I'm very happy about all your reviews for the last chapter. I was super nervous, because I always fret over the chapters I plan the longest, but it was really well received. Thanks so much for your support!
I hope you all had a great start into the New Year. Hopefully this will be a bit better than last year. (Hopefully it will also be the year for me to finally finish this story). I feel like I'm about to start the last chunk of this story, but it will still be a lot to go through and a lot of different plotthreads to tie together. Even this post-attack recovery will take longer than I planned, because there's so much to go through. So, I hope you won't be bored.
Focus
Voices.
He couldn't quite place them. They spoke fast, and there was a ringing in his ear that made it impossible to understand a single word— never mind recognize one. A particular voice managed to burst through the tinnitus in his ears. He knew that person… Maki!
The girl… and the boy… Right. He remembered now. He had to protect them. What was he doing here, lying around? Surely, he was crushing them!
He hadn't even finished the thought when he clawed his way back to consciousness, fighting to get up. Something pressed against his chest. More voices. The weight increased. Dragging him down, pushing and pulling him back on his back. Not as heavy as before, he thought, fighting against it.
"Hold still. Stop it!" A bodiless voice commanded. "Help me, help me keep him down!"
More force weighed against his chest. He realized something was shifting around him. Moving… He fought against it. He couldn't allow himself to lose…
Something pressed over his face. He felt himself slipping again, fighting against the desire to go back under…
The next time he woke up, it was less violent to silent whispers in the vicinity.
"…gnosis when we can schedule a surgery. The hospital is at maximum capacity as it is."
"But he's badly injured. What about his arm and foot? And he's been impaled through the back!"
Dull ache all over his body and bone deep exhaustion, wanted to pull him back under, but he fought against it. Enji blinked against the ceiling. The room was only dimly lit, and there was darkness behind the big window where blue curtains were half drawn. Muffled, he heard sirens from outside.
"His vitals are stable. We have treated the wound in his torso, as I already informed you. The treatment of his arm and leg, however, don't have priority right now. I'm sorry."
"So what should I do? I can't just wait around! What if it doesn't heal right?"
"We will look for the earliest possible time for the surgery. I'm confident that we can do the operation before any damage becomes permanent. You can, of course, try to consult other doctors. However— as you know, after the attack, the entire medical sector of Musutafu has reached its limits."
"You're telling me, there's nothing I can do?"
"I'm sorry. You've seen the situation outside. And I need to see to the other patients."
Pause.
"Of course. I… Thank you."
Slowly, he became aware of his environment. The constant beeping of the heart monitor, the soft mattress and thin blanket, the cool air in the room. There was a small ficus next to the window.. Another blue curtain – in the same shade as the ones in front of the window – hid him from the rest of the room.
Enji, now, also took note of his personal situation. His right arm and left leg were splinted. Most of his skin was tightly bandaged. Cables connected him to the monitors measuring his vitals. Every attempt to move made his body feel weak and sluggish.
"Fuyumi," he whispered, having recognized her voice.
His own felt scratchy. Dry and weak, as if he hadn't had anything to drink in days. It was barely audible over the quiet buzz coming from outside the room.
"Oh my god," she breathed, rounding the curtains to look at him. "You're awake!" There was relief in her voice and tears welling up in her eyes.
Enji frowned at her tears. What was she crying about? There was no reason to cry. At least, he hoped there wasn't.
"Maki?" he asked quietly. "Izumo?" He wanted to say more, but that alone made his throat ache with a need for water.
Fuyumi laughed a teary-eyed, hiccupping chuckle. "They brought them to a different hospital. Izumo's mother called. They'll be fine." Despite the good news she shared, she was still crying silently, wiping the tears away with the end of her sleeve. More kept coming.
"Stop that," Enji said. The crying made him uncomfortable. He tried using his better hand to push himself upright into a sitting position. Fuyumi was at his side at once, trying to push him back down. "Let me…" he pleaded, but she resolutely pushed him back into the cushion.
"You should rest. Don't aggravate your injuries. Your body is already damaged enough."
He scoffed at her. He had heard well enough that his broken bones hadn't been treated yet, but he also doubted sitting up – or really anything he could do – could worsen his injuries beyond what the crumbling building had done.
"I don't like lying around uselessly," he admitted. He didn't normally have any problems with hospitals, but in these last months he'd spent too much time in them. First after the Noumu attack, then Natsuo's kidnapping, and several shorter stays in between. He'd thought, now that he'd lost his license, at least he wouldn't need that anymore. But of course, leave it to him… He couldn't even spend a normal life as a civilian without getting himself half-killed.
