Chapter Eight: Selfish Donations
White walls and impatience - the two melded into an absurdly comforting symphony for those unlucky enough to be caught between the sterile sheets of any hospital. Ayumi had only felt the sensation twice in her life: once at seven, and again somewhere within her teen years. Age was hard to keep track of time living the way she did, her body in the shadows but mind in the clouds. The wide eyed girl remembered experiences rather than age, appreciating sensation over the mere thought of antiquity.
"Ayumi!" Said girl snapped out of her daze upon hearing the irritated voice of her mentor. Recovery Girl wasn't amused, to say the least, at Ayumi's spaciness in that moment, further chastising her: "Wake up!"
"How's the patient?"
"You tell me, Ayumi."
"Seems stable. Broken arm is healing, but we can't do anything for his migraine."
"Are you dumb? If you're going to intern with me, give a hundred percent! What would you do to treat it?" This scowling, gremlin-like version of Recovery Girl was nothing like the gentle woman Ayumi met at Hosu General. Sure, the lady clearly had a fire in her eyes, but Ayumi never imagined such fire was capable of becoming fiery rage she was presented with.
Ayumi, tired of the pint sized lady's yapping, lazily droned on. "I could amplify a neural depressant to calm some of his excited nerve cells, but I really don't see the point if he's going to get over it in a few hours." Although she was comfortable while speaking, a wave of unease hit her as she slowly lowered her gaze to the fuming medical hero next to her.
"OUT! Get out of my infirmary until you are serious about learning young lady!" Recovery Girl forced Ayumi out of the room (not before shoving a textbook on biochemistry in her arms), slamming the door behind the disinterested girl. It was rather ironic that the sickly girl was being shoved out of the infirmary, as she sported the appearance of one in dire need of intensive care. Sighing, Ayumi took a seat to the right of the door, her thoughts wandering effortlessly. Initially, the perceptive girl was shocked at how easily she picked up medical work - specifically medicines and anesthetics - but it wasn't surprising considering her quirk's perfect compatibility with both fields. It seemed to be the one thing she was good at; she hated that it was. And so, as her thoughts drifted, Ayumi couldn't help but think of Aizawa's reasoning when he roped her into helping out in the infirmary.
—
"Why does the old lady need help? Aren't cut up students the type of stuff she lives for?" Ayumi got a smack to the head for the snide comment, but the girl refused to lift her glare directed at the eraser hero sitting at the desk across from her. It was just after hours, Ayumi's designated time for furiously playing cards with the indigo kid. Ayumi in no way felt guilty, as the arrangement was flexible, another silent agreement she and her partner had come to. Knowing just enough was sort of the pair's motto as they played, twice or three times a week, speaking maybe twice or three times a game. She valued that type of relationship - but of course, would never admit it.
"Shut up, brat. You wanted to train your quirk, right? Well this is how we're going to do it."
"So now I'm going to miss a whole week of school just to practice on irresponsible kids?!"
"Yes, and that's final. Recovery Girl will teach you how to apply different stimulants and depressants in a medical situation. Hopefully it'll give you a better grasp on how your quirk works and how to control it."
"But-"
Aizawa's stern glare was enough to cut Ayumi's protests short, his heavy eyes overpowering her wide and reddened ones. The man did a double take when he saw anger bubble up within her glare, replacing it's naturally cold nature, yet his questions were left unanswered when Ayumi stormed off. Then again, most questions were left and kept that way with the stoic girl...
—
And now they're all having a field day while I'm over here having the time of my life. Yay.
Before she split from the class that morning like she had been for the past two days, Aizawa announced his plans for rescue training off campus. The facility was run by a special guest, one that it was clear Ayumi wouldn't get to meet as she was pushed out of her classroom by Aizawa, a smirk playing at his features making his enjoyment of her suffering clear. Ayumi's curiosity had been sparked and immediately extinguished by the man in black, his lack of a soul she was somehow astonished yet simultaneously unsurprised by. Consequently, Ayumi was now sitting on the hallway floor, mildly enjoying the solitude she had acquired for herself by pushing her new mentor's buttons.
