of smoke. “How about them?”

It takes him a moment to recognize the people he’s seeing. Having never actually seen what they looked like beforehand.

It makes his heart constrict in his chest as he sees them for the first time. The picture they make is not, however, what he wanted his image of them to be like.

His childhood friend looks so much older. So grown, yet so, so wrong. Bakugou is huddled on a chair. Gaze vacant, almost catatonic. No trace of his confident, fiery self is to be found in his figure.

Kirishima sits next to him. His spiky silhouette finally making sense to Izuku’s mind. The red of his hair would’ve brought him inexpressible joy if not for the matching red around his crimson eyes.

He sees them all. Uraraka crying. Iida silently fuming next to a solemn Yaoyorozu.

“T-they’ll forget. They’ll move on.” He says, trying to maintain his composure even as his entire body screams for him to run towards them. Tell them that everything was going to be okay.

“Are you sure about that?” The world shifts again and this time, he doesn’t- can't’ hold himself back.

Tears slip down his face as the scene morphs and he sees Shinsou and Aizawa for the first time.

Shinsou is even more beautiful than he imagined him to be. His hair is a brilliant shade of lilac that reminds him of wisteria flowers. A great contrast to the dull, white walls around him. His eyes hold so much heavy emotion within them.

Seeing him, however, makes his entire being hurt. Raw sadness emanates from the teen’s posture. Eyes distant and blank. Almost empty as he stared at the wall ahead. Silent tears slipping down his eyes.

He looks exhausted, sitting there, hunched in on himself. As broken as the boy lying on the bed next to him.

Aizawa, on the other hand, is in no better shape. In fact, Izuku has never seen the man look so defeated before. 

“Stop.” He utters the words in a soft, cracked voice, turning away from the people in front of him. “Please.”  Like fissures of a wine glass breaking with the pressure, he feels his walls crack and shudder. Everything suddenly felt too loud. Too overwhelming.

“Hnn.” Just like that, they’re back in the grey room. “Do you really want to die, that badly?” He asks the question so bluntly it leaves Izuku speechless.

“Of course not!” He shouts almost instinctively. 

“Then what’s holding you back?”

“I don’t- I…” His shoulders sag as he exhales heavily. Eyes looking back to the figure lying on the bed. “I’m- I’m just wondering what the point is?”

“What do you mean?” Shadow asks patiently. Voice softer than it had been before. It makes him feel vulnerable.

“I mean” and now his voice was rising, the anger he’s been suppressing finally reaching its tipping point. “What’s the point of going back if I’m going to die anyway?” He shouts. “How much time do we have left, huh?! Six? Maybe seven months! We can’t keep doing this to them!” He cries out, almost desperately.

“What? Doing what exactly?” He replies just as fiercely. A humorless laugh escaping his twisted lips. “Surviving?”

The question seems to deflate something within him. His entire body slumps in defeat. Too exhausted to muster any more anger.

“…Aren’t you tired of fighting?” He asks, feeling as though the question itself would break him in this feeble, almost fragile state.

“So? What does it matter?” The shade crosses his arms then. Looking almost smug. “Plus Ultra and all that, right? At least, that’s what we promised ourselves.”

“How do you do this?” Izuku asks, a breathless huff escaping his lips as he releases his clenched fists. Only now noticing the pressure his nails had been putting on his palms. “How do you hold onto so much hope?”

“You already know how, silly.” Shadow laughs, the sound breathy, entirely care free. “I’m you, remember?”

The voice of his mother seems to reverberate through the space then.

Shinsou’s voice follows suit a moment later. Making his heart swell with something he’d thought he’d lost.

Exhaling shakily, he lets a delicate smile etch itself onto his face.

“I’m going to miss the light, you know?”

"Yeah... Me too.” Is his quiet response.

“Are you going to come back with me?”

“Hmm, of course! Although, I was thinking of taking a nice, long break.” He drawls as he lifts his arms to hold the back of his head. A knowing smile on his face. “Maybe give up the hood for a while. We’re not exactly in the best physical shape, are we?”

“I guess not…” He huffs, his grin holds a sad tilt to it.

“Well, don’t look so glum about it. It’s okay.”

The room around them shifted into smoke, a haze starting to envelope everything in its vicinity.

“I’ll see you on the other side?” Izuku called, his voice sounding distant to his own ears as the world disappeared right before his eyes. Turning to a painfully familiar darkness.

“You won’t. But that’s okay too.” The shade whispered. Voice nothing but a wisp in the wind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5-6 are on my insta!

link in my bio

Chapter 5: Same boat

Chapter Text

The soft sound of the television news channel filled the silence within the room. A background noise that didn’t quite reach Aizawa’s ear. Instead, it seemed to echo around him, a constant loop of jumbled words he couldn’t quite make anything of. His eyes remained focused on the sleeping figure on the bed, appearing almost peaceful in his slumbering state.

“The doctors think it would do well if we tried talking to you. Something about keeping the mind stimulated and close to consciousness.” The man muttered in a low voice, almost reluctant to voice his thoughts out loud. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m going to give it a shot anyway.” Clearing his throat, eyes honing on a particular tube hanging on the IV next to his ward, he spoke. His gaze never strayed from the drops of liquid that minutely plunged inside the transparent pipe.

Boring, unimportant tidbits of his day, the dinner he had yesterday, the coffee he ordered today. And when he seemed to run out of tedious tasks to describe he talked about his students. Their unyielding determination as they took on their newest challenge, the provisional license exam that would take place in a month. His words dripped with poorly veiled pride as he spoke of their persistence and their resolve. Even though most of them would do so in overtime in order to still be able to come here, to the hospital.

When his words stilled and lulled into the silent, static room. He tried something else. The words now felt heavy on his tongue, his mouth forming words, but his voice failing to bring them forth numerous times.  Opening and closing it soundlessly before bracing himself and speaking.

“Why? Problem child?” He whispered, voice almost buried under the beeping and whirring sound of the machines around them. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“…Did I ever make you feel as though you couldn’t confide in me?”

His question, as expected, bared no response. It didn’t make it any easier to speak into the emptiness.

“I’m sorry Izuku.” He uttered, voice nearly pleading and bathed in desperation. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me the most.” I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

His fists clenched in his lap, nails digging into flesh as his hands trembled. His eyes remained dry. Tired and sunken.

“He wanted to, you know.” A soft voice startled him, for once catching him completely off guard. Shinsou, who had been leaning against the open doorframe, straightened then, walking the last few steps into the room and onto the chair on the opposite side of the bed. “He wanted to tell you everything but… I guess he didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You knew, didn’t you? You knew about everything.”

“Yes. I- I’m not proud of it, but I kind of pressured him when he wouldn’t talk. I just- I knew something was wrong. If he had it his way, though, none of us would know.” The hero student mumbled somewhat bitterly.

“Who else knows?”

“Todoroki, and Bakugou know about his uh… illness. But not the whole-“He gestured widely with his hand then, eyes darting to a particularly interesting corner of the room. “Shadow thing.”

“Is that all?”

“Well, uh, his doctor knows, obviously, “His hand unconsciously came up to rub the back of his neck, “and I think his old mentor knew.” Shinsou paused, racking his brain for old conversation and late-night reminiscing. "Izuku didn't tell me his name, but he used to talk about him all the time. He's the one who trained him. Izuku he… he really cared about him.”

“…I see.”

“Sensei…” Shinsou began almost hesitantly, voice wavering as he gathered the courage to talk. His chair scraped the floor as he stood up abruptly. The speed of his movement was almost enough to topple his seat as he bowed deeply to his teacher. “I’m sorry!” He said, voice louder than Aizawa has ever heard it go before. “If we hadn’t gone against your orders, if I hadn’t been there, Izuku wouldn’t have ended up like this!” He shouted, eyes screwed shut. “It’s my fault he got so hurt! He pushed me out of the way, he saved my life.” His voice broke then, words cracking under his barely contained composure. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered, head remaining bowed, his arms rigid at his side, trembling with tension.

Silence met his declaration and he wondered if his teacher would expel him now. If this was the moment the man would realize how unworthy he was of being called a hero.

Soft footsteps were heard as the man got up and crossed the distance towards Shinsou.

His body unwillingly stiffened at the noise, perhaps bracing himself for a scolding or even a hit. He deserved it, after all. Izuku was like a son to the man. Any guardian would be furious.

Instead, a warm, light pressure fell onto the top of his head. Fingers gently burying themselves in his hair. “Raise your head, Shinsou." The man's voice, contrary to his expectations, was soft, holding no form of anger or resentment. "It's true that you guys shouldn't have been there." He began, his words making the teen before him tense up again. "However, your actions that night were invaluable. We wouldn't have gotten him out of the rubble in time otherwise."

“But he- he got hurt saving me, he almost died because of me.”

“Do you really believe that the problem child would want you to blame yourself? You know him better than anyone don’t you? You know that he would do it again if he could. That he would do so for anyone, a stranger on the street. A friend he loves dearly.”

Two arms pushed against his shoulders, removing him from the bow he’d fallen into. Dark, obsidian eyes met lilac, a silent understanding forming between them.

“And Shinsou?" A fist hit his chest lightly, "Thank you for being there for him when I couldn't."

The stilled, passive atmosphere they had garnered broke as a commotion was heard outside of the doors. An explosion sounded, followed by yelling and both of them were instantly out the door.

The sight they were met with wasn’t that of a villain attack. Aizawa walked out ready to face another threat, another fight, he’d have to protect his students from.

However, the scene they barged into wasn’t even close to anything he’d been expecting.

Instead, he was faced with a group of cowering nurses huddled behind their station. Following their gazes, he saw the source of their panic.