Had he found the kids earlier and just ran…
Too slow again!
He gritted his teeth at the Fuyumi pushed more resolutely, he gave in and flopped back on his back. The impact made him bristle at the sharp ache in his injuries. His entire body stiffened with the new wave of pain, until the tension only gradually eased off him. Pathetic! What would she think of him?
"Thanks, Dad." Her voice was very quiet. "Not just for Izumo and Maki… I-I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't…" Her voice gave, with the horrific thought that her children might have died. "But they're all fine, now." She shook her head, her tears suddenly intensifying. "I mean… Oh, they've seen such horrible things!" Her shoulders shuddered. "I just wanted a nice trip. They were looking forward to this all month. Something fun for the end of term! But now…?"
"Fuyumi," he tried to interrupt, but his voice was too weak for her to hear.
"—they'll be traumatized. What should I tell them? How should I even face them after that, or their parents?"
"Fuyumi!" he repeated, forcing his voice to rise above hers. The effort made him cough harshly. He wheezed.
"Father!" she exclaimed, shocked at his coughing fit. At least that got her attention.
"You did well, Fuyumi," he told her.
She shook her head, as she went around the bed, avoiding his eye-contact. "No, you did. I just froze. I didn't do anything." On his other side, she took a water bottle off his bed-side table offering him something to drink. He drank gladly, but only a little, before the awkward horizontal position made him cough and almost spit some water out again.
"You stayed with them. You could have run off, saved yourself. But you stayed with them to the very end." He looked right at her, willing her to believe it.
"I didn't do anything for Maki or Izumo," she muttered. "When Izumo's mom called, I half-expected her to yell at me."
Enji saw how she fisted one of her hands. It was trembling slightly. "You weren't the only adult there. You had to look out for the other 16. I asked you to let me find those two." And I should've been faster! "You did good," he repeated one more time.
"Because of you."
"And who asked me to be there?" He lifted his hand to give her a friendly pat, but he couldn't quite reach her shoulder without having to sit up, and he didn't want to fight her over that again. Before his hand could uselessly drop to his side, she took it in hers, pressing tight.
"I'm tired," he admitted.
"And you should sleep."
He didn't fight her over it. When he fell back asleep, he wondered if she would stay with him or if he would wake up alone. He felt a little selfish, wanting her to stay. She had her entire class to take care of. And who knew if Shoto was injured. Shoto…
When he woke up again, Fuyumi wasn't there anymore. There was bright daylight flooding in through the window. He must have slept for hours. The sun was already going down again. He rose himself with a deep, disoriented breath, as he realized he wasn't alone in the room and hadn't woken up naturally. A nurse and doctor were standing over him, waiting for him to notice them.
In a business-like tone the doctor introduced herself as Aibara. "Your daughter asked us to schedule your surgery as early as possible. If you are ready, we can do it right now." The doctor was a young woman. She couldn't be long out of medical school, he thought absentmindedly. "I apologize for the rushed manner of things." Her business-tone only thinly concealed her exhaustion. She must've been working for hours already.
"It's alright," he muttered. "I can imagine. What're the casualties from the attack?"
The doctor frowned slightly, as if not expecting the question. Then, her shoulders dropped with a small sigh and she righted a pair of round glasses on her nose. "I believe we can talk about this at a more opportune time. For now, I would like to inform you of your injuries and what we are about to do. We don't have as much time as I would like..."
"Go on," he told her when her voice started trailing off. Clearly, this situation was hard on her.
The doctor nodded, then sent the nurse to prepare for the surgery as she started explaining Enji's injuries to him. An open fracture of the ulna and radius; the bones in his right arm had snapped clean through. His wrist suffered severe bruising and contusions, but was surprisingly still intact. He had three broken fingers. Plus, he had a spall fracture of the left ankle, which was apparently a much more delicate matter. His entire foot was bruised black and blue, as were his backside and ribs. The skin on both arms would heal, but it would leave bad scars — not that he cared. He had a concussion too, and… Apparently his impaled torso was taken care of much better than he had thought. In fact, it hardly hurt anymore, and he suspected somebody must have applied some emergency quirk-healing.
There were a few more minor injuries, but he was overall doing better than he had feared.
"You were lucky," she told him as she finished. "The steel rod didn't hit any vital organs and we could already treat the bowel perforation while you were unconscious." She gave him a slight nod, her eyes travelling down his body before returning to her sheet of paper. "As for your other injuries, it seems your training helped deal with the trauma and stress on your bones much better than could be expected. Your injuries will leave scars but otherwise we're hoping for a full recovery."
