A/N: Hi friends - it's Darian here! I know Hemza and I normally upload on Saturdays - but today is a very special day. We just surpassed 1k reads here, and we're both incredibly excited. Affinity is something we've been working on for so long, and so much love and care has been poured into every word. 1 thousand people have now read it, and there are no words for how thankful we both are. So to keep it simple... thank you. Each and every person who has ever clicked on Affinity - thank you. We hope you enjoy the extra update this week, and as always, we'll see you all on Saturday for our regularly scheduled update 3
Shoto had never seen anything quite as terrifying as the sight in front of him. Emiko was half collapsed on the ground, blood seeping from a gaping wound in her ribs. She stared blankly down the alleyway, her eyes glazed over.
Her hair had fallen in messy waves around her face, drooping in a way it hadn't only moments before. He knew that wasn't a good sign, knew that her quirk had given out with the surprise and shock of the attack.
Please be okay. Please, please, please.
He wanted to run to her, but his legs wouldn't move. Fear held them in place, like concrete weights were tied to his ankles. It was excruciating, watching her. Seeing her blood spill from her sides, that torn skin on her side staring him right in the eye.
Move, damnit. This isn't how this is supposed to go.
One step forward. His heart thundered in his chest, panic festering in his gut.
She moved her mouth, but no words made their way to his ears. Blood seeped from her lips, splattering onto the front of her hero costume.
"Midoriya."
His green eyed classmate turned, wide eyed and terrified. His hands were trembling, tears pooling behind his mask of bravery.
"I need you to go get her. I'll distract Stain."
He gritted his teeth, letting the flames he normally kept hidden wash over his body. It was unnerving, seeing something that could cause so much pain pouring from his skin, but he knew that fire was the only way he could distract Stain long enough.
"Okay, now, Midoriya!"
He stretched his arm out, pouring flames down the narrow alley. He watched Izuku move from his peripheral vision, green lighting mixing with the orange glow burning into the dark night sky.
Please, bring her back. Get her to me and I'll make sure she's okay. Don't let her die.
Midoriya was back in the blink of an eye, settling the red haired girl gently onto the concrete, before flying back into battle.
Shoto turned his gaze away from the fight, glancing down at her limp frame. Blood pooled around her, too much blood. He bent down, pulling her up and into his arms. His hand rested against the back of her head, fingers tangled slightly in her matted hair. Blood coated her chest, tangled in her vibrant mane of hair and seeped through the fabric of her brand new costume, something he knew she'd be upset about later.
"Hey, hey." He whispered against her hair, "You're okay. It's okay. Everything's going to be fine. I'm gonna get you fixed up, okay?"
He could feel her shift slightly, her lips moving as if she was trying to speak. Whisper soft breaths tickled his cheek, ruffled his hair. It would've tickled, had it not been so fucking terrifying.
"This might hurt a bit, but it's going to be okay." He mumbled, tightening his grip on her ever so slightly. "I'm sorry."
Slowly, so slowly, Emiko lifted her blood soaked hand up to his cheek. The sticky warmth coated his face, her fingers brushing up against the edge of his scar. It was uncomfortable, having someone touch his face in that way. Nobody, not even his mother had ever been close enough to him to touch the burned area of skin over his left eye. He sighed, allowing her touch to calm his rapidly beating heart for only a moment, before shifting her weight. He could feel her struggling to hold her head up, tearing his heart to shreds as she fought against the pain she was feeling.
He pressed his left hand against the wound that danced along her ribs, wincing as he felt the extent of the damage. For the third time that night, he let flames dance on his hand. He moved quickly, sliding his hand up the gash that took up the majority of her right side. He stared down at it, watching as the flames burned across her skin, marring her pale complexion beyond recognition.
She was screaming, thrashing in his arms. He struggled to maintain his composure, to stop the tears from spilling from his eyes.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Emiko. Please, forgive me.
The blood stopped flowing, and Emiko lay slumped in his arms. Her blue eyes were closed, tears still damp on her cheeks. Blood soaked his hands, through the fabric of his hero costume. It was everywhere he looked, that nauseating red colour. The metallic scent lingered, mixed with the distinct scent of burnt flesh. It was overwhelming, and it left him feeling numb.
Rage flowed through him, left his hands shaking and his heart racing.
"Shoto!"
Midoriya's panicked voice caught his attention, and he tore his gaze away from the unconscious girl in front of him. He held Emiko close a moment longer, resting his forehead against her own and listening to her soft breathing. A small comfort - a few seconds of feeling her breathing in his arms. Pressed his lips against her forehead before he could talk himself out of it. He settled her on the ground, her hair fanning out behind her.
She looked like some sort of angel of death, blood surrounding her. Beautiful and terrifying. Shoto stood, wiped his hands on his pants and turned, leveling his gaze onto Stain.
"I'm going to make you regret that, scum."
—-
The fight against Stain had taken longer than he would have liked. Throughout the entire battle, he'd been unable to keep his focus off of Emiko. Iida and Midoriya had picked up his slack, pummeling the bloodthirsty villain into submission.
They'd succeeded, something none of the students had been expecting. Standing in that alley, surrounded by Pros and his fellow heroes in training, Shoto stared down at Emiko. She lay still unconscious, her brow furrowed as if she was thinking deeply.