Bakugou, who Aizawa had seen nothing but quiet and serious throughout the last two weeks was anything but.

The boy in question was thrashing in Kirishima’s hold. Tiny explosions escaped his palms as he shouted incomprehensibly at the staff members.

Todoroki who Aizawa expected to at least try and help dissuade the situation, was watching the scene passively. Arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against a wall. Gaze colder than he’s ever seen it and never straying from the nurses.

"What the hell is going on here?" He questioned, voice hard and grave. Eyes flaring red, cutting off the blonde’s quirk instantly.

“Let go of me!” Bakugou continued to struggle, seemingly unbothered by his lack of quirk. Aizawa figured then that the kid probably hadn’t meant to use it. Even as he was too emotional to do otherwise.

Kirishima finally relented, his arms releasing their hold on the other teen. Staggering as the boy pushed out of his hold roughly. “Tsk.” He huffed angrily, glaring daggers at the counter separating him from the women. “I’m out of here.” With that he stormed off, heading into the hallway leading to the bathrooms.

Aizawa stopped Kirishima before he could follow his friend out.

“Explain.” The nurses chose that moment to scurry out of the room. Step hasty in their retreat.

“We- we were waiting here for our turn to visit. I swear Sensei, we were just waiting here but then- then we heard the nurses talking.” The redhead faltered, voice wavering as he tried to explain. “We didn’t think anything of it at first. They were just talking about a patient. But then we realized they were talking about Midoriya.”

Aizawa felt he knew where this was going. “What…did they say?”

“They- They said that he-“

“They said that he wasn’t going to wake up. That he’d be better off without the life support.” Todoroki finished when he realized that Kirishima wouldn’t be able to say it out loud. His tone carried a heavy mix of heat and cold. An anger cold in its fiery intensity.

“I see…”

“They’re wrong, aren’t they Aizawa-sensei!” Kirishima found his voice again. “Midoriya is going to wake up right? He has to!”

Aizawa should do the grown-up thing here. He should carefully try to prepare his kids for the worst. Because he knew, he's always known that life wasn't fair. Things didn't always go their way.

Yet, here stood Kirishima, voicing the desperate thoughts going through the hero’s mind, out loud. Aizawa, like his students, didn’t want to face any other possibility.

“I don’t know, Kirishima. I really don’t.” He prowled on before the kid could voice his protests. “I don’t know what’s going to happen but I want you guys to know that I would never give up on Midoriya. As long as he’s breathing, he has a fighting chance.”

“Sensei!” Kirishima's voice cracked as he uttered the words, tears welling up in his crimson eyes. Todoroki seemed to deflate next to him, tension leaving his form.

He turned to address Shinsou but when was met with an empty hallway. He quelled his worries, for now, instead electing to usher the kids into their seats again. He had a couple of nurses to yell at, after all.

 

________________________________

 

Shinsou hesitated as he looked at the masculine symbol of the bathroom door. He’s never been particularly close to Bakugou. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel as though he needed to do this.

The teen had a special connection to Izuku. Even without knowing all the details from their past, Shinsou knew that Izuku cared about the explosive teen.

Shinsou himself felt an unexplainable kin-ship to the boy. Maybe it had something to do with sharing the secret they had. Or even just understanding the pain they were currently going through.

Decisively determined, he pushed the door open. Instantly making eye contact with fiery red eyes watching him through the reflection of the bathroom mirror. The contact lasted only a second before the boy's stare shifted back down. Gaze trained at the white sink in front of him.

Bakugou’s swollen, tear-stained face made something twinge inside his chest. His hair was damp, probably having splashed cold water onto his face. His hands clutched onto either side of the sink, trembling in a desperate hold.

“What do you want eye-bags.” The teen growled, not bothering to turn around to face him.

"I think the name eye-bags fits most of us at this point." He huffed out, not sure why he was trying to make light of the situation when he, himself felt like he wanted to break something. To shout and yell at anyone or anything coming his way.

“Fuck. You’re probably right.” Bakugou huffed, almost involuntarily.

“Look, Bakugou, I just wanted to tell you, don’t listen to the nurses, there’s- there’s no way Aizawa would ever let them do anything like that. He’s Izuku’s guardian. He would never give up on him.”

When the boy made to move to respond, Shinsou tried something else. “Can you, can you come with me for a minute?”

“If you’re going to tell me to fucking go home and rest I’m going to blow you up, eye-bags.”

“No, no, I just…” He fumbled to explain himself. “I just think it would do you some good to see him, you know? See that he’s alive, that he’s breathing.”

“…fine.”

Straightening from his semi-crouched position, the teen looked at his reflection blankly before turning around and following Shinsou into the hallway.

A comfortable silence settled between them, born out of a mutual understanding. Dull, black, and white pictures of the hospital in different states in time were displayed along the walls. Shinsou's eyes trailed across each one of them as they walked. Eager to go back into the room with the living proof of the hope they held out for.

They rounded the corner, but froze as they were met with a bustle of people running to and from the room. Loud beeping sounds could be heard along with the voices of panicked staff members as they fumbled to call the doctor.

A code red, a mechanical voice sounded through the speakers.

Shinsou’s entire world seemed to tunnel then. Twisting and turning until all that was left was a heavy, paralyzing sense of dread and fear.

"Hurry! I think he's flat-lining!"

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6-7 already up 

link in here in bio

 

link on insta bio

Chapter Text

"Hurry! I think he's flat-lining!"

Nurses and doctors rush in and out of the room. A sea of movements reminiscing of pure chaos floods the space like a tidal wave. Machines beep and wail loudly in his ears, but all his mind registers is the harsh beating of his heart against his ribcage, pulsating against his eardrums.

Bakugou stares petrified next to him, pupils wide, dilated, and shaking as he gazed at his fears manifesting right before his very eyes.

Aizawa who had been talking to the nurses still, rushes into the room in a whirlwind. Rattling the doors in his haste. They hit the walls and shudder under his abuse, but they never break.

Shinsou kind of wants them to, though. Wants them to crumble and shatter like he feels he will at a moment’s notice. Was this it? Was this the moment his life comes crashing down on him?

The door to Izuku’s room opens and closes. And he finds his feet frozen on the outside. Legs unwilling to cooperate with his will’s most desperate needs.

With each person that goes in and out, he glimpses into it. And what he sees only serves to make his body tremble harder.

His sole steady focus is the beeping sound that seemed to never end. A constant, shrill sound that makes his breath clog in his throat. Nausea starting to set in. After what feels like an eternity, the beeping stutters, and finally, it stops.

“Clear!” A voice says, sound far, far away.

Everything gets eerily quiet. As if the world itself holds its breath in expectancy.

A loud guttural sound breaks the silence. Startling him out of something akin to a daze. Bakugou’s leg is propped against the wall as if he’d been kicking it. “COME! ON!” His face twisted into a snarl as he punctuates each word with another kick.

One beep. Almost hesitant. Another more steady one, followed by a reluctant rhythm. It's the most beautiful sound he's heard in his life, he decides.

He almost drops then and there in relief. Besides him, Aizawa does just that. Dropping into a crouch, hands buried in his dark hair, fingers digging into his scalp.

The door opens and a doctor walks out. He heads straight for Aizawa, not even hesitating as he crouches down in front of him, an arm reaching to squeeze the man’s shoulder.

“Aizawa-san.” He starts, voice soft and filled with something Shinsou can't quite place. If he didn't know better, Shinsou would call it regret, maybe a little guilt but mostly… mostly relief. “He’s- he’s awake.”

Aizawa’s head shoots up faster than the time it takes for Shinsou to understand the words being spoken next to him. He’s up within a moment, barreling into the room, almost knocking the man over in his haste. Shinsou’s feet move in a daze behind him. Not quite ready to hope yet.

His fingers rise to pinch at the skin of his arm, waiting for something to snap into place. Waiting for the dream to end.

His eyes trace the hospital bed, first noticing the boy's hand, actively being held by his teacher as the man squeezes it reassuringly. Trailing higher he sees the fast rise and fall of the teen's chest. A heavy sense of relief settles into him. At least he knows he didn't imagine that part.

Finally, his gaze settles on the boy's face and his breath hitches, eyes watering at the sight before him.

Izuku’s eyes are hazy, but open. Looking not quite awake yet but he’s up and- and he’s blinking, and it makes Shinsou’s chest squeeze with indescribable happiness and relief.

His happiness is short-lived though, overshadowed by worry as he notices what his panicked brain hadn't had the time to process before. Because despite the clear exhaustion and lack of energy the teen must be feeling, he's thrashing in his guardian's hold, as if he's fighting against an invisible foe.

Arm futilely trying to aid in his escape as his body almost convulses in the effort to ward off any harm coming his way. Milky green, unseeing eyes flit around aimlessly in a panicked haze. Wide and fluttering

“Hey- hey, Izuku, listen to me.” Aizawa is whispering softly yet urgently. “You’re hurting yourself kid. It’s just me, it’s Aizawa, calm down, it’s me.”

The man's voice seems to calm him down a little, but the fast beating of the machines next to them betrays his persisting panic.

“-z-zawa.” A hushed, swallowed whine escapes his lips, making Shinsou’s heart constrict at the pain he hears within it. “L-loud.” Comprehension clicks in his head and he realizes just how idiotic they were being.

Bakugou seems to get have gotten it before them. As the boy rushes to turn off the lights in the room, Shinsou shuts the doors. Aizawa then turns off the non-essential machines around them, knowing that even the slightest hum of electricity or air could be excruciatingly painful for the boy when he was experiencing sensory overload.

"Focus on my voice, sweetheart," Aizawa whispers so low that Shinsou almost misses it. “Can you do that? Focus only on the sound of my voice.”