In a way, Ayumi was grateful to have an excused week away from Aizawa's nightmare of a class. The anxiety she harbored regarding her position as 21st in the class was always immense; the thought of anyone finding out about her stupidity haunted her. She knew that the others neither knew her nor understood her, but that they all had a grasp on what bottom of the grade scale meant. Aizawa was the only one within 1-A's four walls that knew why Ayumi struggled with third grade educational content; the fact that she couldn't surpass the ditzy electric kid agitated her to no end. So, Ayumi appreciated an ego-boosting break, even if she was bugged by her inability to read more than half the words in the textbook set out before her.
Diazepam, mephobarbital, chlordiazepoxide HCl... Page after page of content that managed to be incredibly dull, yet incredibly satisfying was absorbed by the wide eyed girl. Ayumi could feel the molecules she coursing through her cardiovascular system as she read them. Her heart, she knew, was practically a gold mine for such substances, embedded in the tissue and cavities naturally. She'd never be able to become a praised organ donor, giving her well used appendages up for another to use well; Ayumi would be cut up on an autopsy table, medical researchers probing her medically miraculous body parts. The probability of her body being undisturbed before the funeral was incredibly low, however, it didn't matter, as her physical form would finally be as hollow as her soul, rightfully so. The toxic blood abusing her poor vessels would be extracted - not for donations to the ordinary or to treasure her memory, instead most likely to conduct experimental procedures and tests that would otherwise be ludicrous. And this would all be graciously donated to the system that hadn't done anything for her up until about a week ago! It was selfish of the system, yes, but it would be more selfish for Ayumi to refuse.
Ring!
Ayumi didn't need a special quirk to hear the infirmary's phone abruptly ring while hanging on the other side of the wall she was slumped against. Her mentor (from what she could gather by ear) scrambled off of her stool and straight to the phone. From what Ayumi understood, the infirmary was only contacted by landline if medical attention was needed on site.
"Oh, hello?...Yes, this is she...oh! I'm on my way!" The phone was slammed back into its receiver, heavy pants and shuffling about the room following.
Ayumi's imagination worked at the idea of what type of emergency caused Recovery Girl to react so severely. Against her better judgement, the girl with green skin cautiously pulled the door open a crack, peering into the once quiet infirmary. Bloodshot eyes bulging, Ayumi was presented with a frantic Recovery Girl moving from corner to corner of the room, stuffing a bag with as much gauze and rubbing alcohol as she possibly could. Upon the sight, Ayumi popped another stabilizer pill, her intuition telling her she'd need it for what the next hour or so would have in store for her.
"Ayumi! Get back in here right now!"
"Yes?" Stiffly, Ayumi entered the room, the white walls and impatience not harmonizing as they once were. "Is there something yo-"
"Grab this bag now. We're going to have to run to the front entrance." The preoccupied old lady shoved the overstuffed medical pack in Ayumi's arms, grabbing a few vials of liquid before pushing Ayumi out of the room once again, this time following her. The medical hero was on a jog, Ayumi easily keeping pace as she was led through the labyrinth like UA halls. Although whatever the situation was seemed to be serious, Ayumi couldn't help but feel exhilarated - her nerves easily excited. The brunette couldn't amplify adrenaline, yet her levels were extremely high as the two ran down through the school.
"So, what's the deal?"
"That field trip your classmates went on was attacked by villains. They're greatly outnumbered, so there are bound to be some injuries. I'll need you to put people out of pain and apply basic first aid where it's needed, while I take care of any more serious injuries." A worried frown was set on Recovery Girl's features, the creases in her waxy skin appearing more prominent than usual. Ayumi knew Recovery Girl worked at every case relentlessly, and she didn't doubt this emergency wouldn't be different.
"Got it, boss." For a split second, Ayumi thought she saw a small smirk upon the medical hero's lips, but if it was, any sign of a smile was gone just as quick. If Ayumi had dwelled in her thoughts, she would've found that she didn't want her peers' smiles to fade either.
—
USJ was a wreck - more so than usual. The disaster sites were bathed in blood and in utter disarray, bodies scattered and mangled. The carnage was horrific; somehow Ayumi heard her blood pounding in her ears over shrill screams and cries of pain. Villains ran amuck, students fought back, heroes rushed in - Ayumi was rushing in. Her legs moved before she could process what was happening, Ayumi bolting towards a cluster in the front with Recovery Girl. She recognized the faces of her classmates, but not the fear that twisted them. Some of them looked to her, either in confusion or relief (it was unclear to Ayumi) as she took her place at her mentor's side.
