Hitoshi had been feeling uneasy all day - it started when All Might was pulled out of their heroics exercise, but it persisted. He wasn't sure why today was so bad, and he knew that Nezu wouldn't give him any answers, even if he managed to brainwash the rat, but the feeling only increased as the day went on.
Everyone was obviously feeling antsy, but Hitoshi's stomach plummeted when a police officer appeared in their classroom doorway around two hours later. He recognized this one from Izuku's police station.
"I'm here to collect Todoroki Shoto," the officer said grimly, a stark contrast to her usual playful disposition.
"Is everything okay, officer?" Ectoplasm asked.
"There's a family emergency, that's all I'm authorized to say," she said seriously.
"Has Endeavor been in a really bad fight or something?" Kaminari whispered.
"Todoroki was emancipated," Hagakure gently reminded him.
"Oh, right."
While the class speculated, Hitoshi couldn't help but listen to Ojiro when he leaned over to Todoroki as he was packing his things.
"I don't know what's going on, but could you update us on what's going on? As long as you're comfortable with it, I mean," the blond said, forehead creasing in concern.
"And by 'us' he means the other honorary Midoriyas," Hitoshi added, feeling more awake than he had in weeks.
Todoroki nodded once before disappearing with the police officer. It felt like an eternity until he heard the nearly indiscernible buzz of Ojiro's phone.
Even though he was generally a rule follower, he slipped his phone out of his pocket. Sitting where he was, Hitoshi had a fairly decent view of his face, and his stomach tied in knots when he visibly paled. He didn't take a single note the rest of the lesson, merely staring at his desk, his tail flicking back and forth in agitation.
Lunch was immediately after that class, so while everyone else fought their way to the cafeteria, the concerned parties crowded Ojiro's desk.
"What did Todoroki say?" Shinsou demanded.
"While he was undercover today, MIdoriya was shot," Ojiro said, his voice strangely empty, looking at his phone as if he were willing the message to be different. "He's currently in surgery and they don't know whether or not he's going to survive."
A shiver ran down Hitoshi's spine at the words, and he could feel his carefully constructed mask fracturing. "Are they sure it was Midoriya that got shot? He's meticulous, he wouldn't do anything that might make him miss the dance recital."
"Detective Tsukauchi went in the ambulance with Midoriya," Ojiro said.
A wild sound broke free of Uraraka, and Hitoshi couldn't stop himself from stepping away and cursing loudly and colorfully. As the words seemed to erupt out of him, not even Iida tried to censure him - the other boy looked like he felt similarly. Disbelief was his instinctive reaction, but as much as he tried to will it out of being, Hitoshi couldn't deny the sinking dread.
Several Days Later
"Are you sure you don't want to go see Izuku?" Mama Inko asked again.
She wasn't crying at this point, but Eri could tell that she wanted to. Lately Mama Inko was crying way more than normal, but Eri wasn't much better. She had cried a lot every time Dadku had left for any undercover mission. She knew he had to go help people the way he had helped her, but she always remembered how badly he had gotten hurt then, and it really scared her.
Now was even scarier than before Eri had been rescued. The first two days she wasn't even allowed to see him - no one was. They tried to keep her from hearing what was going on, but she knew that his heart stopped beating more than once during the first two days. When he was finally stable enough they let two people go in to see him at a time. Shoto let her go in first with Mama Inko. She knew that Dadku wasn't going to be awake, but she wasn't prepared for what she saw.
Eri had never fully gotten over her fear of hospital environments, but nothing could have prepared her to see Dadku like that. There were monitors beeping that let them know that he was still alive, but what she saw scared Eri to no end.
She thought he would just look like he was sleeping, but death would have been more peaceful. Dadku was paler than she'd ever seen him, and he looked too skinny. Wires and tubes were everywhere, making him look like he had a scary quirk. Eri couldn't bring herself to look at his tummy, because she was too scared of what she might see.
Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to Mama Inko. "No, I want to stay home since Shoto is going to be here."
Mama Inko tried to smile before pressing a kiss to Eri's forehead. "Be good for him."
"I will."
The door closed behind Inko and she could hear Shoto flipping through a textbook. This would probably be her only chance.
"I'm going to play in my room," she called, moving forward when she heard Shoto's faint sound of affirmation.
In her room she made a beeline to her window - or more specifically, the plants lining the windowsill. She'd started collecting plants to take care of after the first one Dadku had given her when he was undercover. They were good to practice her quirk on, but they were also just funt o have and take care of.
She knew plants and humans were really different, but it was Eri's only option. One of her plants had just started getting a new leaf two days before Dadku got shot. If she could rewind it until that one leaf was gone, no more, no less, then maybe she could rewind Dadku like he never got shot in the first place.