“Wh-" He tries to speak, voice so rough he fails to utter the words Shinsou knows are fighting to break out.

“Shh,” Don’t tire yourself out, problem child.” Aizawa soothes, his other hand coming up to stroke his ward’s hair. A gesture that seems to settle his nerves further. “Go back to sleep okay? You need to rest, I’ll explain everything when you wake up again.”

Shinsou almost wants to protest, right then and there. He wants to shout that he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t go back to sleep because- because what If he never woke up again?

He moves as if to approach the two, but a hand settles itself on his shoulder, holding him back.

Bakugou’s eyes are solemn as he shakes his head. An unspoken conversation erupts between them. Shoulders slumping, he steps back again.

Izuku’s eyes flutter shut and he falls asleep instantly as if he'd been fighting against the urge this entire time. And maybe he had been.

They stay there for a few more minutes, reveling in the relative silence. The steady beep of the heart monitor is, for once, a welcome sound.

The doctor clears his throat from his place near the entrance and they don’t hesitate to meet him back outside. A couple of nurses take the opportunity to head back into the room. Probably intent on checking that everything was running smoothly.

"It was touch and go there for a while, we think that the sudden jump into awareness may have been too much for his heart to handle." He starts tentatively. "However, I believe that we've traversed the storm. He's not completely out of the woods yet, his recovery will be hard, especially on his mental state, but I do believe that the worst has passed."

Aizawa nods, his shoulders losing some of their tension, “Thank you, Doctor.”

The man turns as if to leave, but seems to hesitate at the last moment. “Aizawa-san…” He starts, voice low as a fragile smile stretches his features. “I’m glad I was wrong.” He doesn’t wait for a response before he marches through the doors and out of the corridors.

“Can we-“ Shinsou starts his inquiry, but the teacher beats him to it.

"I'll stay with him, you boys go and tell the rest of the class, alright?" When he sees their reluctance to leave he adds, "You can come back afterward."

“Tsk, I’ll go tell the extras, you can both stay.” Bakugou scuffs as he follows the doctor out of the door.

 

                                           _______________________________

 

Ryu wouldn't describe himself as an emotional person. He made decisions based on logic and cold-hard facts. Making it his life mission to stay as level-headed and composed as possible.

However, he found that when it comes to a certain Midoriya Izuku, all his well-honed and carefully collected logic seemed to fly out of the window.

The moments he hears the anchormen on the international news mention the kidnapping and subsequent recovery of a certain vigilante, he’s up and running out of the room. His wife startles as he rushes past her into their bedroom. Bustling around the room as he packs his bag in a haze. Mind whirling with the information and the possible scenarios he might find on his arrival in Japan.

He figures she sees the news because the next thing he knows she flits across the room and helps him. His phone is in her hand as she books him the first ticket out of the country. Destination: Japan.

Grateful beyond words, he can only take a minute to smile up at her. Once again, he’s reminded of why he fell in love with her all these years ago.

She hugs him on his way out, his walking stick in her hand as she whispers a soft "Be safe" in his ear.

Her words, unfortunately, do nothing to quell his rising panic.

 

                                     _____________________________________

 

The next time Izuku wakes up, the world around him isn’t as loud and overwhelming as the first time.

His powers seem almost muted as he focuses on his surroundings. It feels like Deja-vu. As if someone played an old tape taken from the worst moments of his life and pressed play. Waking up to the harsh whirring of machines and the soft humming of the electricity in the building feels all too familiar.

The IV drip that echoes with each drop of liquid takes him back to the first time he woke up in a similar environment all these years ago.

He tries to move, tries to right himself up. Laying on the hospital bed for who knows how long has made something twinge uncomfortably in his back. He tries to lean on his side, and get some leverage with his arm to push himself up. Maybe if he did that he could-

His mind screeches to a halt. Ice spreads through his body in the instance it takes his brain to reboot itself.

A discomfort in his chest sets deeper, a heavy sense of panic rising to the surface, threatening to suffocate him with its sheer thickness.

His brain blares silent alarms all at once. Screaming at him that something was wrong. Wrong. WRONG.

Something was missing.

He tries to move again and he finds that his arm doesn't respond to his command. His breathing is becoming too shallow, too harsh. His other hand hurts, but moves when he wills it. He can't bring himself to feel relieved as he painstakingly moves it toward his other side.

He hesitates for only a moment before bringing it down. A tiny, distantly buried part of him already knows what he'll find. Or, more accurately what he won't.

Instead of touching flesh, fabric, or even a cast, his hand meets the scratchy texture of the hospital sheets.

He pats the empty space almost frantically. His body now semi-hunched in on his side as he tries to find something he can't bring himself to accept isn't there anymore.

Because surely life wasn’t that cruel. Surely he couldn’t lose even more of himself in his very short lifespan.

Tears fall down his unseeing eyes, dripping down his cheeks as he burrows into the folds of the bed. His stomach aches at the movement, his wounds stretching with the action.

His hand leaves its futile search and rests on his chest. Gripping at his shirt with a white-knuckled grip. Scrunching up the fabric within his grasp and twisting as if to ward off the pure panic he felt constricting his lungs. Distantly he hears a thud and footsteps, but his mind barely registers it. Too caught up in his rising panic attack to pay it any mind.

Two arms hold onto him and bring him into a warm embrace. Movements careful as if not to jostle his wounds too much. He tries to struggle, too disoriented to make out the perpetrator. "It's alright." A rough, familiar voice speaks up. Making his struggles cease instantly. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Despite his efforts to close himself off, to show no further weakness, he finds his resolve crumbling right then and there. Sobs rack his frame as he melts into the warmth and lets go for the first time in forever. His hand, his one remaining arm, sneaks out of its confines between their bodies and snags onto the man’s shirt. Hanging onto it like it’s his last lifeline. And maybe, it was.

Aizawa seems to understand the reason for his distress without having to be told. The man simply stays there, holding onto him just as desperately. As if Izuku was going to disappear if he let go.

He thinks that maybe, he should have.

He regrets the thought as soon as it comes forth. His mother flashing in his mind.

“S-sorry.” His voice is scratchy and sharp against his throat as he apologizes for his momentary weakness. He tries to swallow, but he finds that his mouth is as dry as his words.

The arms surrounding him back away and he finds himself missing the warmth. A glass of water is handed to him instead. Making him wonder if his guardian was a mind reader.

He gulps down the glass and holds it out, pleasantly surprised when it's taken only to be refilled a moment later.

"Slow and steady, kid. You've been sleeping for a while. Your body isn't used to it anymore."

Taking only a few smaller sips, he hands back the half-full glass to the teacher. Conscious of the sound the cup makes as the man sets it on his bedside table.

"H-how l-long?" The words feel heavy against his tongue as if the mere act of uttering them takes a herculean effort on his part.

“Three weeks. Going on four. You’ve made a lot of people worry, problem child.”

“S-sor-“

“No, don’t apologize, just promise me.” He takes in a deep breath. “Promise me you’ll stop being so incredibly reckless in the future. That you’ll learn that your life matter just as much as any one of ours.”

Izuku stays silent at that. Looking ahead and only nods when he feels the man's eyes boar into him.

“Is e-everyone ok-ka-y? Sh-shin" 'He coughed slightly, "sou okay?"

“They’re fine. Everyone is safe. I sent Shinsou and Bakugou to the cafeteria a little while ago to join the others. Just focus on yourself right now kid, okay? Focus on healing and resting.”

“Okay…” He whispers, fiddling with the sheet with his hand.

“Do you have any questions? Do you want me to call the doctor?”

“No need Aizawa-san, I'm right here," Hiro says from his place at the door, Aizawa having left it slightly ajar in his haste to enter the room. “I’m glad to see you’re awake Midoriya-Kun."

Izuku tilts his head to the side, mind still too foggy to discern too much of the world around him. The exhaustion from his earlier panic attack only now starting to set in.

That voice though…

“H-hiro-san?”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7 already here

link in my bio

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Chapter 7: Chapter 7

Notes:

This is still ongoing! so don't worry, even if it might sometimes take me a while to update!
Hope you enjoy this one, even if it's a little short

Chapter Text

“Hiro-san?”

“Midoriya-kun. I’m glad to see you awake and responsive.” When Izuku tries to straighten his back once again, he’s immediately halted by a gesture from the doctor. "Don't strain yourself, my boy, you're body isn't ready for anything other than rest at the moment.” When Izuku relaxes back into the mattress he continues. “You gave us quite the scare, how are you feeling?”

The teen’s voice catches in his throat as he wills the syllables to escape his dry throat. “I’m… I’m Alive.” He settles on saying, despite the obvious aspect of the statement.

“Yes.” Hiro has a soft, knowing smile, as he says so. “Indeed you are.” It is said with so much understanding it almost makes his eyes water. Throat bobbing as he swallows back a sob. “Do you remember what happened?” At Izuku’s involuntary flinch, he hurries to explain. "I know it is hard, but I'm afraid I'm required to ask questions about both your mental and physical health.

And so Izuku does. He recounts the last events he remembers in halting, stuttered sentences, stopping to drink some water multiple times through the process. None of the occupants of the room remark on the evident lack of detail in his story. He wasn't ready to dive into them just yet. He feels as though he would inevitably get lost in his own mind, if he tried.

“Midoriya." The doctor says when it seems he's done talking. "I don't know if you've already been informed of this, but you should know that your condition was very touch and go for a while." He starts slowly. "You have been in a coma for approximately three weeks. Your body and mind couldn't handle the strain of your injuries, so you, to put it in simpler terms, essentially 'shut down'."