Recovery Girl had crouched down near a figure clothed in a spacesuit lying on the ground, the back torn completely off. The old lady's eyes were calculative as she scanned the body, muttering, "Dammit, dammit..." However, Recovery Girl took a deep breath, and declared, "Thirteen, it's Recovery Girl. I'm here now, so you can calm down." The steadiness of her tone shocked Ayumi, who was sweating bullets. The flesh on Thirteen's back had been ripped completely off, muscle exposed for the world to see. Blood, guts, gore - it was a doctor's dream and nightmare all at once. Ayumi was no stranger to grisly images, but no amount of preparation could've prepared her for the state Thirteen's back was in.
"Ayumi! Gauze, now!"
"Got it." Ayumi shoved a roll into Recovery Girl's hands, the woman busy trying to cover the bleeding lacerations stretching up and down Thirteen's back.
Recovery Girl grunted, applying as much pressure as possible. Not sparing Ayumi a glance, she demanded, "Your quirk works on narcotics too, right?" When Ayumi nodded in reply, Recovery Girl handed her one of the vials from earlier. "Take this and inject it into her wrist. Amplify it enough to make her numb and a little loopy because we're still going to need her awake. Then go somewhere where your help is needed."
Without hesitation, Ayumi grabbed a syringe and loaded with the narcotic she presumed to be morphine. Somehow, the stench of Ayumi's pain killer of choice managed to overpower the vapid blood that hung in the air, a stone weight crushing any within reach. Using all her strength, she ripped off the sleeve of the suit, exposing Thirteen's arm. Flesh hit flesh as Ayumi scanned for an open vein to pump a small dose of the pain killer, her green fingers poking and prodding the hero's arm. After a few seconds, she found one, and pushed a small amount out of the syringe, using her quirk to multiply it tenfold. Onlookers could see the army of morphine hit Thirteen's nervous system, the once rigid hero visibly relaxing under the numbing agent. Letting out a breath, Ayumi backed away from the unconscious hero, ignoring the yells of her classmates to her.
The focused girl gave her mentor one last look, calling out, "Good luck, Recovery Girl!"
"Likewise dear!"
Ayumi's eyes swept the area, looking for those more severely injured. It was all she could do to focus on one thing at a time, Ayumi fingering her snake bites to keep herself concentrated. From the top of the steps the wide eyed girl could see a large commotion in the middle of the facility, many villains and students clustered. The clustering of opposing forces meant one thing and one thing only: trouble. She didn't know what was pushing her to move, but Ayumi was flying over to the scene, medical pack slung over her shoulder. With the morphine, she'd be able to treat those who needed painful procedures on sight - the type she wasn't authorized to but was willing to perform. Ayumi knew she had to have confidence so the others would too, no matter how much pain they were in.
What Ayumi wasn't prepared to see, however, was Aizawa, limp in his students' arms being rushed off of the scene. And suddenly, Ayumi felt like her isolation was crowding her, as all she could see in Aizawa's place was her brother, calling out for her, a deep gash splitting his forehead in half. This time, the smell of morphine couldn't overpower the metallic flavored fumes blood brought. Before she was far gone (she noticed her quirk started with hallucinations to scare her into a worse state), Ayumi slapped herself. The hallucination was gone, replaced by the man in black she had grown accustomed to.
Ayumi felt cold and clammy, the second usual symptoms that her organic quirk was setting in. She had the stabilizers in her pocket earlier, but couldn't seem to locate them in her pockets. However, her quirk seemed to be taking effect more slowly than usual, which gave her time to take care of Aizawa before she herself was incapacitated. The brunette would have to look into it later, as the two classmates neared her. She called out, "Hey! Set him down over here!"
"You sure? We were told to get him to Recovery Girl." The frog girl spoke, both caution and fear evident on her features. She had one of her large hands placed over his right eye, Aizawa's dark blood escaping through the girl's fingers and running down the side of her arm like a waterfall. The kid with the purple balls for hair walked behind her, eyes combing over her figure relentlessly as he left the girl to carry his share of the weight too. Ayumi was appalled; crisis situations brought out the best and worst in people, the two standing before her prime examples of both.