Ignoring the way that her hands were shaking, Eri let the feeling of her quirk take over. Her body tingled while the light that still scared her a little bit washed over her surroundings, and she carefully tapped one of the leaves with a fingertip.
Slowly the new leaf curled in on itself, tucking neatly into the bud it had started as. Eri's chest started thrumming with hope as she clamped down on her quirk, willing it to stop as soon as the leaf was gone with no evidence it had ever existed.
Closing her eyes, she tried to remember everything Dadku had taught her about shutting her quirk off. She pictured pulling the light away from the plant and back into herself. Eri felt her face scrunch up in concentration as she tried to keep a steady pressure. She was almost there when the last of her quirk exploded out of her.
The tingle faded, and Eri hesitantly opened her eyes. In front of her sat a pot filled with nothing but dirt. There was a chance that a seed in the dirt, but there was also a good chance that she'd just erased it from existence.
Her hands were still shaking when she set the flower pot onto the windowsill, hot tears coursing down her cheeks. She couldn't keep in her tears, couldn't bring herself to cry silently like she'd had to with the Shie Hassaikai. Eri let herself cry, and Shoto heard. It was only a matter of seconds before he burst into her room, searching around like there was some sort of threat. "Are you okay, Eri?"
"I wanted to help Dadku," she sobbed, careless that he would figure out that she used her quirk without permission. "I wanted to use my quirk for something good, but I would only hurt him."
The girl didn't see the sheer panic in her adopted brother's eyes, but he did attempt to console the child with stiff pats on the back as she cried into his chest.
"There are other ways we can help Izuku," he said hesitantly. Shoto had slowly developed a relationship with Eri, but this was the sort of talk that always involved Izuku or Inko. In fact, Shoto could have used a pep talk himself, at the moment.
"How?" Eri asked, sniffling.
Wracking his brain, Shoto said, "We can be nice, and… thankful? Yeah, just like Mama Inko is always saying, we need to tell people thank you."
Shoto worried that the child would only begin crying again, or call him out as the fake adult that he was, but Eri thought deeply and nodded. "I never said thank you to the officer that gave up his blood. Dadku would want us to say thanks."
"Exactly," Shoto said, nodding as if she had come to the conclusion he'd intended all along. "We could go right now and say thank you."
"Wait, give me a little time," she said, pushing the hero student out of her room.
"You're not allowed to use your quirk alone," he warned.
"I won't, I promise. I need to make something."
Shrugging, Shoto returned to his homework. Fifteen minutes and several math problems later, Eri emerged with a mess of ribbon and glitter attached to a safety pin. "Now I'm ready."
Part of Shoto wanted to ask about the creation, but he ultimately decided that he would find out what that was about eventually. "Okay, let's head to the hospital."
The trip to the hospital was a largely silent one, but that was usually the case when Shoto and Eri were alone together. It was a comfortable silence, and occasionally a devious silence. When they arrived at the hospital he simply trailed behind the girl as she skipped through the crowd of police officers to find her target.
"Officer Mori?" she said, tugging on the back of his shirt.
He looked slightly annoyed as he turned around, but as is the natural response, it completely subsided when he saw Eri. "Yes?"
"Thank you for giving up your blood for Dadku. That was really scary and brave, and brave people should get a medal," she said, holding up the pin.
The officer in question, who Shoto had always found to be a rather disagreeable man, looked stunned. "That's for me?"
"I mean, I know it's not a real medal," Eri said, wilting a little. "If you don't want it-"
"Nope, it's mine forever, kid," Mori said, snatching it from her. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he continued, "Don't tell anyone, but I would be sad if your brother wasn't there to annoy me. But he'll be okay, he's got some of my blood in him now."
"So you think he'll wake up?" she asked in a tremulous voice. "Even if I don't use my quirk?"
"My blood is strong, it just takes time," he said, waving her concerns away. "Don't waste your quirk, it's already taken care of."
Mori Akito had always hated hospitals. He'd never had any traumatic experience with them, he just felt stifled. He hated the sterile smell and the fluorescent lights and the general ambience of despair. But since joining the police force, he hated visiting his coworkers most of all.
It wasn't a frequent occurrence. Saito and Sasaki had forced him to go visit Kimura when she'd had her baby a few years ago. While he was going through the Academy one of the rookies accidentally shot themselves and their classmates goaded him into going. He'd been forced to visit Midoriya every time every time he'd landed in the hospital, because even douchebags are expected to show up. He was comfortable in the douchebag category, Mori didn't want to move into full-blown asshole.