Izuku tries to mask his internal panic then, instead, he elects to just nod his head sluggishly. He could feel Aizawa shifting to sit closer to him as the man began recounting his injuries and treatment procedures in detail. His mind seemed to muddle and slow down. As if his thoughts were caught in a cloud. Drifting aimlessly and unhurriedly. Words like 'unfortunately----damages' and 'infection' stood out to him occasionally. His mind stuttered at one particular word more than the rest. The empty space near his shoulder ached with phantom pain. Yet, he still kept his gaze ahead and his focus far, far away.

“About that,” Aizawa interrupted when Hiro pause his tirade long enough. “I’ve contacted Recovery Girl and she says that the hospital has made no move to get in touch with her. Izuku has been recovering for weeks, couldn't her quirk have helped speed up his treatment? Maybe he could've woken up much earlier." The hero hadn’t been in the clearest mindset the last couple of weeks. However, now, with Izuku awake and finally showing signs of improvement, well, it suddenly brought up many worries he had overlooked.

Doctor Hiro, however, didn't react how he expected him to. Instead of a cheapish realization or even prideful indignation on behalf of his workplace, the man only seemed to emit uncertain hesitation.

His gaze flitted to Izuku’s heavily, the silence meaningful as if he expected the boy to intervene or interject in any way.

His heart dropped like lead in his chest, dread pooling in his stomach as dark eyes switched to his ward. Noticing only now that the younger boy was trembling slightly. If he hadn't been looking so intently, he would've missed the small, almost imperceptible shake of the kid's head. As if the vigilante was trying to convey a secret message. Pleading with the doctor to not divulge whatever secret was being held hostage between them.

“What?” He spoke softly, almost as if he hadn’t meant to voice the word out loud. “What am I missing here?” Despite his low voice, he knew the kid well enough by now to know that he would have heard him from miles away. His silence spoke volumes nonetheless. “Izuku?”

The teen seemed to deflate at the uttering of his given name. Burrowing in on himself as if to hide away underneath his skin.

“He couldn’t.” His voice was so soft he might have missed it if he hadn’t been searching for it.

“He couldn’t?” He coaxed gently. “You’re saying he couldn’t contact recovery girl?” His answer is given when the boy looks away.

“We couldn’t use any sort of healing quirk on Midoriya.”

“Why?” Izuku flinches as his voice rises instinctively. The guilt washes over him a moment later and he finds himself taking a few moments to breathe and calm down. He couldn’t help the righteous fury that swelled within him, however. Because why wouldn’t they want to heal his kid when they had ample opportunities and resources to do so.

“Midoriya hasn’t told you then. I apologize, I’d assumed you knew.”

“Told me what?”

“Do you-“ Izuku speaks up then, “Do you remember a while back when I encountered Stain?”

“Stain…? Wait, that was when you-“ His eyes widened in realization. “Izuku…" His voice sounded strangely choked. "What did her quirk do to you?" And of course, he would immediately put two and two together.

When Izuku tries to speak, the words get lodged in his throat. His mouth opens helplessly as he tries to find a way to tell his guardian the truth.

Doctor Hiro seems to notice his struggles and thankfully chooses to take over the explanation.

"As you already know, the day of the car crash all those years ago, changed Midoriya. In more ways than one." He begins cautiously. "The chemicals that leaked from the truck that night, altered his system to the point of no return. Along with his heightened senses and increased agility, however, came a price." When the teacher makes no move to interrupt, he continues. "The same chemicals that blinded him were slowly beginning to fragment and deteriorate the very essence of his cells. Having lodged itself in his heart, there was no possibility of a safe extraction. Whatever procedure we had available at the time would have undoubtedly killed him." He takes in a deep breath as if bracing himself for what was to come. "That day, it was unfortunately declared that he would have an estimated time of eight years to live."

“Eight years..?” Aizawa whispers, eyes going even wider. “T-That means-“

“Yes, if everything had gone as expected, he was supposed to have four years left. We had, in an extremely rare moment of luck, attained the use of a quirk that could slow down the process enough to buy him time.”

“Supposed?” His voice sounded strangled, as if he was afraid of the answer he would get.

“I am unaware of all that occurred that day. Most of my knowledge is either conjecture or things I’ve gathered from Midoriya’s sparse account of the events." The boy in question seemed to shrink into his spine even further. "However, I believe that something undoubtedly led him to be severely injured at the time and hence, in need of healing."

"He was attacked, and he was dying, so I called Recovery Girl and asked her to heal him.”

“Of course, anyone in your place would have done so. Especially in the relatively atypical circumstances you were submitted to.”

“Cut to the chase, Doctor. You’re implying that I shouldn’t have contacted Recovery girl. Knowing that at the time, my only alternative was to let the kid die!” The tentative control he had on his temper wavered as he spoke. Distraught emotions clouded his judgment.

“A-aizawa…" A small, fragile hand gripped his sleeve loosely. Making him pause. Only now noticing that he was standing up.

"Recovery Girl's quirk heals its subject by replenishing and accelerating the regeneration rate of their cells. In any other instance, it would only mean positive development. However in Midoriya’s case...”

“No… Don’t tell me it- n-no it didn’t-.”

“I’m afraid so, Eraserhead." The use of his hero name only added to the weight of the situation. Making everything seem that more real and daunting. "His quirk may have healed his injuries, but it also quick-started a process that had been previously progressing in a slow, almost dormant state. Therefore, nullifying the quirk’s effect on him. In short, Midoriya’s lifespan was shortened. Frighteningly so.

“H-how much.” And weren’t those words familiar to Hiro. Along with the pain he could practically feel emanating from them. He could only look at the man before him with sad eyes.

“It’s okay, Eraser.” A fragile smile was stretched across the kid’s features. One filled with so much resignation and acceptance it made his heart ache.

Tearing his eyes away from the display, he asked again. “How long?” Almost desperately.

“Midoriya has approximately six months left.”

"S-six?" He sat down, collapsing in his seat as his legs suddenly felt too fragile to hold onto his own weight. Calloused hands buried themselves in his dark hair, scrapping against his scalp painfully. Barely noticing when the doctor excused himself, wanting to give them privacy. “What did I do.” He muttered darkly. Eyes wide as reality crashed down on him.

“It wasn’t your fault.” The kid, his kid, comforted, as if Shota was the one in most need of comfort at the moment.”

“Damnit!” He hissed, “How can you- why would-“ He fumbled with the words, trying to voice his sheer incredulity and confusion. Trying to express just how lost he was feeling. “I was the one who called her. I was the one who called her!” He repeated as though it would explain everything.

He couldn't save him the first time around. He was too slow, and he failed. And now… now he cost him four years of his life. Four precious years.

“How can you even look at me?” He whispered brokenly. “Smiling and joking with me all this time as if- as if I wasn’t the one who ruined your life.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That night, I wasn’t fast enough, I couldn’t save her, I- I couldn’t save you, not really. Not where it mattered.”

“Eras- S-Shota, youknow what I think about that night.” The name was awkward on his lips but it didn’t matter then. Not when the man that has been looking after him and worrying about him all these years was in distress. Not when he was blaming himself for something that wasn’t within his control. “You were there that night, out there on the roof. You know I don’t blame you. I never did, not for a second.”

“You should.” His voice trembled with thinly veiled desperation.

“Well, I don’t. You saved me. Without you, I wouldn’t have had six months, let alone four-“ his voice broke without his consent, "Four incredible years." And wasn't that true? He wouldn't have had the chance to meet Shinsou or Ryuu or any of the amazing people he had made bonds with. He wouldn’t have been able to save any of the people he saved. He simply wouldn’t have lived. In every sense of the word. “You’re the reason I’m here today, I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you Eraser.”

The man looks speechless then, looking at him with a disarmingly soft look. He huffs, scrubbing at his red eyes, before looking up once again. “I’m sorry.” He was the adult here, he shouldn’t have been breaking down. “I should be the one doing the comforting right now.” He whispers self-deprecatingly.

“Aizawa, you might be my guardian now, but you were always my friend first. E-even when you didn’t even know my name yet.”

“Yeah. I know.” They’ve known each other for years, after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8 posted in the link in my insta bio

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Chapter 8: Much needed reunions

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The next time Izuku’s consciousness comes back to him, he feels more awake somehow.

His limbs feel heavy against the mattress he lays on. And yet, he feels more grounded in the happenings of the world around him.

Something shifts by his side and his heart swells as he realizes just who it is, that’s slumped against his bedside. Shinsou’s eyes are closed, seemingly asleep, his entire body is tense and strung out. It only serves to emphasize the exhaustion and stress he must have been put under.

Lifting a tentative hand, his only remaining one, he muddles through the movements of pressing it lightly to the boy's hair. Enjoying the softness that meets his calloused fingers. He must have showered recently. A relief, that he at least, wasn't neglecting himself entirely.

His action gains a slight shift of the teen's shoulder as he turns and burrows his face deeper into the sheets of his hospital bed. A small sigh escaped his lips as his eyebrows release some of their tension. The effect is so instantaneous that it brings a smile to Izuku’s face as he continues to card shaky fingers through lavender locks.

"He was up all night," A voice calls from the doorway, making him tense, his head swiveling to greet the newcomer. "Wouldn't move an inch once he knew you'd woken up." Kacchan’s voice is gruff, sounding just as tired as his classmate. “Not that I’m any different.” He mumbles as he takes a swig of what Izuku assumes, from the warm smell, is coffee.

“K-Kacchan!” He utters, voice trembling with the effort to form the words, his throat too dry to function properly. It sends his friend straight into action as he practically races to Izuku’s bedside table and pours him a cup of water. His movements are tentative and kind, as he tilts the cup to Izuku’s mouth and waits patiently for him to finish drinking.