He blushed, as she measured him with her eyes. "Do I have to sign anywhere for the surgery?" he asked, to bring the conversation back to the operation she had already explained to him.
"Yes. Now that you are awake, we need your consent for any further treatment." She turned around, where the nurse appeared behind her with an official-looking form in her hand. "Hamatsu here will explain the rest. We will get you in thirty minutes."
When he woke up from the operation, he felt cold all over. He didn't remember feeling this cold all his life. Instinctively, he reached for his inner fire, trying to heat his body up – but he had difficulty getting a grasp on it. He was shivering violently. Then he fell back asleep.
During his operation – or maybe later when he had been asleep – they'd pushed a second patient into his room. It was an odd experience, waking up to the young man staring at him from the bed on the other side of the curtain. Somebody had apparently pushed the curtains open and had forgotten to pull them shut again. When was the last time he'd shared a hospital room with somebody else?
The surprise must've been clear on his face.
"Oh, believe me, I'm surprised too, to be in a room with Endeavor, of all people," the man commented, grinning queerly. There was a bandage covering half his face. "Bet your money buys you privileges. Single room, privacy and stuff." Despite his choice of words, he didn't sound mocking or judgmental. "Not now, nuh-uh. The whole hospital's full." There was something haunted in his eyes as he averted them to stare at the ceiling. "It's like war out there."
As he turned his head, Enji could see his unbandaged profile. Soft jawline, round face… he seemed much younger than Enji had thought. Still a teenager, Enji reckoned, probably barely even an adult. As old as Natsuo.
Enji was about to move when he realized the array of machines he was connected to, monitoring his vitals. His limbs were wrapped in thick gauze.
"Yeah, I wouldn't move around." The guy turned back to him. "Looks like it would hurt." He scratched his bandages as if they irritated him. "I'm surprised to see you here. Didn't see you fight, but you're clearly injured."
Enji hadn't fought; he should have. He should have done more! License or not, he had the power to do something and he hadn't done anything to help take down the Noumu.
"Well, I didn't see much anyway." Apparently, the boy didn't mind that he wasn't getting an answer. He kept talking, as if that was the only thing left to do. "When that second Noumu attacked, Death Arms dragged me away. Don't know if he got my mom too." Enji's brows furrowed at the implication.
The boy never stopped his incessant babbling. It wasn't even about the attack anymore, just random stuff. Overcompensating, Enji thought numbly, but he let him drone on, letting the background noise soothe him back to sleep. He still felt groggy from the anesthetic and painkillers. As soon as he saw a doctor, he'd ask them to lower the dosage, or drop it entirely if he could convince them to.
Shoto visited the next morning right after the doctor left – and they agreed to lower the dosage, at least. His son didn't look happy when he saw him. Enji hadn't expected that, of course, but there was something about his tense shoulders that spoke of deep-rooted stress.
Enji didn't want to ask. He didn't know if he should ask.
"I'm doing well," he told Shoto as soon as the boy sat next to his bed. "The doctors say the surgery went well and so far, no signs of an infection."
"I know," Shoto said quietly, checking the monitor as if the numbers and graphs would tell him anything.
Enji's brows furrowed a little. He didn't know if he was disappointed at not being able to tell Shoto the good news himself or at the lack of enthusiasm from the boy. He knew that they didn't have the best relationship, but wasn't it proper manners to at least feign happiness at the prospect of a swift recovery?
"Thank you for digging me out, by the way," Enji continued, trying to get at least something out of the kid. "Don't know how long I could've held out if you hadn't come through."
"Of course," Shoto said, still oddly void of emotion. "Just doing my job."
Enji threw a scrutinizing gaze at his son, before sighing and turning towards the ceiling. If Shoto didn't want to talk, this wouldn't work. Enji was not adept enough at 'socialization' to be able to run the entire conversation by himself.
"About Saturday," Shoto said, after roughly ten minutes of silence. "Do you want me to work on the house alone?"
Right. He still met with Shoto each Saturday. "No," he said immediately.
The doctors intended to keep him in the hospital for a few days, he was told. He'd miss out on at least one Saturday. Enji could tell Shoto that it was the safety concerns that made him negate Shoto's question. He could say he didn't want any children running around on the construction site unsupervised. Truth be told, though, his denial was entirely selfish. He was rather enjoying the time with his son. There wasn't much left to do, and they hadn't found anything else to connect over. He wanted to enjoy this for as long as possible. Truthfully, he was even purposefully progressing much slower than he might have been able to.
"Okay," he was glad that, at least, Shoto didn't sound disappointed.