But this was different. He'd never felt this frantic despair and been so helpless before. It was strange, most of the time he couldn't stand Midoriya and the way everyone doted on him. However, the second he'd heard what happened, he was ready to drop anything - he'd even given the brat some of his blood!
As if the universe was attempting to punish him for thinking ill of the dying boy - because of course the universe adored him too - Saito appeared out of nowhere and looped her arm through his, violently pulling him away from the vending machine he'd been staring at. The puncture where the EMT had stabbed him five times began throbbing with a vengeance, and Mori ripped his arm from hers. "Don't touch me."
"You're a better man than we took you for, Mori. Not necessarily a good man, but better than we thought," she said, though it lacked the punch her quips usually held. Attempting to rally, she continued, "Although that blood was the best part of you, so maybe you're just as terrible as we thought."
"Still jealous that Eri made me a medal and not you?"
"Settle down, both of you," Nakamura interrupted, easily parting the two of them. "Saito, stop antagonizing him or come up with new jokes. You've been using the same lines for the past three days."
"So are you two here just to cause me more pain, or…" Mori interrupted.
"You've been standing in front of the vending machine for an hour," Nakamura said. "We figured you needed some direction."
Glancing at his watch, Mori cursed, realizing it was true. "I couldn't decide what to get."
"His vitals are stable, and if they stay that way they're going to let people other than his family see him," Nakamura said as an obvious attempt to calm him.
"And it's probably not going to be until tomorrow at least. They tried to be optimistic like that the first two days and then he flatlined twice," Mori spat. "It's been three days of wallowing around the hospital in despair."
"Aw, you do care," Saito cooed.
"The sheer number of people is ridiculous," he said sourly. "We've got half of Japan's police force and pro heroes in the waiting room, not to mention all of his other little friends popping out of the woodwork."
"And you're worried."
"I just don't need my day ruined by everyone crying," Mori huffed, turning back to the waiting area.
"Which you're worried about. Don't worry, I won't -" Saito cut off, her eyes narrowing. "I can't believe he actually showed up again."
"Who?" Mori asked, beginning to scan the room before his eyes found a massive yellow eyesore. All Might was edging towards the crowd of people that were constantly gathered in the hospital waiting room.
A weary nurse stood at the head of a line that wove throughout the entirety of the room, glaring at whoever was in line. "And how are you related to Midoriya?"
"We're cousins. Very close cousins," Sasaki said, wings fluttering a bit as she did her best to look angelic.
Unimpressed, the nurse said, "Last time you said you were his step-sister, and the time before that you said-"
"Oh you, can't you remember your own family?" Detective Kimura cut in with a nervous laugh. At the behest of Saito and Sasaki, Watanabe had been forced to construct some stupid family tree so that the entire station could claim to be related to the Midoriyas and go visit him - especially when Inko had to be at work.
Since he'd stabilized enough for visitors, Midoriya hadn't been alone once during visiting hours. Mori had visited a time or two, but both times he'd gotten yelled at for giving Midoriya a mustache with permanent marker. If Saito had done it everyone would have thought it was funny, but no. WHen he did it everyone got pissed at him and regularly frisked him for writing utensils.
But seeing the Symbol of Peace moving towards that line set Mori off. With all the authority that being Midoriya's fake second cousin three times removed gave him, Akito marched over to the man and demanded, "Can I help you?"
Startling, the man looked down at Mori. "Yes, I heard that the boy can have visitors now."
"First of all, he's Detective Midoriya to you, you piece of-"
Nakamura slapped a hand over Saito's mouth, although he was glaring just as venomously at All Might as the others. Nakamura opened his mouth to say something but Mori beat him to it.
"Visitors are family only."
Glancing at the eclectic group of people in line, the hero's eyebrows furrowed. "Surely there are some exceptions-"
With a yelp Nakamura withdrew his hand - the fool had forgotten than Saito was a biter. Released, the feral woman got right into the number one hero's face. "There aren't exceptions for you, you dream-crushing, spandex-wearing-"
Hauling the woman back by the collar of her shirt, Mori said, "Aren't we supposed to have some semblance of dignity? And you," he said, levelling his gaze at All Might, "we belong here. You don't. Family. Only."
Days passed and Midoriya still hadn't woken up. Ochako and a number of other students made sure to visit him every day after school. He'd been stable enough that he was allowed a handful of visitors at a time, and they didn't have to claim to be related to him. (It made life immensely easier for the poor nurses.)
She didn't make it into his room every day, but she'd gone to the hospital every day since they'd gotten the news. There were updates daily, but it all boiled down to the same answers: it was impossible to know when or if he would wake up.
That Saturday, Ochako was the only one able to go at the time. Most of the boys had promised to go to Eri's dance recital as Midoriya's proxies. She happily would have gone as well, but she had only really met the girl a handful of times. On top of that, yesterday she had been confronted by a tearful Midoriya Inko.