“Glad you didn’t croak, Nerd.” His crass words are so in character that it draws a huffed laugh from him. Making his stomach constrict in pain, an involuntary grown escaping his mouth.

"D-don't make me laugh, y-you ass." He chides without any real bite, feeling content to listen to his friend's heartbeats.

“Seriously though Izuku, I’m glad you’re alive.” The teen says after a moment, his tone turning serious and heavy as he speaks. “Seeing you like that, it…it was shit, I hated it. So, don’t die on us again.”

“Kacchan… Y-you know that nothing has changed, right?" He whispers, his fingers halting their carding as he turns to stare in his friend's direction. Green, white milky eyes looking sadder and even more exhausted. "I'm still dying." His voice is steadier now, his words cruel and final.

The cup creaks as Bakugou’s fingers clench and squeeze involuntarily, the only hint that Izuku’s words affected him at all. “Stop, alright? We’ll figure something out, don’t give up that easily. Weren’t you always the one who preached about never giving up?”

He stayed silent then, knowing that arguing now wouldn't help anyone. Breathing in, he centers himself and wills his mind to think of something lighter to say.

“Hey, do you think I’d get two parking privileges now?” The question is so out of left field it catches the blonde off guard for a moment.

“The fuck..?” He huffs, caught between a laugh and a growl. “Just- I don’t even know what to say to you, you morbid shit.” He shakes his head, flopping into the only remaining empty seat in the room. “You don’t even own a fucking car, shitty nerd.”

“Maybe I should get one. Do you think they’d give me one in jail, do they have a make-a-wish foundation in there?" His voice strains with every word he speaks, but he doesn't regret the action, as the tension in his friend's frame slowly dissipates the longer he jokes.

"You sure are chatty for someone who just came back from the dead." He grunts, putting away his empty cup. "And you're not going to jail, so stop it with the idiotic thoughts, no way am I letting anyone give you any shit. Besides, Eyebags would probably murder whoever got near you, and Aizawa would gladly hide the bodies."

“Should I be worried?” A voice interrupts them, making both of them jump this time. “Barely up and you’re already planning murders, problem child.” Aizawa grumbles, leaning his side against the doorframe.

“Nah, don’t get your pants in a twist, old man.” The teen says, getting up from his seat and turning to face the man fully. “Fuckers would deserve it anyway.” He mutters, his world making Izuku choke slightly, his stomach once again constricting, searing pain shooting up his chest.

“Are you okay, Izuku?” Aizawa inquires, worry tinging his words now.

“I’m- I’m fine, just swallowed wrong, s-sorry.” He slides further down his bed, suddenly feeling very tired again.

“Bakugou, come with me, let’s leave him to rest for a while, you can plot world domination in a few hours.”

Grunting in approval, Bakugou shoots one last, “See ya later, Nerd.” Before following Aizawa back out into the hall.

The door clicking shut behind them makes more noise than anticipated and the figure slumped at his side finally shifts into consciousness.

Shinsou wakes up slowly, his body moving at a snail's pace as he ever so calmly rights himself into an upright position.

Izuku can pinpoint the moment Hitoshi realizes that he’s awake and looking at him. His entire body recoils as he shoots back in surprise. Emotions warring with themselves as he takes a moment to just stare at him. His gaze is hard and serious as one of his hands comes up to pinch himself.

When the pain in his arm fades and his skin reddens but nothing changes and no life-altering dreams come into revelation, he shoots up to his feet. His chair skidding, almost falling as he stands. He can picture the expression crossing his features as he stands there, staring right into Izuku’s soul. Not uttering a single word as he lifts his hand once more, this time to bring up to Izuku own face.

His finger trembles and shake as he ever so delicately strokes Izuku’s cheek. Once more, the object of his focus doesn't disappear into a puff of smoke and broken wisps and he finally lets his guard dissolve. His stable mask shatters as his expression crumbles and breaks. Tears escape his eyes as crouches down, bringing his head so close, their foreheads touch as he takes a moment to breathe. His ears listening intently for Izuku’s own expanding lungs. Izuku feels his own composure shatter, as he lets himself fall for the first time since waking up. Slumping into Hitoshi’s hold in a desperate attempt to get closer.

“Is this real?” Hitoshi’s voice is soft as he speaks, as if afraid to ask the question, lest the answer ruins everything for him. “A-are you-?”

“I-I’m here Hitoshi,” Izuku’s voice mirrors the other boy's tone, fingers coming up once more to bury themselves within soft lavender locks.  “I’m right here.” His eyes water and he feels the dampness spread as he finally comes to terms with the fact that he survived. He still had a little time, and he swore then and there that he would enjoy it, until the very end.

He doesn’t know who makes the move first, which one of them closes the remaining distance between them, small as it may have been.

His feels soft lips meet his own, salty and wet from the tears leaking from both their eyes. His chest feels ready to burst as he feels everything and nothing all at once. This time feels nothing like their first. The warmth is still ever so present, but it's accompanied by so much more, now. Raw emotions move them and it feels like they could remain like that for an eternity. So much hurt, passion, love, and relief. Raw, unfiltered relief at being safe and sound in each other's arms.

He pulls back to breathe, panting slightly as he faces the boy before him. Soft breath hits his eyelids as they stay like this, regarding each other with nothing short of pure adoration.

‘I love you.’ He finds himself thinking, the three words getting caught between his teeth even as his heart attempts to beat right out of his ribcage. ‘I’m in love with you’ He wants to say, desperately so, even as his own voice fails him.

“I know.” Shinsou whispers, having seemingly gotten the message, despite Izuku’s inability to utter the words. His fingers rise to life his hair out of his face. His lips meeting his own once more, then twice, only for a fraction of a second. "I know."

"I'm sorry." He says instead. Sorry for being unable to say the words he yearns to say, sorry for being weak, for being selfish, and for almost breaking their promise. He's sorry for so many things he can't bring himself to voice. Once again succumbing to his own cowardice. "I- I'm so s-sorry, H-Hitoshi!" He sobs, letting his head fall onto the other boy's shoulder.

They remain there, content to soak in each other’s warmth for as long as they’re allowed to. Even as Izuku lets his head fall back into his pillow, letting Shinsou follow his movement until he’s half laying next to him.

A little while later, just as sleep starts to creep back into his active mind, Shinsou suddenly shoots up, out of bed.

He fumbles with his words, seemingly just now coming to a realisation “D-do you need anything? Are you feeling okay? Water? Should I call the nurse? Does it hurt anywhere?”

“H-Hitoshi, no, yes, I’m okay, Kacchan already gave me water, and no, I’m fine.” His amusement must have been palpable, for he senses the heat rising to Hitoshi’s cheeks as he tries to cover his embarrassment with a huff.

“Bakugou was here? A-and he didn’t wake me?” He sounds so betrayed it makes him smile, he hurries to reassure the teen.

“You were exhausted, we wanted to let you sleep longer.” He mumbles tiredly.

“Izuku, you were just in a coma, I’m the one who should be worrying about you." He finally sits back down, this time significantly calmer. Taking his hand into his own. He feels his gaze drifting to his missing limb and freezes. Shoulders hunching in on themselves in misplaced guilt.

"I'm alright, I promise." He does his best to squeeze back, but the effort is more taxing than it should be.

“Don’t you mean you’re all left?” Kacchan’s voice is not an unwelcome interruption. Breaking some of the tension that had settled within their enclosed space.

“Bakugou you-!” Shinsou starts.

Izuku interrupts whatever spiel he would have gone into with his own, uncontrolled laughter, his hand shifting to hold his stomach, trying his best to ignore the pain.

“Y- You ass.” He laughs out, throwing his empty cup of water in his general direction.

“Sorry to break up the party, but visiting hours are over.” A nurse calls out from behind Bakugou, signaling for the two teens to follow him out. “Let your friend rest, he needs all the sleep he can get right now.”

"Of course," Shinsou mutters as he stands. Giving Izuku’s shoulder one last squeeze before heading out. Bakugou throwing a sarcastic goodbye on his way.

The moment the door clicks shut behind them, he lets himself relax, exhaustion seeping into every crevice of his body as he finally succumbs to the oppressing urge to sleep.

 

 

___________________________________

 

 

 

"Now, you might feel it pinch in a few places, so I need you to be honest with me when I ask if it's comfortable or not," Hiro says, adjusting the prosthetic until it fits snuggly against his stump. His arm was cut just a little below the shoulder. It still freaked him out, feeling the empty space it used to fill. "Our robotics department is very advanced thanks to the quirks of a couple of our doctors here. It

Aizawa’s presence was a reassuring weight on his back. Silent but persistent in his support.

“It hurts a little down here.” He gestured hesitantly to the edge of his stump. It was still red and irritated despite the numerous quirks that had been used on it, to accelerate the regeneration. They couldn’t use normal healing quirks on him, after all. The Recovery Girl incident had been more than enough of an example.

“Yes, I’m afraid that is to be expected. Your wounds haven’t fully healed yet, so even if we are fitting you a new arm now, you won’t be able to use it for a couple of weeks yet.”

“O-oh, alright.” He conceded quietly, feeling a little disheartened.

“Don’t pout, Problem child, you need to be more patient.” His guardian chided lightly, “Let your body heal at its own pace.” Nodding his head in acceptance, he let Hiro-san guide him back properly into his seat.

The rest of the session was spent in silence as the Doctor checked over his wounds one by one, changing his bandages and adjusting his IV line. He really wanted to get out of this hospital, the constant whirr of electricity and the non-stop hum of ventilators and machines weren't making it easy for him to rest.

Although, ironically, his weeks spent in a coma had helped him in that particular department. Having slept through the hardest parts of his recovery, he only had a short road to go, now. One he could hopefully spend at home, away from all the antiseptics and disinfectants.

