Sober tears
Hello everyone! I'm so sorry I wasn't able to update last week, just too much shit piled up on me and I just couldn't. Again, thank you guys so much for the support, it means a lot! 333
It hurts! It hurts so much!
That's the first thing coming on Izuku's mind as he wakes up, and it effectively blocks any other thought. The pain in his skull is so horrible and it seeps down into the rest of his body too, there's a burning sensation in his eye sockets as he opens his eyes and meets the crude, bright white light of the lamp above, and then jerking his head to the side to escape it makes everything so much worse.
The boy flinches and lets out a weak whimper when a hand grips his chin firmly, tilting his face back up as someone clears their throat.
"I will need you to open your eyes," the voice commands, neutrally cold, and Izuku obeys, even if his stomach sinks at the sight of the stern-faced, white-robed man leaning over him and now holding a pen-size flashlight near his orbs.
The doctor examines him, then pulls back with a sigh. Even the rapid scratching of pen on paper is bothersome.
"I will ask you some questions now," the man goes on, his tone the slightest bit harsher. "We have to determine exactly what you've been taking, how it was administered, in what dosage and for how long. Do you understand?"
The teen nods automatically, even if speaking is the last thing he wants to do. He doesn't even think he can do it.
'Water' is the only word he can get out clearly, the rest is such an awful, slurred jumble that it frightens him. A plastic cup is brought to his lips and when he tries to reach for it Izuku realizes that his hands are restrained again, this time his wrists being handcuffed to the edges of the narrow, hard bed. There's a bandage on his forehead, just below his hairline, tugging at his skin uncomfortably when his head is held up so he can drink.
The water doesn't help much, if anything it amplifies the sudden chill in his body and he begins to shake.
Somewhere nearby the doctor sighs again, clicking his tongue. "Look, I will just ask some questions and you either nod or shake your head, alright?" he decides to compromise and the boy is grateful.
But even so, it takes too long, Izuku is too tired to even think, he's shivering and his empty stomach feels unsettled, the handcuffs painfully preventing him from curling up into a tight ball and probably passing out again. It's absolutely dreadful, being sober. He can't face reality. Not now. Not ever.
Another voice eventually interrupts the doctor, easing the teen's torment, and he turns his head to see the officer from earlier. He's alone this time.
"Do you think we can wrap up the interrogation now? Is he-…?" he asks.
"I'm afraid he's in no condition for that," the white-robed man explains, motioning with the questionnaire he'd been filling. "Just look at this!"
Some more words are passed between the two of them in a low voice, but Izuku is unable to focus enough to catch any of it. Shortly, the doctor returns by his side, this time with a syringe in hand. He is used to needles, but this shot really hurts, pain spreading into his arm and making him blink back tears.
"You will be given regular treatment," the other explains, now sticking an IV needle in, "But for the most part you will have to put up with the withdrawal symptoms. And when that happens, you'd do well to remember that this is your own doing."
About an hour later he is hydrated enough and at least able to stand on his own, so two guards come to take Izuku to his assigned cell. Even if he has yet to stand trial, unlike common offenders those qualified as villains get a 'special' treatment, being sent straight to prison. It's a sort of celebrity status, just like that of pro-heroes, and he seems to have earned it for fighting Endeavor and Kamui Woods. Not that it was much of a fight, but still.
It's close to curfew and down the hallway he's being lead through all cells are locked, their insides offering a dismal view – most villains are contained in a sort of thick glass and metal, coffin-like capsules, meant to make sure they're kept under strict control during the night. Izuku can't see faces inside, as the capsules are gradually being lowered in horizontal position for the night, but feels countless eyes watching and a new wave of horror washes over him. He's already shivering, barely able to walk, already taking more than he can handle.
The guards stop and unlock a cell where presently there's only one capsule – many of the cells have two – and it is already tilted horizontally, the bottom and upper glass panels slid back all the way. The inside is slightly cushioned, like a bed of sorts, and some belts are visible in the corners, like coiled black snakes. He is told to sit down in it as one of the guards undoes his handcuffs.
"…I-I can't…" the teen whispers choking, arms flying up to hug himself as soon as he's free. God, he'll die if they lock him in that thing!
"I SAID 'SIT DOWN'!" the man barks, shoving him forward roughly, such that the boy nearly falls down into the seat. "You'd better behave, you little shit, if you don't want us to bring you a cellmate. I think you know what all these bastards couldn't wait to do to you if given the chance!"
"Oi, don't say that to him!" the other guard grumbles, placing a folded blanket in Izuku's lap. "He's just a kid, for fuck's sake!"
"He's a villain!" the first points in the same tone, turning on his heels. After that they both walk out of the cell and the boy flinches as the lock is activated with a loud snap.
The cell is dark save for one, very small, red emergency light bulb above the grated door, and there's some dim light from the corridor. It's also very quiet once the guards' steps have faded in the distance, sinisterly so. This place feels like one large tomb and Izuku is the one lying in it, even if he's still alive. Even if he is-…
Alive and alone.