The boy leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and staring at the ceiling. Finally, he jumped up. "I'm getting something to drink. And I'll see if Fuyumi arrived already. She wanted to come too."
Shoto was out of the room before Enji could protest. Almost disappointed, Enji let his breath whistle out of his lungs.
"Ouch."
He glared at the young man in the bed next to him.
"That was painful to listen to." Enji still hadn't bothered to ask for his name, and he hadn't given it either. The young man chuckled a little.
Enji tried to ignore him as best as he could. Overnight, an ugly bruise had formed on the other man's face, growing so big it was showing from underneath the bandages. When the doctor had exchanged them this morning, Enji had caught a short glimpse of – what looked like – an empty eye socket.
Then there was a knock at the door, Enji expected for Shoto to return, maybe with Fuyumi – but instead, there were two people Enji didn't know. They both had the same sandy brown hair his roommate had, however, so it was easy to guess who they were.
The oldest, the father, embraced the young man tightly before sitting down next to him. The other person, who looked almost identical to Enji's neighbor, stood behind the father. Neither of them took any note of Enji apart from short greetings they made when they came in, and barely even looked at him.
Enji tried not to listen in on their conversation, but it was impossible not to hear their voices.
"They still haven't found Mom," the other boy said in a trembling voice, trying to remain calm.
"But she was with me," his roommate replied, shaking his head. "She was right next to me when Death Arms pulled me out. He must have gone back for her!" Denial, Enji knew. "He must have pulled her out as well. I saw him go back for her!"
But Enji knew from experience that it wasn't that easy. Once somebody was out of sight in such a situation, there was no telling if they would be found again. They might run off, or the villains might drag them off and kill them in a fracture of a second. If they were lucky, a hero would come along to get them somewhere else. It was sheer chaos. Enji had been lucky each time he came back into the museum to see Fuyumi still there waiting for him with all the children around her.
He didn't know what he would have done if he had lost her.
"The heroes are looking for her," the father ensured, but his voice sounded wrong. Like he was trying to calm his son without any strength left for himself. "I'm sure…"
"Ask Death Arms! He must know where she is!" The young man yelled, too loud. The father flinched visibly.
"We can't just ask Death Arms! He's still got both hands full with rescue work. They're still digging up people," the brother retorted, getting louder as well. "Corpses, Yosuke!"
"Stop it, boys!" their father demanded, but his voice didn't carry above the yelling of his sons.
"Don't say that, Mizuki! They'll find her!"
This was going too far, Enji decided. With great effort, he raised himself up in his bed and leaned to the side, pulling the curtain between them. He'd still hear them – of course – but at least he wouldn't be quite so intruding in this very private moment.
"I'm sorry," Mizuki said, walking around the bed to pull the curtains for Enji. "I didn't mean to…" But his voice trailed off when he laid eyes on Enji, for the first time really seeing him. "You…?"
The boy froze completely from where he stood. "Endeavor? What are…?" Then, he made a sudden leap, grabbing Enji's collar and pushing him back onto the mattress violently.
Enji hissed from pain, feeling the breath leave his lungs as he was utterly stunned and unable to breathe over the pain from the sudden impact. His broken arm bumped against the hard side of his bed, sending a shock even through the thick gauze.
"Mizuki!" both father and brother yelled, the father jumping up in shock.
"You!" Mizuki screamed at Enji. Spittle landed all over Enji's surprised face. He weakly tried pushing the boy off, but his limbs were immobile and everything was aching. "You were there!? Why weren't you fighting if you were there?"
"Mizuki, stop it!" The father commanded, grabbing his son around the waist and pulling him back. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Leave him!" Yosuke demanded. "He's injured, Mizuki!"
Blindly, Mizuki tried pushing his father away without turning to him. He struggled to lunge at Enji again. "He didn't do anything!" He yelled, staring at Enji, but talking to his father. "Let me go!" But his father didn't let him go, instead dragging him further back. Enji feared, however, that it would only be a matter of time until the younger overpowered his father. "I saw the fight. He wasn't there! He didn't fight!"
"He has no license!" Shoto was at the door, letting go of the coffee in his hands to rush between the raging boy and Enji. "My father lost his license! He couldn't have done…"
"Shut up!" Mizuki interrupted him loudly. "He's strong, isn't he!? License or no, he could've done something. He was the strongest! But didn't do shit! Gang Orca had no chance, but with Endeavor, they could have…" Enji saw how Shoto paled at the mention of his mentor.
At least, Mizuki seemed to have calmed down a bit. After violently ripping loose from his father, instead of attacking again, he made a sharp turn for the door.