“Headache?” Aizawa asked quietly, having learned to read him without Izuku having to voice any of his thoughts out loud.

“Mmmh” He hummed, scrunching his eyebrows as another wave of dizziness hit him.

"I've upped the prescription of your old meds. Now that I know for sure that you have a support system, I can begin giving you the proper medication to treat your symptoms. I'm afraid that's all we can do for now." Doctor Hiro explained as he jutted down a couple of notes on his tablet.

“Before you go, Hiro-san,” Aizawa called out, moving to stand in front of the Doctor. "I'd like a detailed report on everything I should expect or possibly look out for in the coming months. And maybe a list of all his medications, their required dosages, and usage schedules."

“I can handle them myself, Aizawa.”

Ignoring him completely, the doctor replied. “Of course. I would have given them to you regardless, given that you are his legal guardian.”

“Thank you.”

Shooting both of them a smile, of what Izuku assumes is a smile from his body language, the doctor finally takes his leave.

"You don't need to baby me, I can take care of myself," Izuku repeats, feeling more than a little put off by the idea.

“I’m not babying you, problem child.” The man sighs, leaning against the wall lazily. “I know you can take care of yourself.”

“Then why would you bother asking him for all that?”

Sighing heavily once more, the teacher seemed to contemplate his words carefully. “Being able to take care of yourself, doesn’t stop others from wanting to do the same to you. You don’t have to do everything alone. Get it into that thick skull of yours, kid. You’re not alone anymore.”

His words seemed to hit him harder than he anticipated. His hand clenched around the sheets at his side, feeling strangely choked up.

“You’re a bigger softie than I expected, Eraser.” He laughed, wanting nothing more than to cut the tension away.

“Yeah, well, don’t shout it from the rooftops.” He huffed. “I got a reputation to maintain.”

“What reputation! I’ve sensed you feed all the cats on your patrol route, multiple times! You’re not fooling anyone with that mysterious act of yours.” Izuku’s eyelids were getting heavy, and his energy was once again depleted.

“Get some sleep, Kid.” He replied, picking up what seemed to be a book from Izuku’s bedside table, and making himself comfortable on the chair. The entire thing was so utterly domestic, it made something in his chest squeeze.

He couldn’t get used to this.

Even though, he knew, he really, really, wanted to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9-10 already up, link in bio

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Chapter 9: Going home

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Take it easy," Aizawa murmured with a voice as soft as a sigh, his arms cocooning the fragile boy who struggled to rise from the confines of the hospital bed. "There's no need to rush."

A shaky response came from Izuku, his feeble efforts to stand betrayed by a trembling arm. "Easy for you to say," he replied in a fragile voice, his weariness painted in every quiver as he eased himself into a new seat. "You're not the one confined to this wheelchair." He sighed, the effort etching lines of pain into his face. He despised this predicament, every moment was a reminder of his vulnerability.

"It's only temporary," the Hero reassured, moving to stand guard behind him, his protective hands gripping the wheelchair's handles. "Once we reach the car, you'll be free as a bird." He asked, concern etching his features. "Do you have everything you need?"

Surveying the room that had become his world for the past month, a sense of longing tugged at his very core. He yearned to escape this place, as his aversion to hospitals had deepened with each passing day. Surrounded by the relentless hum of machinery embedded within sterile walls, the acrid scent of chemicals stinging his nose, he craved liberation. "Yes, let's get out of here," he urged, tugging his baseball cap lower and raising the hood of his jacket, obscuring his defining features. The League had exposed his identity to the world; leaving the hospital unobserved was a necessity he couldn't afford to overlook.

As the wheels of the chair rolled forward, they emitted a barely audible squeak, which in his heightened state seemed to resound like a symphony. Each screech burrowed into his mind, overwhelming his senses with cacophonous disarray. To preserve his sanity, he clung to the steady rhythm of Aizawa's heartbeat behind him, willing the clamor to fade.

His hand sought refuge in his pocket, an attempt to quell his fidgeting, while his empty sleeve fluttered lightly with every tile's imperfection they traversed. With unwavering focus on the reassuring heartbeat, he slowly but surely wrestled back control over his racing thoughts.

The journey to the car proceeded with surprising ease, Aizawa understanding that silence was his best companion in that moment of vulnerability. Once safely seated in the car, he couldn't help but feel his heart race as he realized the potential peril of this deathtrap.

Sensing his unease, Aizawa's hand settled on his shoulder, gently squeezing. "We'll take it slow," he assured. His mom had been going slow too, he wanted to say but kept quiet as he felt the man buckle down his seatbelt. He fumbled with his own, unable to get the right angle right away but somehow managed, hearing the tell-tale clicking sound reverberate.

"Can't afford to check out earlier than planned, huh?" he attempted a feeble jest, hoping to lighten the mood, yet, to no one’s surprise it fell flat as a board.

"Sit tight, Problem Child," the teacher grumbled, momentarily startling him with the familiar nickname. Izuku almost felt guilty for his attempt at humor.

As the car glided along, his anxiety gradually receded, replaced by the comforting beat of Aizawa's heart, the distant hum of the radio, and the reassuring thump of tires on the road. When they arrived at UA's parking lot, he practically hurled himself out of the car, his legs trembling with the unaccustomed weight. Fortunately, Aizawa had anticipated his recklessness and was already by his side before he could taste what freshly painted gravel was like.

With a hand securely around his waist, Aizawa guided him until he felt confident in his stance and then let go. They proceeded at a slow, snail's pace, a stark contrast to his earlier impatience. He wished he hadn't dismissed the wheelchair now.

A few days before his discharge, Aizawa had explained the dorm system recently implemented by UA. As his legal ward, Izuku was to move into the teacher's apartments with him, sharing the building with Class 1-A. Living in close proximity to twenty teenagers, and more importantly, Shinsou.

You win some, you lose some, he supposed.

"It's just ahead," Aizawa whispered, extending his arm as if offering guidance, though Izuku's senses were keen enough to navigate on his own.

"You don't have to do that anymore," Izuku replied, a hint of amusement coloring his voice, although guilt tugged at his heart due to the reminder of his past deception. "I can sense the world around me just fine. In fact, I could probably tell you right now which of your students are waiting behind that door."

"Right," Aizawa responded, warily eyeing him, seemingly unsure of his abilities. "Let me do this anyway," he added softly, his gaze shifting to the side. "If only for my own peace of mind."

And Izuku couldn’t really say no to that, could he?

Izuku tentatively wrapped his slender, scarred fingers around Aizawa's elbow, stepping a bit closer as they continued their journey. It was as much for his own comfort as for Aizawa's, he realized.

"So, which of the demon children are we about to face?" Aizawa asked conversationally, a hint of disgruntlement in his tone.

Izuku focused on the building a few feet ahead, honing in on heat signatures and heartbeats behind the imposing wooden doors. "Kacchan, Kirishima, Hitoshi, Uraraka, and Todoroki," he counted, narrowing his focus. "A few more are in the kitchen, it seems. Ah, and there's Iida, heading toward them."

"I should have known," Aizawa muttered, acknowledging his own oversight. And he really should have, Izuku mused with no small amount of amusement. "Are you ready?"

"If I say no, can we go to your old apartment instead?" Izuku asked, a false hope tingeing his voice.

"Regrettably no, but we would wait until you were," Aizawa replied seriously.

"Fine, lead the way," Izuku conceded, taking a step forward before he could second-guess himself. He could almost feel the proud smile gracing Aizawa's features.

As they crossed the stairs leading to the doorway, the doors swung open wide. Apparently, patience was not a concept that had reached their ears.

"Midoriya!" "Izuku!" rang out as a group of teens rushed to meet them halfway.

"Welcome home, bro!" Kirishima exclaimed with excitement, reaching for a hug but thinking better of it as Aizawa directed his glare towards him. "We've been waiting for you." He chuckled sheepishly

"I can see that," Izuku quipped internally laughing at his joke.

"Can you?" Todoroki inquired with feigned innocence, his face the very embodiment of neutrality.

"Of course he can't, Candy Cane!" Kacchan growled, missing the barely contained smile Todoroki sported. "I'm surrounded by idiots," he grumbled, stepping forward to deliver a fist bump to Izuku's shoulder. "Good to see you on your feet, Nerd."

"Yeah?" Izuku retorted with a huff, his focus shifting as another figure stepped forward. "Missed me, did you?"

"Tsk, as if."

"Shadow! I mean, M-Midoriya! I'm glad you're feeling better," Uraraka stammered, her nervousness evident now that she knew who he was.

"Thanks, it's good to finally be out and about," he replied gently, offering her a warm smile.

"Let's give Midoriya-kun some space! We need to act like students befitting our esteemed school!" The wind shifted as the boy’s hand chopped at the empty air, drawing a grin from the students around him.

"I think they get it, Iida," a familiar voice finally piped up, having stayed quiet until then. He could feel his heart stutter and falter for just a moment.

"Hey, you," he grinned, taking a step toward the voice.

“Hey to you too.” Shinsou responded lightly, drawing him against his chest a moment later, his hold gentle and yet walking the line of too tight. Aizawa didn’t make any move to stop him. “Welcome home.” He whispered, waiting a beat for letting go of him and stepping back. Izuku instantly missed the warmth.

"Hate to break up the dramatic reunion or whatever, but come on, I'm not going to freeze my ass off if I can help it," Bakugou pointed out. Yes, Izuku agreed mentally, the pink flush on his cheeks was definitely from the cold, no other reason.

They entered the building without further ado, and Izuku received more greetings and awed stares from the students who had heard the commotion. When Aizawa finally led him to the elevator and up to his apartment on the fifth floor, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. The space was wide and inviting, suffused with the fragrance of freshly painted walls and polished floors.