"Will you stay with him tomorrow?" she had begged, clasping one of Ochako's hands in both of hers. "He hasn't been alone during visiting hours, and I hate the thought of him waking up without a friendly face around."
"Of course I'll stay with him, Mrs. Midoriya," she had said. What else could she have said to the woman? So here Ochako stood, waiting for the nurse to give her the okay to go into his room.
Glancing at her clipboard, the nurse said, "This must be some important dance recital. I didn't think anything short of a miracle could get that group of nuisances out of our lobby."
"Oh, they'll be back tomorrow," Ochako assured her.
"Go on in," the nurse said, mood slightly soured. "It'll probably be the most peace the boy's had in a while."
Thanking the nurse, Ochako slipped into the eerily silent room. She was used to being one of many visitors clamouring to see Midoriya and causing general chaos. But now the only sounds were the various monitors hooked up to him and the almost indiscernible sound of his breathing.
They'd removed a number of the tubes and wires since she'd seen him last. Some of the color had come back to his face, and he was starting to look less… dead. She had heard that a number of healing specialists had seen him, Recovery Girl included. They had healed him as much as they safely could, but it wouldn't take much for the wound to reopen.
Once the nurse had left, Ochako pulled a glove from her pocket and onto her hand. Settling into the chair that Mrs. Midoriya usually occupied, after a moment of hesitation she reached out to his hand, slipping hers inside.
She could feel the warmth of his hand through the glove, but it was nothing compared to the heat crawling up her face. She tried to will the blush away, but to no avail. After a few moments of listening to the monitors, she gathered herself enough to speak.
"You know you have a lot of people waiting for you, Midoriya," she said, her voice rough with unshed tears. "It's pretty impressive, the hospital had to organize a completely new system of allowing visitors in just for you."
A small part of her had almost expected to hear him reply to her, so it hurt that much more when she was only heard the continued beeping of the monitors. The sound was so disheartening that her composure cracked and a few tears escaped.
"I understand why we waited," she said, barely more than a whisper. "But since the second I heard you got shot I've regretted it. Even if we were just friends, I want to know more about you, spend more time with you. I want to see your smile and the way your eyes light up when you talk about quirks. I want… I want you to be happy, and to go to Eri's dance recital."
At that moment Ochako could have sworn that Midoriya's hand twitched in hers. It was probably all in her head, though, it had to be. She sat attempting to wipe her tears with her free hand when she felt his hand twitch again.
Eyes widening, her heart stuttered in her chest. She stared at the unconscious boy for a moment before scrambling to find the call button on his bed.
It wasn't even a full minute before three nurses and a doctor burst into the room, each exhibiting varying levels of panic.
"What happened, did his vitals drop?"
"Is he still breathing?"
"His hand just twitched in mine," Ochako said, feeling flustered. "Twice. I think he might be waking up."
"Oh honey," one of the nurses said with a pitying look, "it's probably just a muscle spasm. That happens sometimes, it's best not to get your hopes up. While we're here, we can check-"
Once again Midoriya's hand tightened around Ochako's, and he actually mumbled something. It was completely unintelligible, but it was definitely coming from him. The nurses stared at him with wide eyes and the doctor lurched forward, checking charts and monitors.
Ochako couldn't tear her eyes away from Midoriya - she almost couldn't bring herself to even blink for fear that it would change something. She could have sworn that her heart stilled as he kept attempting to say something.The monitors picked up their pace, but that was nothing compared to the sight of Midoriya Izuku's eyelids fluttering open.
His green eyes were as clear as ever, and Ochako felt like they were staring into her very soul. He mumbled a few more times before clearing his throat and asking in a clear voice, "Have I missed Eri's recital?"
A/N: Behold, Izuku wakes up through the power of the big brother. Sorry for the huge hiatus guys, as you can tell, I am still very much alive, it's just been an insane time. Aside from the fact that it's 2020, I've had to move, help at least three other people move, be a bridesmaid in the wedding from hell, and start grad school on top of it all. The next chapter shouldn't take nearly so long, especially now that I'm settled and have a routine again. This chapter also hit me on a number of levels, because I've spent more time than I want to remember in hospitals to visit loved ones. I felt like this chapter means something, and I didn't want to cheapen that by rushing the writing process.
Most of all, I want to thank you all for the continued reading and support. Over the unplanned hiatus I still got countless kind comments, and I can't tell you all how much that means to me. I love you all, Kit loves you all, and she has informed me that a similar hiatus anytime soon is completely unacceptable, so fear not. Also, Kit's Korner will be returning next chapter, so that's something to look forward to!