Ayumi beckoned for the frog girl to come closer, yelling at the purple kid, "Get outta here! You're unneeded, you useless perv!" The drooling boy was shocked out of his comfortable daze staring at the frog girl by Ayumi's livid tone. He scampered away before he got hit by the shoe Ayumi threw his way. "Jeez! Thinks he can stare at you...and then get glory for helping...nope...not in my house..." Ayumi was seething under her breath as she set up a sheet to lay Aizawa on.
"Thanks, y'know for getting Mineta away."
"Whatever. He looked at you like you were a piece of meat, when you're clearly frog." Did a joke just slip past her lips? Ayumi didn't have time to reflect on her odd responses to panic, the girl spitting a flurry of directions out to the other: "Ok, I need you to lightly wrap his eye with this bandage, and stop holding so much pressure. His cheekbone is shattered, and we don't want the pieces to migrate somewhere else in his body before Recovery Girl gets here. I'm going to put him into a state of comatose with my quirk." Ayumi's hands were shaky, another sign of her quirk taking over, as she pulled the syringe with morphine back out. A spasm suddenly overtook her hand, causing her to fling the syringe to the ground, morphine and glass littering the space next to Aizawa's head. Ayumi was used to such repercussions after using her quirk, but it was hard to continue with the stabilizers wearing off at the same time.
"Are you okay, Bubaigawara?"
"It's Ayumi. Look, I'm gonna need you to wipe up some of this morphine with gauze and place it in my mouth." She hesitated, before further divulging, "My quirk constantly affects my nervous system because of how many different stimulants and depressants my blood contains. I have hallucinations and sweat a lot, and the spasms come when I actually use the quirk." Ayumi was shaking, the symphony of spasms resembling convulsions almost. She continued: "Because narcotics and some other drugs are compiled of stimulating and depressing molecules, can control them but don't organically produce them. I don't need a lot of morphine, but once I get it in my system I'm going to amplify it and get myself high so I can concentrate. You need to keep me awake and on task." Although she seemed worried, the frog girl nodded, placing the morphine soaked gauze into Ayumi's mouth.
Ayumi's throat burned, the morphine lashing at her esophagus and all the like. She spit the gauze out disgustedly, the temptation to spit her breakfast out with it was strong as well. Her metabolism was on overdrive, so she could feel the morphine spill into her blood after a couple of minutes. Immediately, the green girl put her fingers to her already bruised left wrist, deepening the vessel breaks further. Amplifying the narcotic, Ayumi visibly relaxed, the spasms and shaking stopping. A familiar buzz set in over everything; color drained from the scene rapidly. Ayumi would've sat there for hours, appreciating the beauty of the chaos, but the tap on her shoulder brought her out of her daze.
"Ayumi! We need to get working!" Ayumi snapped out of the stupor she was in, touching Aizawa's neck in search of the carotid artery. The girl hadn't studied under Recovery Girl for long, but she did have a map of the cardiovascular and nervous systems in her head thanks to the elderly woman's teachings. Upon finding it, Ayumi transferred some of the morphine from her blood to his by placing her fingers on his neck. He bruised, a tell tale sign the transfer succeeded. Ayumi continued, forcing the narcotic to multiply at her will. Although the man was limp before, once Ayumi finished shutting his brain off, his breathing became steady and even, as if he were sleeping peacefully. No sign of pain evident in his face, Ayumi scanned his body over for any other injuries.
"His external injuries look fine, except for that elbow you already wrapped up. I put him to sleep with morphine...so he should be out of pain too. It'll wear off in a few hours..." The drugged girl was having trouble staying awake, the frog girl next to her taking note. Before she could speak, however, Ayumi hazily requested, "Please take Aizawa to the front. I'm going to have to stabilize some of the others. Tell Recovery Girl." Her partner nodded, lifting their teacher onto her back once again and hopping away.
Ayumi sighed, relieved she didn't have to be haunted by her teacher's fragile appearance any longer. The girl couldn't tell what was happening around her, her eyes sluggishly moving from person to person as the girl slowly forgot why she was at the facility at all. Everyone looked so bad, but the intoxicated girl felt so good, the morphine alleviating and pain in her body and mind. Stumbling forward, Ayumi caught sight of a familiar face, the scar above his right eye unmistakably his. In her state, she couldn't put a name to the face, but she did see that he saw her too, the good natured boy running in her direction. Was he concerned or was it fear again? Ayumi couldn't tell.
But the dazed girl's image of him became blurred as she was thrown across the facility, her body making painful contact with the wall.