Approaching what he assumed was a couch, he couldn't help but comment, mirth coloring his tone. "You still have quite a view, Eraser."

"Yeah, well, someone's got to appreciate it, Problem Child," Aizawa replied, his growing grin impossible to hide.

A soft patter of movement approached from the left, and he turned to face the approaching furball. "Ah, our resident rat has found me, has she?" he asked softly, extending an arm for the cat to climb onto. "How's it going, Claw? Did you miss me?" Holding the cat awkwardly with one hand, he managed to place her on his lap, relishing the sensation of her fur against his fingers.

"She's been quite a handful without you around," Aizawa chimed in, settling in on the other side of the couch with a warm cup of coffee. "Mic was taking care of her while we were away." He spoke softly, taking a sip from his steaming beverage.

"You, a nuisance?" Izuku directed to the feline, his tone teasing. “Liars, all of them.” Clawdia meowed as if in complete agreement.

Aizawa mumbled something about favorites in response, though Izuku heard him clearly.

"What would you like for lunch?" the teacher asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"Mm?" Izuku responded distractedly, his fingers still carding through soft fur. "Anything's fine; you know I'm not picky." His years on the streets had made him impossible for him to be so.

Humming, Aizawa rose and walked to the adjoining kitchen to check the fridge, which Mic had stocked in advance. "Katsudon it is," he declared, recalling a conversation from their patrol. Izuku should have expected him to remember. After a moment, he added, "Don't you want to check out your room before we eat? Get settled in a bit?"

"Later," Izuku grumbled, exhaustion creeping over him. "I think I'll let my eyes rest for a while, is that alright?"

"Go ahead. I'll wake you when the food's ready."

As his eyelids grew heavier, tendrils of sleep enveloped him, pulling him into their embrace. Just before consciousness slipped away, a sense of warmth flooded over him, a warmth only associated with safety. "I'm home," his mind whispered.

 

_____________________

 

 

Izuku's rest, for once, was deep and restorative. When he awoke, he found himself surrounded by the comforting silence of Aizawa's apartment. The soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rustle of Clawdia, who had decided to curl up on the couch beside him, filled the air.

Aizawa emerged from the kitchen, a warm and welcoming expression on his face as he carried a tray bearing two steaming bowls of katsudon. The savory aroma of the dish enveloped the room, and Izuku's stomach responded with an eager growl.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Aizawa said, setting the tray down on the coffee table. "Hope you're hungry."

Izuku stretched and rubbed his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips. "I think my stomach just answered that question for you."

They sat down on the couch, and Aizawa handed Izuku his bowl. Before he dug in, Izuku tried to tie up his hair, feeling as though the long curly locks would get in the way. However, the more he tried, the more the task seemed impossible. Huffing slightly, he resisted the urge to snap the small elastic hairtied in half.

Wordlessly, Aizawa rose from his own seat and settled himself next to him, holding out his hands silently,

Sighing in defeat, Midoriya handed the tie over, turning to give him a better ventage point. Was this what life was going to be like from now on? Needing help for the easiest of tasks? Feeling a soft pat on his head, he mumbled out a soft thank you, turning back to his awaiting bowl.

As they began to eat, Izuku struggled once again with his chopsticks, his frustration evident as he tried to grasp the food.

Aizawa, once more his rising agitation, offered softly. "Here, let me help," he said, guiding Izuku's hand to the right position holding the chopsticks, settling the bowl comfortably on the table instead of the boy’s lap. "Just take it slow."

Izuku nodded, his frustration ebbing as he let himself take a moment to breathe. Soon enough, with careful movements, he was able to take small bites and savor the flavors.

"This is amazing," he mumbled between bites, gratitude swelling within him.

Aizawa chuckled. "Glad you like it. It's one of my specialties."

They continued to eat in companionable silence, and Izuku couldn't help but feel the weight of the past month slowly lifting from his shoulders. He'd missed the simple pleasure of sharing a meal with someone, especially someone as familiar and comforting as Aizawa.

After they finished, Aizawa leaned back and let out a satisfied sigh. "Feeling better?"

Izuku nodded, his gaze resting on the warm, cozy apartment. "Guess so. This place feels way better then that chemical abomination."

“I guess with your senses, it really is like that, isn’t it?” The teacher hummed thoughtfully, a sad lilt to his voice. “Maybe I can get you some sensory equipment, a lot of quirks have similar effects.”

“It’s alright, I got used to it a long time ago, Eraser.”

"Being able to live with it doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to, problem child. I want you to feel at home here," Aizawa said, his eyes holding a warmth that matched the ambiance of the apartment.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a real home.” He confessed slowly. Aizawa’s old apartment had been starting to feel that way, but the weight of his secrets had kept him from truly feeling like he belonged.

Aizawa's expression softened even more, and he placed a reassuring hand on Izuku's shoulder. “Well, it’s never too late.”

Izuku felt a rush of gratitude and leaned into the touch. "Thank you, Aizawa."

He squeezed his shoulder once more before he rose from the couch, the empty bowls held in his grasp. "How about I show you your room now?"

Izuku nodded eagerly, and they made their way to the bedroom. Aizawa opened the door, revealing a cozy room with a comfortable-looking bed and a window that allowed soft wind to caress the room through the drawn blinds.

"It's not much, but I hope you find it comfortable," Aizawa said.

Izuku stepped into the room and looked around, his fingers brushing against the textures of the furniture. "It's perfect. Thank you."

As he settled into his new room, surrounded by the familiarity of Aizawa's home, Izuku couldn't help but feel a little hope for the days to come. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, to let himself truly feel, if only for a little while.

Aizawa stood in the doorway, watching Izuku with a sense of quiet satisfaction. "Call me if you need me, as usual, you have access to anything you want, the showers are equipped with the same options as our last place, so don’t hesitate if you want to. And really, I mean it, call me if you need me, no matter when, got it problem child?”

“Yeah, Thanks Eraser, I really appreciate it.” He responded softly. Drawing his medicine from his bag as he settled down on the bed.

“That’s what I’m here for, kid.”

Yes, it wasn’t hard at all, for him to allow a little hope to snake into the cracks of his drawn up wall.

He just hoped that his happiness wouldn’t bring more pain to the people around him.

Maybe he could be selfish, if just for a little while.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10 already up on the link here

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Notes:

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Chapter 10: Overload

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

His fingers glide across the page, feeling the ridges and bumps scrape lightly across his skin as he moves his hand along the lines. He finds that his attention is anything but focused. He'd tried getting some sleep but it looked like his mind just didn't want to shut up. It was something he'd expected, and yet, it didn't change the predicament he found himself in.

New places brought about an entirely new space to get accustomed to. More specifically, new noises, people, and senses to temper down and stifle. It made his head pulse in waves, every sound ricocheting through his skull, grating and scraping on his nerves like chalk on a blackboard. It made him want to scratch at his skin and peel away at his senses.

The worst of it, however, wasn't the pain nor was it the overwhelming stimulations he was being subjected to. No, these sensory overloads were somewhat a familiar part of his life by now, a constant ache he'd learned to suppress.

The thing he could never get used to, however, was an entirely different sensation. One that made him feel as helpless as the day he got his powers.

His hand comes up to fist through his hair, a vain attempt at blocking out the screams echoing in his ears.

Horrifying cries, heart-wrenching and agonizing. Countless shouts, grunts, and pleas. Ones he knew, with sobering clarity, would go desolately unanswered. Sirens and alarms blare and mix with conversation and arguments. The more he tried to block everything out the more they seemed to mesh and blend into a whirlwind of torment and chaos.

It was the helplessness that made it all the worse. It had been some time since he’d felt this useless. This powerless and weak. His body was still recovering and his symptoms had been getting worse. Not to mention the gaping emptiness that now resided in the place of one of his limbs.

It made nights like these unbearable. Shutting the book more aggressively than he intended to, he got to his feet, ignoring the momentary dizziness he felt at the fast movement and moving as swiftly and quietly as he could through the hall of the apartment.

It was late, he could feel it in the pressure of the atmosphere around him. If he concentrated he would say the time ranges between 3 and 4 am. The building hummed with the soft sighs and movements that accompanied the dark skies of the night.

Tilting his head, he searched for Aizawa’s heartbeat, steady and calm as he made his way to the living room. His breathing was uneven and shallow, which hinted at the man's bad habits. Not that Izuku was one to judge given his own unreasonable sleeping schedule.

He was in his room though, which meant that he could sneak away undetected, if only he could stay quiet and stealthy until he was out and free.

Walking like he’d trained himself to do for years, feeling for the best spots to step on, he opened the cupboard near the door, rummaging through the clothes for any kind of bandana. He cursed the league silently for having ruined his costume. Cotton, rough and worn-out shifted beneath his skin and he pulled out what he assumed was a small scarf. He didn't waste any time tying it around his eyes. The familiar weight made something in his chest unwind as he straightened, somehow it was both a comfort and a relief to have his eyes covered. His glasses had been lost during his kidnapping, and he'd felt almost naked without them. Vulnerable and open to every curious pair of eyes he encountered.

Taking a steadying breath, he twisted the handle lightly, wincing at the sound it made as the wood slid open, the soft noise sounding somehow louder in the silence.

Waiting for a beat to make sure Aizawa was still in his room, he hurried to make his exit, surprised that he got away with it that easily.

His movements were slow and unsteady as he made his way down the stairs. Forgoing the elevators in fear of them having some kind of sensors that would alert the teacher of any post-curfew activity.

He cursed his weak body as exhaustion snaked into his muscles with the barest of efforts. He was supposed to be stronger than this, he knew. It seemed that almost dying wasn’t something one could just shrug off and move on from so easily.