A shaky, strained sigh leaves his lips as the boy finally lifts his legs up and lowers himself into the capsule. Not wanting to think of something is just as bad as thinking about it. And now that his headache has subsided, there's nothing to distract him from it, from the visceral pain seeping into every cell of his body. Izuku curls up on one side, blinking and inhaling forcefully as he tries to keep the fresh wave of tears at bay. It's all a matter of perspective, Himiko would say, because she's so smart, wise even. Izuku might have ended up in this hell – the hell he never really, truly left, the hell of being alive – while she is free.
His eyes and fingertips numbly trace the outline of the upper glass and metal panel in front of him, then the inside of it, the surface cold, hard and unforgiving. Himiko was taken from him, but at least…
… she is out there, somewhere. Free. Now they'll never catch her, they'll never lock her up into one of these coffins, inside this tomb.
He must – and he will! – tell himself that, repeat it again and again to keep the madness away, even though the gunshots still resound in his skull. Then, he knew right away, knew he'd lost her even before seeing her crumpled body lying in the hallway.
But that doesn't mean anything! It was quick, it was painless, they were saying the death was instantaneous! She was lucky, she got away, she-…
"G-God…" Izuku whimpers quietly, losing the fight and tears filling his eyes yet again, spilling freely, and he slams the heel of his palm against the inside of the capsule.
The sudden pain that comes with it helps bring him back to the present moment and the teen's fingers discover a small bump on the surface, the head of a metal screw that came loose somehow. It's easy to twist too, doesn't take much work until it comes out completely and Izuku eventually holds it in front of his eyes, squinting in concentration.
The silvery screw is almost as thick as the boy's index finger and a tad longer, with a very sharp spiral-free end. This could be useful – Izuku ponders impaling his thumb on it – he could use it to-…
No.
That would be the easy way out, but he promised.
He promised Himiko.
Izuku is sure that he'd been asleep for a while now, it must be very late but still he wakes when Himiko comes back to their room, almost tiptoeing and closing the door with care, because Shigaraki has other 'tenants' too for the moment and strict rules in place to keep them from starting chaos (who would have thought). The room is so small and cramped that one can all but stumble straight onto the single bed coming through the door, but the blonde is as graceful in her movements as ever, straddling the boy's waist with purpose.
"Not sleeping yet?" she whispers with a grin Izuku can clearly see in the semi-obscurity, leaning in slightly and wiggling a small, crinkly package in front of his face.
He momentarily flinches at the sight, but maybe this is for the best. He's not afraid, he's a dead man anyway, he's been since the day Himiko found him on that bridge. And he trusts her to make it quick and painless.
"…there's no need for that." He shakes his head slowly, taking a deep breath.
Himiko scowls a little, leaning lower into his face. "Izuku, you know I like you a lot but I don't want to have your kids just yet. You do know what this is for, right? Or…no?" Her thin eyebrow arches questioningly.
"I mean you don't have to do this before you-…" The boy is unsure how he should phrase this exactly. Instead, his fingers reach under the pillow and extract Himiko's favorite knife and he offers it to her, handle first. "I'm not afraid. …and I won't try to fight it either. So just do it."
The blonde blinks, realization settling in and she sighs, pulling back a bit and taking the knife from his hand. She weighs it in her palm with practiced ease for a short moment, then throws it on the floor, away from the bed.
"Izuku," she says in a serious tone, all flirtiness gone from it. "You're a really sweet and precious boy, but you need to develop a fucking self-preservation instinct. I mean it! If there's anyone in this fucking world who deserves to live, it's you! You should live! I want you to live!"
"B-But-"
"Promise me! Promise me you'll live!"
Izuku feels the sting of tears under his eyelids as he nods slowly. "Okay. I promise."
He's an idiot, didn't understand anything. Himiko cares about him, she loves him just as much as he loves her. Actually, no, that's not true – she loves him a lot more, but for now he's yet to find out just how much.
"Good. Don't forget that." Himiko's teasing smile is back afterwards, even wider, and she holds the condom wrapper in his face again. "Now, please bite this open."
If he thinks about it hard enough, he can still feel Himiko on his body. He can still remember his own fingers and lips exploring her smooth skin, especially the graceful, cursive letters adorned with tiny green leaves under her left breast, which spell his own name. They're so beautiful it hurts.
Izuku wakes up with a start when the cell is unlocked the next morning, at first having a bit of trouble figuring out where he is. The screw is still clutched in his hand, having left a mark into his palm, and the boy hurries to put it back in its place before the guards can see it.
"Get up, we've let you sleep in long enough," one of the men grumbles coldly and the boy complies, surprised he can stand up so quickly without getting dizzy. It must be still early though, and he doesn't really feel like he's slept that much. "Time to get cleaned up and then you'll get some breakfast, if you feel up to it now. Afterwards the doctor will see you and then your parents are coming over. Come on, move it!"
…parents?
Izuku closes his eyes and takes a deep, shaky breath as he's being ushered out into the hallway. Fuck. He absolutely can't face his mom right now.
Spoilers for the next chapter - now all hell will break loose and poor All Might will be caught in the middle.