"What's going on here?" Fuyumi asked from the door as the young man shoved her aside to flee the room.
"I have no clue," Shoto muttered, walking back to where he had spilled the coffee. "And I need a new coffee."
"I'm sorry," the father said, quickly bowing before turning to his injured son. "I'll see you later." Then, he hurriedly left after his other son.
While Shoto took a few paper towels to mop up the coffee, before throwing them with the paper cup into the bin, the other occupants of the room stayed uncomfortably quiet. Enji had recovered by now, feeling only lingering pain from the sudden attack. Something else was on his mind. Something Mizuki had said.
"Shoto, wait," he called out, when the boy was about to leave to get himself a new coffee.
As Shoto turned to him, Enji could see it in his eyes. Shoto knew exactly what he was about to ask, and he dreaded that question, but Enji had to ask anyway.
"What happened?" When Shoto didn't reply immediately, he added: "What happened to Gang Orca?" From the way the mood in the room shifted, he realized he wasn't the only one who was curious.
"There were three Noumu," Shoto started with a voice carefully void of emotion. "No other members of the League. Just the Noumu. Edgeshot's and Gang Orca's team were the first at the scene. They teamed up against the first Noumu, while the rest of us tried to evacuate the area." His voice stayed calm, as if he was totally numb to his own retelling of the events. "When the second Noumu came, Gang Orca had to fight it alone. Then the heroes from your Agency arrived… and the third Noumu… But…" His voice trembled a little. It was the first clear sign of the underlying devastation, Shoto felt. "He said, I should focus on rescue, so I couldn't help him. Gang Orca and Edgeshot held the line alone until the reinforcements arrived from UA, but by then…" Shoto hung his head as he whispered the last few words. "He's comatose. Recovery Girl was already with him… But he hasn't woken up yet. They don't know what's wrong."
Enji stared at him with wide, shocked eyes. Gang Orca, of all people… He must have suffered brain damage, if even Recovery Girl's healing couldn't raise him. It was too soon, Enji told himself, too soon to get to any premature conclusions. Tomorrow, he might already wake up. Or next week.
Shoto looked lost, the way he stood in the middle of the room. Then, Fuyumi took him in her arms.
"What about Edgeshot?" Enji heard Yosuke ask quietly. Enji was secretly glad the boy had brought it up. He needed to know.
"He'll recover," Shoto said, before Fuyumi led him out of the room to… get a new coffee or go home or just to calm down. Enji didn't know.
Enji stared after them. He only vaguely registered how Yosuke hid under the covers, trying to sob quietly.
Gang Orca… comatose. Those had just been three Noumu. Not even a single member of the League had been with them.
How were they so vulnerable? How could Hero Society protect a nation against such horror?
Mizuki had been right. He should have done more. Of course, he had no license, not allowed to do more and legally obligated to watch… He shouldn't have let it come to that. He shouldn't have wallowed in self-pity like that.
This is my fault!
"I apologize," he said clearly into the room.
For just a moment, Yosuke's sobbing seemed to halt, before continuing as if he hadn't heard anything. But it didn't matter if he was heard. The only person who needed to listen was Enji himself. The only person who needed to know.
He knew what he had to do. There was a clear path ahead of him. He didn't know how, yet. But that shouldn't stop him.
After all, he was Endeavor! A hero of Japan. When he had become the number one, he had told himself that he wouldn't be the hero under whose watch Japan would crumble. And yet, he never did anything to protect it. Surely, he had lost his ranking now, but that didn't matter. He was still a hero. If not the number one, then just another hero.
What's the difference?
His responsibility remained the same. As a hero of Japan, it was his duty to protect the present for the new generations. For the fledgling heroes of Shoto's generation, for Yosuke and his angry twin brother, for Natsuo and his fellow classmates, for Fuyumi's third graders, for Fumihiko, and even Fumihiko's bullies. Even heroes like Hawks and Mt. Lady, who were already powerful but still young and not quite ready to take the reins.
He'd abandoned them to wallow in self-pity, to hide away in his house, to run from Touya and to indulge in the idea of a happy family that he had ruined a long time ago.
He finally saw clear again – And he knew what he needed. It was an easy three-step program:
License. Quirk. Focus.
Not necessarily in that order.
So yeah! If it wasn't obvious, we're finally starting the reconstruction of Endeavor!
Mizuki's and Yosuke's reaction is a bit of a teaser on the public's negative reaction. There wil be a few people wondering why 'Endeavor didn't do more', but it won't all be negative... don't worry.