His chest heaved as he made it down another level, lungs stuttering with the need for oxygen, sucking greedily at the air around him.

The great shadow, bested by some stairs. They could mark it on his gravestone, he supposed.

One more flight and he was out, he reminded himself determinedly. His hand slid across the wall for support as he finally reached the ground level.

Maybe he could take a break, he thought tiredly, legs trembling with the effort to stay standing.

With shaky movements, he lowered himself onto the last steps, the ache of his muscles flaring as he settled down. Was this how it was going to be from now on? Could he not help anyone anymore?

He knew it was inevitable, even expected for his body to be this weak after the trauma and surgeries he'd been through. The severity of his injuries alone would have put anyone out of commission for a while, adding that with a few weeks in a coma, you get a pathetic excuse of a vigilante.

Taking out his phone, he left a message for the police department, hoping that if he couldn’t get there, that someone else would at least try.

He stayed there, curled on the last step, his one arm encircling his knees as he listened for the young woman he’d heard crying out. His heart ached at her pained gasps, he could feel her pain with every breath that rattled through her ribcage as she crawled away from the alley she’d been attacked in. His nails dug into his palm as he heard her skin scrape against the asphalt. She was breathing, he reminded himself with difficulty. She was still alive. He tried to get up, determination pushing away at his exhaustion and pain as he leaned on the wall beside him for support. It was then that he heard it, the tell-tale sound of sirens approaching the scene. Relief, all-encompassing and strong washed over him as he fell back onto the stairs. Tension seeped out of his frame as he heard the medics rush in to help the woman.

Guilt seared into his veins, then. If he hadn’t been so stubborn, maybe he could have gotten her help sooner. Tears sprung to his eyes unbidden and he all but ripped the scarf away from his head, pulling at his hair in the process. Frustration and self-loathing spilled from his mouth in a low grunt as he tried to compose himself.

He doesn’t know how long he stays there. He doesn’t feel the time pass, nor does he care to focus enough to notice it, mind lost in the haze of sensations that crash onto him over and over again like the roaring waves of a turbulent ocean.

Later, after what feels like hours, he hears the betraying sound of footsteps rushing through the flights above him. The erratic heartbeat that escorts it makes his guilt stir to life. He burrows his head deeper in between his knees, hand pulling at his hair in a fruitless effort to hide himself from the lecture to come. He hears the rapid movements screech to a halt as his guardian finally reaches the stairs Izuku is currently occupying. Feels the stammer of relief that surely makes the man's heart stutter and settle as he talks into the phone currently being held to his ear. "Never mind-" he says, voice a little breathless. "I found him." He promptly hangs up after that, cutting off Nezu’s response before the rodent can finish voicing his affirmation. Izuku almost wants to laugh at the huff of indignation he hears from another building a little ways away.

“What are you doing out here?” Aizawa’s voice is rough and low as he descends the last steps until he’s looming right over Izuku’s huddled form. “Do you have any idea wh-“He cuts himself off, for some reason, crouching down closer to the boy. ”Are you okay?” His tone is softer now. It makes Izuku want to yell at him instead. To shout and rage as if to physically pull back the anger he’d heard in his voice before.

He knew anger, he thought bitterly. He could deal with anger, he deserved it, after all. But the worry? The pity, and the softness? That, he couldn’t bear.

“Izuku, hey, can you hear me?” The man continues worriedly. Izuku flinches away from the hand that tries to settle on his shoulder before he can stop himself. He feels the hero’s arms hover uncertainly before dropping back to his side. “Sorry, sorry. Is it-“ He seemed to work out his next words carefully. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

His voice blares like bells in his ears, making him want to bury his head further in between his shoulders. Each tiny sound was an agonizing wail to his senses. Some of his discomfort must show if the way the man's next words are whispered is of any indication. "Sensory overload." He mutters, more to himself.

"Alright, come on," He murmurs in a soft voice and gets up as if to emphasize the words. "Can I touch you?" Any contact with his skin right now would be agony, he knows. His own clothes felt like needles piercing his flesh with every minuscule move he took. And so he finally shakes his head, a small aborted movement that Aizawa would have missed if he wasn't so focused on the boy sitting before him. "Okay, then please try and stand up. Sitting here all night won't do you any favors." His arms hover over him once more, ready to catch him if the need arises.

It takes Izuku embarrassingly long to get his feet to cooperate but eventually, he feels steady enough to move. Their walk is slow and careful as they make their way to the elevators and up to their apartment. Aizawa remains silent throughout the journey, a quiet, steady presence at his side as they finally cross the door into the living room. “Sit down, I’ll be right back.” He says before marching back into his room. Izuku can hear him opening a cupboard but doesn't bother to listen for more. Feeling more exhausted than he ought to be, for only having taken a trip down the stairs.

The man comes back a minute later, multiple items held in between his arms. He doesn't realize what's happening until a pair of headphones are settled comfortably on his ears, followed by a soft, silky blanket that's unceremoniously dropped onto his shoulders. He figures it's a noise canceling device, for even if he can still hear clearly, he can tell the sounds are a little more muffled, distant. It makes enough of a difference that he can let some of the tension seep out of him. The sound stimulus settles into a manageable background noise.

The blanket for its part is so soft he almost wants to cocoon himself in it. Barely resisting the urge to replace the scratchy shirt that hugs his form with it.

Gratitude swells in him as the man doesn't push him to talk and instead just settles on the seat in front of him. He waited patiently for his senses to settle and stabilize.

“I’m alright,” Izuku says eventually when the world doesn't feel like it’s on fire anymore. “You can ask… I won’t break.”

“How did you know I wanted to ask anything?” Aizawa challenges, voice steady and still as soft as a whisper.

"You're breath hitched and I could feel your vocal cords moving." He explained just as quietly. "Plus, I figured you would have questions given that I wasn't in my room and it's currently way past curfew."

“Does this happen a lot?”

He doesn’t know how to properly explain it, “Yes, and no.” He settles for. “New places tend to hit harder, but sometimes everything gets a little too much, you know?” he fiddles with the blanket lightly.

“Your room was supposed to be partially soundproofed. Do the noise cancellers help at all?” His worry is clear in his tone as he leans a little forward.

“They muffle some of the distant noise, but I- I can still hear pretty clearly.” He explains in turn.

“Is it just the hearing that’s overwhelming?” Aizawa asks suddenly, “I know there’s tactile stimulation that’s bothering you too, you’re aversion to touch was enough of a tell, but what about your other senses?”

He doesn't know what to feel as the man reads him so openly and obviously. Squirming in his seat, he raises his feet until they're tucked snugly under him. "You're right, it's not just the hearing. It's everything, really." He takes in a breath. "All my senses are heightened, and so I get stimulus from taste and smell, along with my hearing and my touch. The only respite I get is my eyes, but you already knew that." He explained.

"Just how powerful are your senses?" The question seemed to be aimed at no one in general as if the man was wondering out loud. Izuku answers anyway.

"I can taste the coffee you had a few hours ago, three cups. I know you put one sugar in each and that you overestimated the level of water you mixed into the last one." He started, the words pouring out of him, now that he got himself going. "I know that you haven't eaten anything since lunch yesterday, but that you had four of your jelly pouches, three strawberry and an apple one." He could feel the man shift uncomfortably but carried on. "I can also tell that the clothes you're wearing have been freshly washed, but that you spilled some ink on your sleeve not too long ago, and that you already tried to wash it out, but the fabric still smells of both the ink and the soap you used.” He really needed to stop. But his mouth just kept going. “I can hear the argument of a couple living a few of blocks away, I can hear the homeless old man that sometimes sleeps on the bench looking out on the park near the school. I can tell it’s going to rain in a few hours from the vibrations and temperature changes of the air around us. And I can hear the video game Kaminari is currently playing instead of getting some sleep just as clearly as I could hear a woman begging for help not even an hour ago. I could hear her heart getting weaker and weaker as she tried her hardest to get to safety, and I can still hear the sirens that blared as the medics finally got to her after I called in her location.” He’s breathing hard, he knows. But he can’t stop himself. He just can’t stop. “I can hear the bones shifting in your body when you move and I can hear just how fast your heart is beating right now, I'm scaring you, I know you think I’m some sort of freak-“Before he can finish his sentence, two arms encircle him, enveloping his body with a sudden warmth that makes the words get stuck in his throat.

“I’m sorry.” Aizawa whispers. "I'm sorry I never realized before." He says again, sincerity dripping from his words, arms tightening their hold around him. The contact is grounding despite the stimuli it gives him. His body relaxes into the hold before he can stop himself, practically melting into the older man's heat. "You're not a freak and you're not scaring me. You could never." One of his hands comes up to rest on his head and the fingers that rake through his hair make his entire body relax. "I'm sorry you didn't feel like you could tell me about it, before tonight." He pulls away slightly, then. "I'll talk to the support department, I'll ask if they can make you stronger noise cancelers and other sensory regulators. And I promise you, Izuku, you don’t need to try and go out on your own anymore.” He continues, oblivious to the world that currently rearranging itself around his charge. “Next time you hear someone in need of help, please, come to me, or call Tsukauchi, or any of the other teachers. It’s okay to ask for help. I promise it is.”

The tears he's been fighting to keep in check finally burst out of his eyes. Exhaustion wells up inside of him as he lets himself go. He felt as though a weight had been taken off his shoulders. One so heavy he could physically feel his body sway with its absence.

Aizawa stays near him through it all, his heartbeat a steady presence, serving to ground him to reality as he lets sleep creep into his consciousness. The last thing he feels before passing out is the blanket being settled around him as the man tucks his feet fully onto the couch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11 already up in the link on my insta bio!

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