He bent his knees, scooping her up and holding her tight against his chest. She was lighter than he expected, and she lay limp in his arms. Her wild hair caught the breeze, blowing about her face wildly. A soft smile danced over his lips as he moved an errant lock of hair off of her face.
Still so pretty.
He banished that thought before it even had time to take root. He was in no position to be thinking about just how pretty Emiko was, even with her face coated in rapidly drying blood.
"Hey, Kid. I'll take the girl." A paramedic spoke, wheeling a stretcher up. Shoto only nodded, rested Emiko's delicate frame onto the offered bed.
"Do you know what happened to her?"
Flashes of the fight burned into his mind, "Yes. Stain was able to catch her with his sword, and he cut into her quite badly."
The paramedic nodded, turning their gaze to the aforementioned injury. "And the burn?"
He tried not to wince, tried to hide the flash of anger that lanced through him. He knew it had been his only option - both of their only option, but it still irritated him to know that it'd come to such an extreme measure.
If only she had've listened -
"If I hadn't cauterized the wound, she would have bled out. I was able to stop that from happening, luckily."
The man in front of him nodded, "I see. Well done, kid. I'll get her to the hospital."
Shoto moved to turn away, to turn back towards the rest of the heroes swirling around the alley.
"Am I able to join her?"
The medic paused, gazing curiously back at him before nodding slightly.
"Thank you."
He climbed into the back of the ambulance, resting his hand against Emiko's upturned palm. He couldn't quite place why, but feeling her pulse under his finger tips calmed him slightly.
If he closed his eyes, he could still see her in that alley. He could feel that fear and panic as it coursed through his veins, watching her crumple to the ground. His heart still hammered in his chest and his breathing grew shallow as he saw her get cut down again and again.
Fuck.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, sighing deeply. Focusing on it, he knew, would drive him crazy. He tried to forget. Tried to erase the image of her bleeding and battered, laying in the dirty concrete from his mind. Tried to purge the sounds of her choking on her own blood from his memory.
It hurt to think about. The image of her in his head, it burned. His heart had raced with something akin to pride, watching her with her wild hair illuminated by his flames, standing up for a dream that they both shared. It was his fault. His fault that she lay in that ambulance with it's sirens blaring. It was his fault that she nearly bled out, that she was burned and bruised and barely breathing. If he hadn't rushed off, if he had taken a moment to think before sprinting off into a fight he had no business being a part of…
She'd be okay. She'd not be unconscious in a hospital bed, a huge wound in her side. A permanent scar. A reminder of exactly what she'd been through wouldn't have marred the pale skin of her ribs. She'd be up and about, not laying there in front of him, ghostly pale.
"I'm so sorry, Emiko."
—-
Getting her to the hospital should have relieved some of the tension in his stomach. He knew that some of Japan's most gifted doctors were working on her, were cleaning out her wound and washing her hair and bandaging her, but he missed the feeling of her pulse beating against his thumb. The only way he could guarantee that she was safe was if she was there, wrist clasped in his hands.
He now fidgeted with his fingers, picking at the loose skin around his cuticles. His knee tapped, stiff sole of his boots clicking against the floor of the hospital. He was coated in blood - a fact that turned his stomach. He'd refused to leave, though. A fact that no doubt drove the nurses crazy - so much so, they'd tucked him away in a corner to wait for Emiko and the others to wake up.
They'd taken Iida and Midoriya away, too. The gash in Iida's arm had been serious, and he knew it would leave a nasty scar. He was the only one who'd escaped that fight virtually unscathed. Physically, at least. Images of his friends fighting against evil still wound through his mind, Emiko and Iida's heaving breaths of pain burned into his mind.
That image, the sight of Emiko with blood pooling around her turned his stomach. He didn't know when it happened - when he developed so much care for the girl, but Shoto knew that it wasn't a fleeting feeling. He was filled with rage, white hot and rapid each time his mind drifted back to that image in his head. His heart hammered in his chest with each passing moment, picturing her hair wild and free blowing around her face.
He could see her laughing in her dojo at home, could picture her rolling her eyes at Sakura as she told a particularly bad joke. He'd never seen a family interact - not a real one, anyways, but he quite liked to imagine that he would someday have that. An effortless bond, someone who would roll their eyes and scoff at bad jokes and run their fingers through his hair. He longed for comfort, for arms to wrap around his shoulders when the nightmares came, for someone to brush the tears away from his eyes and whisper to him that they would always be there.
If he was honest with himself, really and genuinely honest, he quite liked the idea of that person being her. She was fiercely brave and protective, kind and stubborn and smart. She was beautiful, so beautiful it made his chest tighten each time he watched the setting sun catch on stray strands of her hair. She was passionate and determined, and the most loyal person he'd ever met. He knew that she was someone special, someone to be watched and nurtured and held close, because she was one in a million.
Meeting Emiko had been like being struck by lightning - not just once, but a million times over. She'd shown him exactly what he'd been missing all of those years, trapped in a home where nobody really saw him. She'd shown him compassion and patience and kindness and respect, and had shown him what it felt like to be cared for.
"Shoto?" An orderly stepped from the nurses station, hands clasped in front of her. "Miss Komatsu has requested you."
Shoto stood, stretched his arms over his head before following quietly behind the nurse.
I'm coming, Miko.
